August 28th

I go to the gym everyday and spend hours of hard work for a goal of which I cannot say my heart is 100% set on. Laziness is something that I am guilty of daily though not in the physical sense but in the psychological sense. I don't know what makes me happy and yet what effort do I put forth to contemplate what will make me happy, the answer is not clear. I wish I knew. All I can say is that everyday I work to get closer to my goal I don't feel any better, what is the point to work so hard just to one day die? What happens when you die, does the aftermath of death make all the struggles in life worth the wait or do you realize how important the little things you had and enjoyed were and the point of which life concludes you become nothing. How can one say that they truly are something? You don't know...tell me anything that is a "truth" and explain to me how you or whomever you believe to be so knowledgeable has such a supremacy in the universe that they are correct...even a simple equation such as one plus one. Tell me that that is a definite. There are no definites besides the one absolute in life that one day (or night) your body will stop working for whatever reason and the greatest questions of my life will be answered. What happens after death? I do not fear death though I do fear that when the time comes, I may look back and regret...Alas I carry on in hopes that one day I will grasp happiness and live a fulfilling life. So I strive to fill my schedule to partake in the process of elimination (in regards to what doesn't make me smile or feel as if I am happy) and to be productive.

I woke up just early enough to have my oatmeal, pack my clothes for the day, and take the train (ALL LOCAL STOPS ON WEEKENDS) all in perfect timing to walk into my gym 2 minutes past opening. I did my work out, showered, shaved and took the train to Union Square where I walked two avenues west to catch the F train which took 20 minutes to arrive and then got off at my old residence where the hostel used to be located. I met a man there to try on three shirts he made for a photo shoot tomorrow...they were made from bamboo, softer than egyptian cotton. He was satisfied with the fit and told me of the details for our shoot.

Being near the old hostel location definitely bums me out. I get the feeling of when I was younger and would fall in love so quickly and then in the same time I had fallen for a girl the same time I would have a broken heart. My time at the hostel was brief but it had such an impact on me; the people I met, my experiences in the hostel, and my experiences in the city while living in the hostel. I sincerely wish the place were still running and Collin were my boss and Hanna was still the owner and I still had my bed in the corner (next to Collin) in the back. It was simple, somewhat of a small community, and surreal. "If its too good to be true, it usually is"...NYC why do you fuck with my so badly?! I cherish those times and my interactions with the people I had there...when I think more deeply, I cherish the emotion I felt when I was there. Perhaps it was because I was so new to NYC or perhaps it truly was a magical place, it felt like a whole new world-must be a combination.

I was unable to linger as I had to head to Brooklyn to pose nude for an art class. I arrived to my artists studio, filled my water bottle, and undressed myself. Today was 3 hours of holding a pose for 20 minutes and then breaking for 4 minutes and continuing this pattern until 3 hours had found its way past our start. This session differed from the last as before I was changing my pose very often but this time was forced to hold the same pose so as the timer reached our first 20 minute marker, the head artist used tape to mark my hands and feet so I could get back into place. While I was seated, there was a twist in my back and to be sitting in a turning position for virtually 3 hours is not easy.

I tried to determine whether this was easier work than catering or moving. You do have quite a bit of time just to think, shame how the struggle to stay in pose hinders my ability to fathom methods towards happiness. The aforementioned lines of work require physical stamina but this motionless 3 hours of employment requires stamina of the psyche.

Once you get over the fact that you're naked in front of a bunch of strangers you acknowledge the difficulty of staying still and in pose for basically 3 hours. I try to see who is staring at me, my body, or my cock...peek at their drawing papers as their heads drop to add the next line of my recreation on paper...and attempt to profile the people. There is no other point for the profiling other than to kill time. 3 hours came and went and I was off to fifth avenue for a night of catering at a wedding.

Earlier in the week I had an "open call" for a catering company based in the upper west side. I lied at the group interview and said that I had heard about the gathering last minute which is why I came with no resume nor head shot when in reality I knew that I did not need them. If an employer is truly seeking staff for a job which requires no true skill then they will hire me. The interviewer asked everyone what they do and what their experience in the service field involved and when she got to me she wrote all my info down on the back of the "actor" next to mes resume-brutal. Needless to say, later that day I got a call from the woman saying "so we're skipping the next step of the interview process and we'd like to see if you are available to work Saturday night". Of course the offer was accepted and I was officially hired by yet another caterer.

This event was for some spoiled bitch who was marrying some unfortunate wall street looking type. I was fortunate enough to arrive after the entire place was set up so all that I was required to do was serve and assist with the break down. The location was pretty nice, right on fifth avenue and on the 12th floor (roof top). The bride freaked out because her husband saw her while he was headed to the roof and I just wanted to slap her in the face and tell her that she didn't need to worry about that nonsense of not being able to see this and that as that will cause bad luck because she was already a bitch and would obviously push him to alcoholism if his job didn't first. She was pretty tame the rest of the night, the guests at my assigned table however were not.

Before I could pour the first glass of wine they spilled a glass of water so obviously with the wine present there was not an inch on my table to be unmoistened. I was beyond pleasant and helpful until I went to take the plate from a woman finished with her meal and she grabbed my wrist and barked at me telling me that I don't take a plate until everyone is finished. Bitch is lucky she didn't lose her dentures and please if your tits sag to your belly button don't wear a fuckin low cut dress.

The party faded out around midnight and with breakdown we were out by 12:45am. With trains running local I was unable to make it home any sooner than 2am. The new employer was OK. They made sure we were fed and taken care of though lacked direction in the busy times. I'll give them another chance. It was certainly a long day.