Love vs Loneliness . . .
Date: Fri, 9 Aug 2002

"Spencer, Gerald" wrote:

. . . lasting regressions? Heartache by the number.

MySteveMan,
yes, a breakdown, a meltdown at seeing yet another sign of a life out of sorts, drifting. Wanted yet unwanted hopes dashed. Love hurts, so who wants it? if it means no hurt but loneliness is pain as well. Loneliness and depression go together; love and agony go together; I don't know which is worse. I want to say love and agony are worse

From: Steven Rhodes [mailto:cubstryper@yahoo.com]

Sent: Friday, August 09, 2002 8:40 AM
To: Spencer, Gerald
Subject: Re: Lasting Impressions

Good Morning My Spencer,

I remember once, meeting my "dream" match. It was shortly after I moved back to Chicago, from the turbulent Belinda years. We had several phone conversations - all lengthy - before meeting. We agreed to meet for lunch, one Summer day.

He came by to pick me up - apologizing for both the Rolls(es) being in the shop, the Caddy was his work car. He was handsome. He was dashing. He was English. Office on LSD - Real Estate and Law - (son or grandson of a Nobleman - who founded the Boy Souts of America.)

We were both seeing stars. I could feel it. I could see he felt it. We sat close to each other on the way to Lunch. All during Lunch. Talking of past relationships, work stories, family, many good topics. We were so different. Yet, we found the common thread in each topic, and laughed and had fun, all thru the course of the afternoon.

A perfect gentleman, he dropped me off, we kissed goodbye, and I got out of the car, and went back up to my apartment, alone. Probably to drink. Drown my sorrows. Drown my feelings. I never called him back. He never called me. The possibility of rejection, overwhelmed me, so I remained isolated. Remained safe.

I wanted to remember him, just the way he was. You see, he had already "become". I was barely even "born". I knew I had a WAYS to go, many, many issues to resolve. Many lessons to learn. Many people to meet. People who would bring enlightenment. Encouragement. Hope. Knowledge.

Different people would bring different gifts, over the years. Helping me to "become". Never took on a lover, in all that time, tho. There were many proposals. Many friends. A few playmates. But NO one I would be able to live with. No one I trusted that much. Except for potentially, that one Englishman. And that, based only on a few conversations, and one date.

I suspect it is the same with Junior. He has barely been "born". Many people to meet. Many lessons to learn. Life will happen. His Destiny is not here. This was only a stop for "food". A banquet, at that! I am all the wiser for having met him. All the stronger. I hope you can say the same.

Hostage Crises on Huron
Date: Wed, 7 Aug 2002 17:26:20 -0700 (PDT

8776010995@skytel.com wrote:

i am at starbucks now for 2.5 hours waiting for junior . he [Junior]said he will come . i call each hour , he is home , now he says no. i need to get him out and to meet me. it is a little thing i need i ask of his love. i will not go home without it . i cannot. call my cell please .SOS Love Spencer & -gerry spencer

-----------------

Date: Wed, 7 Aug 2002 17:26:20 -0700 (PDT)
From: Steven Rhodes
Subject: Re: R U OK?
To: 8776010995@skytel.com

Is everything OKAY? What did I have for dessert? What did I tell the old lady at lunch? - MSM

-------------------

From: 8776010995@skytel.com
Date: Wed, 07 Aug 2002 19:48:27 CDT
To: cubstryper@yahoo.com

- ok. cookies&cream ice cream certainly no problem. -gerry

---------------

From: geraldsp [mailto:gspencer@idolo.com]
Sent: Thursday, August 08, 2002 4:35 PM
To: 'cubstryper@yahoo.com'
Subject: Occasions . . .


. . . Of less comfort.

Phone line: use 312-944-2129 for phone calls, I took the phones off of
312-944-2123.

After the "Bashing"To: "Steven Rhodes"
Subject: critical mass then . . . Date: Fri, 2 Aug 2002 18:37:59 -0500

. . . meltdown. Mine, yours, his?

MySteveMan:

Thank you for being there for me. It meant my whole world to me. You realize that don't you? You mentioned Edward, NATO officer. Big Burly Buff, "was it the same?" In a way, yes, well actually, yes; not in a way. I did not love him. He also did not live with me. 2 Major differences - get that? Major, it is what Edward left as. Met him as a captain he got promoted to major before he really bashed me and never returned.

I truly wish I could talk with Juan Carlos again. We are both in such different places any more. Fernando says I could always come there and live at the estate if I ever need to hide out. I think he knew that even if Juan Carlos did not like what I wrote in the book he would be there for me to help save me again.

The next large neighboring estate belongs to his family. I never imagined I'd consider that in light of Junior. Okay, I knew the trip [to Yosemite with us] would have to be "off". I knew that a while back. Definitely since this weeks events. The e-tickets are still yours [Spencer put on his credit card] and Richards [the "Mayor"] (if he adjusted his - I hope so because by now it may be too late).


Junior now has to study for his written license test, pass that, get behind the wheel of someone's car and get through the behind the wheel test. You did the insurance thing, I do not know how long that is good, his tickets are paid. He is clear to try for the driver's license. He opted for leaving the gold at the pawn and opted for not paying his mother the phone bill. He believes his getting the license back on his own was more important. Not a surprise to me, other than a larger stress on my screwed up finances than I expected this week.

He plans to work tomorrow, and Monday. Early this afternoon he got a call from Bradtke, I was there. I heard the conversation. I pray it is true. I do not wish you to worry about being alone here or at your place with Junior. I will not put you in that position. He may however ask you to go with him for his behind the wheel test whenever that is. He thought about knowing someone else with a car and believed he could get them to do it.

You may be in the clear for that. As long as you are not around or near him when he is drinking - or worse, taking drugs and drinking. He says no more alcohol, he also said no more fights and no more drugs. I am bringing no alcohol here or keeping any here. Everything is gone. I had no idea, just none whatsoever. Sigh.

You know how deep my love goes for people, you, him, many others. I cannot ask Nathan to the mixer tomorrow. I do not wish to jeopardize his safety, I love him more than that.

It is the weekend, yes, I almost rather it were still the workweek. All the things you wrote in the list are true. Keep busy, get him working, keep him going towards real goals, get the appointment and the help. God help all of us. > >Love >:Spencer >R6

The "Bashing" by JuniorFrom: "gspencer"
To: "Steven Rhodes"
Subject: Yes, all good ideas . . .
Date: Thu, 1 Aug 2002 19:59:47 -0500

Thank you again for the help. I may have walked somewhere yesterday that I would not really wish to if you had not called and had not shown up to help me, to save me. Talk soon
>Muchos todos
>:Spencer
>R6

From: "gspencer" >
To: "Steven Rhodes"
Subject: Heavy sweats . . .
Date: Tue, 30 Jul 2002 07:00:39 -0500


. . . from a dream workout.

. . . I am sorry about cancelling our part of the trip. If it delays his departure I need to do that. I could not go without him, he will not go. He is not settled and would rather have the help in getting his license back I understand that, you see how he focuses; he does have an attention span.
The jumping around in his head is returning to unfinished business, he does not like unfinished business. Who does? I will have to tell you of the last night being awake - the night and the dawn that coincide with your red morning/sailor's warning. Something happened then.
Some day you will know. The thing that led to his telling me he would leave for Indiana.

From: "gspencer"
To: "Steven Rhodes"
Subject: Starbucks, on my mind . . .
Date: Sun, 28 Jul 2002 16:54:16 -0500

RE: PORTENTS OF TERROR:

There are also things I cannot speak, not because anyone says don't speak of this but because how I would act when I try to voice them. You've seen me recount unpleasant things from my childhood and early years, you can see how difficult that can be. These things, these things I think harder and maybe someday they will all come out. I am writing in the book, Junior's book, I have not written since the last I spoke with you but today as I sit in the living room watching him sleep on the sofa I began to write again. Many anecdotes, what I write will not reflect the terror in my heart and in my soul. The corialis, which way does it turn? Can we set the spin in the other direction? . . .

------------
From: 8776010995@skytel.com
Date: Sun, 28 Jul 2002 23:37:41 CDT
To: cubstryper@yahoo.com

HI don't know if i will survivor . -gerry spencer

----------

From: "gspencer"
To: "Steven Rhodes"
Subject: He says . . .
Date: Mon, 29 Jul 2002 06:20:55 -0500


. . . if I am not here by the time you get home from work on Monday. I'm gone. Don't expect to see me again. MySteveMan! I am awake all night. Cancel my trip with you. Cancel my life, it won't be the same. I will call you. Love :Spencer
---------------

From: Steven Rhodes
To: gspencer
Sent: Saturday, July 27, 2002 5:12 PM
Subject: Re: Oh . . . I almost forgot . . .

RE: RED SKY VISION

. . . to tell you this one . . . As I was on my way to work this am, just as I was rounding the curve into Evanston, along the lakefront, there was a rose colored sky, so beautiful, it was like none other I'd ever seen. It was glowing all the way out into the western sky! I looked up, over the water, and to my amazement, you'll never believe what I saw!

It was either you or me (with our long hair, just like the Twins,) of all things - KISSING a BEAR! It was not a cloud image that had to be interpreted. It was CLEAR as a BELL! Eros and Orso!

Oh, and, as I was getting off the elevator at work, I heard one of the guys say "Red Sky morning - sailor's warning!" Everyone must have seen something of their own choosing, they always do. I just know what I saw. And I count it as one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. - Steve

Date: Sat, 27 Jul 2002 14:42:23 -0700 (PDT)
From: Steven Rhodes
Subject: Re: A Poem for a Moment - "THAT SUMMER"
To: gspencer


Hello Spencer,

I have been touched today. I wasn't expecting it. It just came. So I thought I'd put it to good use. Here it is in it's first email debut. I will write it out in pen and ink for him, as well. Would you please give it to him, for me. . . A poem I wish to dedicate to My Junior. Our Junior. . .

"That Summer Day"

- by Steven Rhodes

So bright the sky, that summer day,

the city toiled, I looked away,

I sketched on napkins, sunned my face,

Sipped my coffee, joined the race.

A friend arrived, back from a trip,

We opened presents, sip by sip,

He spoke of Shakespeare, then the Queen,

nibbling sandwiches, in between.

I felt a rustling in the air,

I turned around, and you were there.


Stories, aires and lands afar,

Of nights and tales of Zanzibar,

Another Knight, so brave, so true,

a dream, a sip, a glance at you!

I turned around, so not to stare,

As heaven landed on that chair.

Feigning interest, thoughs flew high,

I lost my mind, and caught your eye,


The sun beat down, another sip,

My friend still talking of his trip;

Of what he spoke, I know but this,

My eyes on you, I blew you a kiss,

I forged a plan, to pass your way,

While you held court, that Summer Day,

My legs brushed nimbly past your chair,

Our eyes then locked, a bridge on air,

And at that hour, as time stood still,

Eros landed on our hill!

We travelled distances, unknown,

The trips we'd made, the flights we'd flown,

All came rushing back, to chance,

In that one brief, fleeting glance.

It took an hour to pass your chair,

And as I did, I walked on air.

From that moment on I knew,

there'd never be another you,

Oe'r all the world I long to stay,

To dream, to sip, that Summer Day.

July 27, 2002 Dream - Being sucked down a drain . . .
----------
Much pain and anguish in my thoughts - hard to go back to sleep.

- #1 - a boy is on the bed. Trying to act brave. Says he's been stepped on by an elephant. (baby elephant.) He spits up blood several times.

- I told him he has been injured - I can feel the spot he was stepped on. He will die.

---------
- #2 - A group of us is in a house. We just got there.

- Two of my friends were at the kitchen sink and were sucked down the drain by something "down there".

- Whatever it was, it was trying to suck everyone else down the drain, who stood near.
----------
Note #1: I looked up the definition of "Corialis" - the effect of the Earth's gravitational force from either pole, causing the counter-clockwise vs. clockwise - circular motion of water down the sewer or drainpipe. (See last dream blog - 6/8/02 - Re: "Amelia Corrialis".

Note #2: I was studying for MCSE lisence - and "Corialis" happened to be, (coincidentally), the publisher of the series I chose, on the advice of a coworker who got his lisence from that series of study materials.

Date: Sat, 27 Jul 2002 04:33:56 -0700 (PDT)
From: Steven Rhodes
Subject: Re: Not able to decipher . . .
To: gspencer

DREAMS: "ELEPHANTS and DRAINS . . ."


This morning's dreams: (2)

1.) A boy was on the bed. He was in much pain, but trying to be strong. He looked like you, (but could have been Junior, or even my son Jaimie, not sure.) I loved him dearly, tho. He had been stepped on by a baby elephant. He was not smiling anymore. Barely able to speak. Soon, he started spitting up blood. He was hurt real bad. I wanted to put my arms around him, to hug him, but I was afraid I'd hurt him more. I felt his injury. Put my hands on his side. He was dying, no matter if we got him to the hospital or not, then. . . . My friends came, and we went somewhere . . .

2.) . . . We were all in a house, somewhere, like off in a vacation rental. Two of the friends were doing dishes over the sink, and suddenly they were sucked down the drain by something very powerful "down there." My other friend and I knew that if we stood over the drains, anything connected to the drains, we would also be sucked in. (Remember the Corialis effect?) My other friend and I avoided the drains. We watched every step we made, as we moved around the house, and we survived. Just like we survived the terrorist attack, and the systematic chemical poisoning, in those other dreams, I spoke of.

Date: Fri, 19 Jul 2002 05:59:37 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mac Stryper
Subject: Eros - my love
To: gerry spencer

RE: THAT LAST THURSDAY

Good Morning,

Been missin' you, in the worst way. Had to use a few shoulders to dry these tears, yesterday. Junior returned my keys. Was not expecting it. He doesn't call me. He just showed up at the door, as I was expecting a guest. (Jerome - the pianist.) I did not know Junior was coming over. He came to get the rest of his things. I have been pretty much in shock, since.

Junior said he likes you better, on the phone, the day before. He even saw Laura, again, instead of coming over that night. That drove a nail thru my heart. My two loves, and a third, together, without me. It is hard to describe from my end, this feeling. Not directed against you, against him, just the hurt of it all.

Ahh - to have found love, and it not to have found me. A hurt, that finds its way into the recesses of your soul . . .

. . .
Will be seeing sister and nieces on Tues. am. Then, the mayor wants to take me to see Gallileo Gallileo, the new Phillip Glass musical. I told him that I hadn't been able to get to see any of you, so we are going alone. We are also up in the air over accomodations for Yosemite. I really need to sit down with everyone and decide what to do about lodging. Everything is booked solid for August. . . .

Date: Tue, 16 Jul 2002 18:52:55 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mac Stryper
Subject: Re: TO BE READ OUT LOUD: The Children of Eden, Part 1: Becoming Junior.
To: gspencer

Has anyone seen Junior? I am getting raked over the coals at least 3 times a day from the Mayor - who is LIVID! Someone please call me. - Steve

--- gspencer wrote:

An excerpt from the first chapter, please read it the first time out loud to Junior:
The Children of Eden, Part 1: Becoming Junior. By
Gerald Spencer, with
Joseph Paul Green Jr. and with Steven Rhodes. Book
design and illustrations
by Steven Rhodes. Songs, poetry and life by Joseph
Paul Green Jr.
copyright 2002, all rights reserved.

". . . Ere Dawn as the children of Eden sleep in their bowers, safe in the embrace of their living home, the Creator gives them dreams. Dreams of the times long before them. Dreams also of the times long to come.
There were no nights during which there was no sleep. There were no nights during which there were no dreams. These are things of later making, things found along the shore of the sea of consciousness when it broke forth from the land with a great painful cry. A soul searing pain breaks the heart of Eden as two young lovers eat of the forbidden fruit.
Far outside the guarded gates a rent is made in Eden's bosom; from it pour the waters of forgetfulness, neglect, pain, jealousy, envy and more; none of them things found within the gate."

MySteveMan and Junior:
I cannot tell you how much I love you; that would require words you have not heard, sounds rare in the universe causing emotions unfathomable. Joseph Paul, Junior, your book is begun; it is not written by me, it is written by three. It will be put to paper on nights such as this; in my solitude, with love guarding my door against loneliness and despair. It will be put to paper on days of light and of happiness, with love that I will store in my soul; the love I shall need to guard my door against loneliness and despair.

I hope you accept my meager words with love. :Spencer R6

Date: Sun, 14 Jul 2002 15:13:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mac Stryper
Subject: Re: Corialis . . . some interesting info . . .
To: gspencer

RE: ". . . Planet PL6K2 (christened Corialis)"



That dream about Amelia Corialis keeps popping up in my mind, so I did a search and found some interesting info . . .

Planet PL6K2 (christened Corialis)--My first step in this neverending journey

[ Follow Ups ] [ Post Followup ] [ The Channel of Wormholes ] [ FAQ ]

Posted by Jowell on March 02, 19100 at 21:33:02:

I have seemed to come across a new planet. My first step into the unknown in search of information on snapshot SS4C2 has shed light on Corialis, a planet which has been hidden in the depths of nothingness for ages. Its beauty is fathoms deep. The deep magnolian color of it seems to radiate pure energy into my body as I wander through its endless void. Its core is a deep sapphire ocean of myst, swirling and shimmering around my body, engulfing me forever in its softness. I christen it Corialis, a word I have coined. It means "fathomess beauty"
Visit often for updates on my journey.

It is also the counter-clockwise effect on water and drains in the Northern Hemisphere. There is a toy, based on it's effect. It is also a planet in the Star Trek series. It is in a system called Corialis.

She was the soldier, dispatched via a headset radio to fight the terrorists in my dream. "This is Amelia Corialis, signing off. . ."Steve MSM !:@/

Date: Sun, 14 Jul 2002 12:52:29 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mac Stryper
Subject: Re: Chlor-ene - Chemical Invasion???
To: gspencer

RE: "Pigeons erupt over Dodie's memorial"

Ate alone with Dodie. [at the memorial marker I erected outside Panera]
- A majestic explosion of white doves, (pigeons,) erupted over Dodies memorial site. I counted 16 in all. They sailed high and proud against a deep blue sky. Flew in concentric patterns for about 5 minutes. 16 pigeons - 32 wings. (2 cubed?) Then disappeared. What a wonderful site. It was almost surreal. The dove is the symbol for Eros, btw. Cupid. A message from Dodie, to relay to her bois! Awww - Some!

Thank you for your messages and updates. You are one of God's most awesome, creatures, you know! The other one is on his knees in the bathroom, this time, saying "I'm only 16, what do you expect?" Awwww-Some! Love you guys! So very much!

Date: Sun, 14 Jul 2002 09:55:11 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mac Stryper
Subject: Re: Smoke Signals across the Sea
To: gspencer

RE: TOBY KEITH'S "My List"

My tears are sort of spilling over a little. Trying to save them for my time with Dodie. Get them all out of the way, all at once. Listening to Toby Keith's "My Li

st" - talks about takin' time out of the busy day to do those important things, that are not usually on our list of things to do, today . . .

(Chorus). . . .

"Like: Go for a walk,

Say a little prayer,

Take a deep breath of mountain air,

Put on my glove and play some catch,

It's time that I make time for that.

Wade the shore and cast a line, Pick up a long lost friend of mine,

Sit on the porch and give my girls a kiss,

Start livin', that's the next thing on my list.

Wouldn't change the course of fate, but

cuttin' the grass just had to wait,

'Cause I've got more important things like

Pushin' my kid on the backyard swing,

I won't break my back for a million bucks,

I can't take to my grave,

Why put off for tomorrow what I could get done today . . .

Like: . . . (Chorus)

Date: Sun, 14 Jul 2002 07:12:28 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mac Stryper
Subject: Re: Walks thru empty houses . . .To: gspencer


Good Morning, Candles in the Wind,

Burning brightly - ever a beacon - like the lighthouses, scattered along the crooked shoreline - piercing the fog - providing a shimmering map - a map to guide our clumsy ship bows by. Awww - my ship sees your light. It now can hug the shore, not too close, not too far - while it steadily moves out to sea - new adventures - another new year. Each getting better and better. Each ringing with fond memories and old songs to remind us of loves lost. Loves found. I feel proud to hold my love high. Like St. Elmo's fire, this love. It will never go out, never die.

The roses were deep red, almost burgundy on the inside, surrounded by a pale, white, outter layer. They were covered with dew. Which, I noticed, only this morning, when I checked their color to be sure. Plastic dew. But, like sparkiling teardrops, reminding me that even with sadness, there is beauty. Spectacular and deep. But, only for those who care to see it. Those who care to "stop, and smell the roses." To see the dewdrops. A care that My Spencer has helped instill in me. Thank you for calling my attention to such a lovely gift. I think a gift of guilt, but a gift is precious, for whatever reason.

The sandwich was turkey. I ate half. Left the other half for his breakfast in the am. I just wish he had been more at ease with me, while I ate. He could not WAIT to get up and go. He is not as comfortable with me, as he is with you. I felt it took away from the value of the moment. This morning, thought back, and I wondered if it was drugs. He was sweaty. His eyes were glassy. Not buggy, tho. He left, so abruptly, without his substance. Without his booze. With very little money. Left so suddenly, as if he had an appointment. But could not say with whom.

He did not come home last night. My heart was broken. I feared this night. I knew it would be tough. I was geared up for it. I did prepare. I did not freak out. I did not alter one rose, one pair of boots, one coin, one certificate of his. I made my tea, showered and shaved, checked for your light in the window, put on my mule pack, and left for work, as I always do. Forgot my tea. Forgot my tears. But, remembered my love. Remembered my vow. I do know hurt. It knows me. We have an understanding. Only let a little out at a time. No floods. No gushers. Be cool. Be strong. Be Steve.

We are all human. We all have desires. Lusts. Summer and youth. Sex and summer. I have only recently begun to get a handle on my lusts. I am 45. I will not judge, unjustly. It would be selfish. It would be cruel. To expect my charge to have a better grasp than I. He is 27. God bless him for caring. My soul leaps for joi for that. That's why the dew on the roses is so sweet to me. Bittersweet. Poetic. Special, like the one who brought them, who received.


DREAM: "Two Medallions"
I had a recurring vision, last night, just before nodding off. Got up to write it down. Saw the same vision, as I attempted to nap earlier in the afternoon. I saw my neck and upper torso. It was bigger, more defined. It was Junior's. On me. Our neck wore two medallions. One on top of the other, offset by half, so both were visible. On a single chain or ribbon. The top one was brilliant red. Set in rubies and gold. The one behind was lighter gold. They had an emblem on them. Similar to the Ferrari. It came and vanished in a split second. All that information in that instant. I suppose red is for second place. But better to place second, than not at all. Or, it could be red for passion. That, it definitely is. Was. Ouch. That hurts. Well, I said I would be placing a new star on my walk of fame. I guess I was decorated, as well! Yes! A medal of valor for this General, to help get me thru my day. A medal I share with my SPencer. YAY!

DREAM: "Evil Regime"

The rest of the night contained nightmares. One of the worst I have ever experienced. In a nutshell, I was in a school. My X-girlfriend from HS was there. There was an Evil Regime. They were dropping filters into our chimneys. Two chimneys per classroom. The filters did not contain Cyanide or gas. They contained a chemical that would cause us to burn to death. Everything would heat up. The floors the air. And we would roast alive. Slowly. Painfully. We would not know which classroom would be first. They went systematically, one by one. Starting at one end, destroying everyone in the room, then the next room. No one could escape. ALl would die. No one knew the hour, the time. Our classroom was first. We began to burn. Linda and I began to die. But we kept holding on. And holding. And holding. Everyone else was dead. We survived. We learned that they had indeed put Cyanide in the filters, along with the other Chemical. So we were almost unconscious from the fumes, but never died. I awoke, still alive.

I knew it was a miracle. I thought of you. Your prayers. Your fight. I fear, today, that something was taken from your soul, again, in the night, in order to help me survive. I woke up and saw Junior's toothbrush was still dry, when I went into the bathroom. I was still feeling I had been miraculously saved, and felt a strength, as I grasped my heart, before I entered into the living room. Knowing the emptiness that awaited, there. I felt a strength from that dream. It carried me thru my morning routine. WIll carry me thru the day. I shall save my tears for a private moment, today. When Dodie and I see each other, over lunch. I suspect she will also send me a sign. A gift. One which I shall pass on to you, today. For I suspect a piece of you was lost, last night. And, for that I will rush to try and restore, with undue haste.

From: "gspencer"
To: "Mac Stryper"
Subject: In to the night . . .
Date: Sun, 14 Jul 2002 00:11:23 -0500

EMAIL: INRE: Constanzas prophecy . . .

. . . with continuing hope, love and prayer; for all of us, all three of us, all four of us, it doesn't matter how many more of us. I know my love in infinite. I never have a doubt of that, I know its growth, I know it has not a boundary through creation eternal. My love is the ever expanding universe, not a spreading thin universe but a growing one where creation continues at the core for it is there God expects our mansions to be.

I told you that at night I give my love to all those I ever loved, past and present and future. I give my love to God for loving me, for letting me love for letting me be loved. You are among those I name, Junior is among those I name. But it is still true. I do not expect the great fruition of my being to be as I dreamed. I took, I took, I took, I took and took again but did not give as I should.

Constance is right, she said it correctly; "once Romeo and Juliet are together it is the end for this plane, for this ever so flawed but ever so beautiful copy of Eden. They will only be together when once again they walk the paths of Eden with the first Father and with the first Friend. When all of his children, their children join them."

Steve, I cannot tell how much I want Joe's love to be the answer to the call of your heart; how I want for your love to be the answer to the call of his heart. I do, I cannot tell you how so. I love you both so much. As you do, I sit and I weep for the hurt that you both have received. I do not weep for the hurt that I have received for in truth all that has ever been given to me has been beautiful, wonderful; they are roses of gold with thorns of rusted iron.

For tasting of the tree I, with my eternal partner, am damned here. I wish I could breathe right now, it would be a bit less painful but my mortal chest with an immortal heart within is strained beyond what I expected; it is constrained.

As Amset did before me, I am here at the temple gate. I am ready to battle, willing to battle, the courage and might is here. I pray I have learned the wiles necessary to succeed all in a battle to my death once again in the name of love.

Plastic roses and a subway sandwich. Are the roses red? It is important to me to know this. Plastic roses; blooms whose colors are long in fading, a surface beauty lasting longer than so I may survive. I do not wish to leave you here alone and I do not want his child to be destroyed. I stand at my window my arms to the world, I send my love across.

I send it even now, I will risk the real ones; creations of those who were made in the image of the Creator but not the creator Himself. Creations lacking the essence, the attar of the real but on a level that is significant to rival that of God's. A subway sandwich, was it turkey or chicken? It is something more I need to know. A subway sandwich, nourishment for the body, the temple of the soul. It is not making dinner but it is a struggled compromise to fulfill a promise; just as you saw. It is a step, it is a movement that is not without care.

I had keys made this day. I gave Junior a key to my apartment today. He was impatient to learn the lower door code. I should have written it for him. I had another key made for you. I told him, my house is his house just as my heart is his heart. The same goes for you; my house is your house, my heart is your heart. I will see you tomorrow and that is good.

The witching hour approaches, within minutes it is here. Another thread of love I send across this land, a life line bringing you back. It is sent. . .

Date: Sat, 13 Jul 2002 19:10:04 -0700 (PDT)

From: Mac Stryper
Subject: Re: Prayers for "The Talk"
To: gspencer

EMAIL: INRE: DREAM - "Things will be OKAY!"

. . . The past couple of nights, I was visited by Forest Claypool, who I was introducing to a friend, saying how proud I was of him, and his recent political victory - (but, he told me he was not officially on the Cook County Board, yet. He only won the Democratic nomination.) Not sure what that is all about.

Also visited by Martha, twice, in fact (actress/director who got mad at me when I didn't want to live with her, and marry her.) Met up with her on some road, and she was laughing and talking like she was in really good spirits. Do you think these folks were trying to give me a message? I am thinking that they were saying things were really okay, but not to go jumping to conclusions. Not really sure, tho. . .

From: "gspencer"
To: "Mac Stryper"
Subject: Calming down, him; . . .
Date: Sat, 13 Jul 2002 09:12:03 -0500

EMAIL: INRE: "Stand between the world and me"

. . . He astounded me the night we returned, when he came back and wanted me to stand between the world and him; to try to keep him from going wrong that evening. We talked late, he was a bit high, not terribly so, we drank wine slowly and talked a great deal. As we sat on the chest by your window, he said: "My job is to have you and Steve look out for me. That's why I am here. I need you two to love and care for me to help me from doing all the things that hurt me. To help fight the things that will harm me." He rephrased that several times, always coming back to "My job is . . ."
Steve, he was so different when he was talking like that, light from outside him, light from inside him. His words were perfectly enunciated, well chosen words, no smoke influence, no alcohol influence; all of that gone before he went to sleep on top of that chest. Who is Joe? I feel strongly that Joe is Eros. He's a match with him but he is a metamorphosizing Eros.
We expected war with the dark lord, we expected to gird our loins and to take up arms. We expected this before his appearance. I did not expect to take up arms in defense of another, other than ourselves, in selfishness of my love for you. I, who has been watched and guarded, never expected this. I, one who has desired the fruition of a greatest love in the physical sense, will find the greatest love in my heart instead of in my arms or in my bed. It is not what Romeo expected, I thought there were no more lessons to be learned. My mistake is that I thought the lessons were over; they are only now being finished. I thought my books are to be messages to the world, they are that, they are also messages to me. Recount your lessons, Spencer, review what you have studied and recognize what has happened.