Emailed Juliet this morning that if she were not ultimately my wife that she would certainly be the closest second. That it is an honor to be getting to know her as a good solid lifelong friend, again—--[feels like that kind of friendship—something that has continued throughout many lifetimes.] at brunch this morning, felt a good sense of relief from jotting those words down to her. Kind of like sending a message in a bottle out to sea, or ripping up a love letter into a million little pieces and throwing it up into the wind and letting them fly away. it took the pressure off of my mind concerning what could be called the ‘Juliet factor.’ So now no matter what happens, whether it is she, or as I suspect, a passing fancy on the way to the altar with my true love, its all good. my feeling now is that Juliet being the closest thing I have met to someone I would like to spend lots of time with in the last few years has just captured a certain something in my mind. My mind is at ease though now.

Something very addictive about Miami to me still, the beautiful weather and the breathtaking skylines overlooking the water. lots of things still to complete with my boys, but I would be much happier up in nyc. Something dreadful here as well, a deadness in the air, a nothingness that although every now and then it appears like something, is truly nothing; you can actually feel it. Rockaway says to me about hanging out in Miami, “I wish I could be hanging out with people I actually like rather than just tolerate. I've never seen a place where you get introduced to someone five times and they still don't know who you are the next time you meet them.” It’s uncanny. Juliet mentioned that as we are about to leave places that have a lot of karma for us, it all comes crashing in, almost as a way to keep us there for some weird reason. I continue to tell myself that there is nothing left for me here, and that would be true if it were not for my boys.

I have found it hard now that I am right at the edge to take the final step. But luckily we ended up by pure accident, perhaps more ignorance, in a very slummy and tiny apartment in the ghetto essentially. As I type the toilet is leaking buckets of water onto the floor of the tiny bathroom. Towels are soaked all over the place. and they have the water pipe blocked so you can’t stop it without some special wrench. Ah, the benefits of renting. So it certainly makes it easier to leave here. and also we are on South beach, versus the mainland; and South beach is not as nice or appealing or cozy as the mainland is. the mainland of Miami still holds a lot of charm for me. South beach not much at all. I've observed also that Bas has mysteriously, miraculously, serendipitously begun a very deep and passionate new relationship with a really nice girl. She could be the one. so that's a good thing too. because he's going to be pretty busy with her for the next six months or so. You know how that goes. Next week I will go look at more apts in New York.

Current Spin: North by Elvis Costello. Perhaps his best album ever? Really good. Terry Reilly in C. Interesting avant garde minimalism from the late sixties. Don't like it as much as Philip glass or Steve reiche. Predictable. Exists only because it had to. something needed to.