"What are you up to?"
"Barely alive. Tuesdays are @(#!)@! Too much time with nasty cheap tourists. Y tu, Hyde? Perhaps Schtirlitz some time this week?"
"Yes! Imbibing and talking to a 53 year old. Missing Narc and you!"
"That's good-- 'cept for Narc... Careful with 53 year old. I had an old hag hit on me last night."
"Okay. I'm in a weird mood. Want adventure but not trouble."
"Please be careful with imbibing too. So says Bezoukhoff. Keep it in a bottle. Release slowly. That way you know where adventure ends and trouble begins. Be careful... you know I need you."
"You need me?"
"Da. Didn't notice? Heck. You saved me from a fever."
"What the fuck are you talking about? Did you read my blog? I should tell you I'm drunk now. Care no more and say no more.."
"If I upset you, I'm sorrier than you think. I need you-- you save me from much and my life is so much the better for it. It's just that text message isn't good for expressing it all. Sorry for being so unclear now."
"Huh? In fact, I should say no more. Nite!"
"I knew I was unclear. Tomorrow will be a better day. Maybe let's meet Thursday?"
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Finding Myself (on Coke)
Ok.
So, here I am trying to do my "homework." Therapy homework. Who would have ever thought that journaling would become homework? I don't know... I'm sitting way too close to the door. It's pretty fucking cold. Hold on. I don't like this pen. I want to see if I can switch.
Ok.
Found another. Now I'm using my "Sha-Barbara McDaniel" pen. Weird. I'm not feeling right right now. Even after just a little bit. I have to remember this feeling. Even if I can't (or don't want to) remember it, I have to know it as a fact-- to always embrace it as a maxim-- that in the end, I REALLY DON'T LIKE THIS STUFF. It's all about being afraid of the come-down off this whole crazy trip that I've been on for the past nine months-- a lifetime lived, it seems (albeit a depraved one!). But I have to remind myself-- to keep telling myself-- I WILL survive this. Something WILL follow.
Today is "shorts and longs sleeves" weather. Of course, I'm wearing jeans, but it reminds me of that party so many years ago at Uncle N's house-- and I wore white denim shorts (they were kind of long) and that teal green hooded long-sleeved t-shirt from the Gap.
It's so fucking crowded in here tonight and I don't like it. I think it's for the Baseball. The Yankees are on. I guess no one gets the YES network at home. I had a good time with Bezoukhoff last night. It's too bad I can't find a guy who is caring and who I can talk to like that. Bezoukhoff and I are too much alike. He actually seemed to want to hear and share things that came from me. To see me. Would Narc have ever tolerated (even for two minutes) looking at an old album, hearing my compositions or seeing my sketchbook? Dr. G. was right, what she said today-- that I must feel degraded from the whole experience. And you know what? I do.
Just took a really long break from this. NDN came by and we talked for quite a while. We talked about all of my crazy stories from the fall. He told me that my life is quite "colorful" (to say the least.) What's going to happen to me though if (when!) it's not that way anymore?
Sometimes I think I don't even know what there is of me under all of this. How pathetic that seems, but how true! Maybe I've just hit on something big here-- that beneath the chaos, I don't know who I am. I used to feel that way about my "artistic gloominess." That if I gave up my "depression," I wouldn't be me. Well, of course I'd be me, but I couldn't (can't) imagine who that would be. I think it's important to get external validation from people. (BarMan just said that his dad died of lung cancer). I never expose the true me. So, how can it be reinforced to me at all? Maybe that's why I feel so isolated? Maybe that's why it's not at all strange to me that Narc had no interest in knowing me or seeing me-- hardly anyone knows me and sees me. All of that stupid shit that I post up on my blog-- that's not me. I'm not Hyde. I'm not Jekyll either. I'm a mermaid. I'm a Romanov princess. I'm a fiercely loyal lover who wants to be a family to my love. I'll fight like I lioness for those I love. It breaks my heart to hurt people's feelings. I get a thrill from danger. I get joy in life from kitsch. I love doing things to make those I love smile. I want a boy to do things for-- but one who will see me in return-- not just drain me. I love the Song to the Moon for so many reasons. I'm not embarrassed of loving cheesy sweeping melodies. I pay such careful attention to color and setting. I see the world expressionistically. My feelings are hurt very easily. I am crazy stubborn. I can't accept failure. I can be emotionally manipulative but I always lost in the end anyway because I'd rather give in than be abandoned. I compromise myself and it hurts. It hurts so much that I can't ever let anynoe see it. It would shatter me I would feel the degradation then. I wouldn't be able to tolerate it. I would be so embarrassed. I have a lot of pride and false bravado. I feel unacknowledged and under-appreciated.
Is this who I am?
I believe in love fiercely and passionately. I'm willing to try almost everything. I notice details. I write my life like a book-- once something happens, it's etched in memory. Even if I forgive, I certainly never forget. I am my past. I miss Narc because I failed. I don't really believe dreams will come true. But I madly indulge in my dreams anyway. I don't reallbelieve in God, but I believe in ghosts, fate, ritual and pray by instinct. I'm obsessed with relics, traditions and magic. The only things that measures near to my emotions are the sea ad sky. I love to aestheticize life and then laugh at myself for being pretentious. Then I laugh at myself for being so self-aware and then so aware of being self-aware and then again for my whole foolish po-mo quandary. I have more crushes than anyone I know and I thoroughly enjoy them. I'm very concerned that I will disappoint my parents and my ancestors. I know something must be wrong with me that I haven't found someone to love me. I feel like I am disgusting to most people in this world. Why did B leave me? Where did I go wrong? If I can figure out why I wasn't good enough, maybe I can fix it and find someone to take me. Until then, I'll have to continue to accept what I have.
The whole world is a market-place, bottom line. And whatever assets I do have, they must have very low market value. How did I win Narc? Would he ever have talked to me to begin with if I hadn't been doing coke that night? I doubt it. In fact, it was probably James' idea. He's the one that is so into coke. I can just imagine their whole conversation. Why couldn't I hold him though? I've always gone on the premise that once someone bothered to see me, I'd be loved. B left me anyway though. I wasn't pretty enough. I wouldn't impress his family or friends or make him feel good about himself. Lesson learned/ That even if you do manage to find someone, he'll toss you back. Non one wants you as "the one." You'll never have anyone to love unless you have a child... a fatherless child. That's just what we need... more fatherless children.
Doesn't Narc know I would have been willing to do anything for him? I think he does. It just wasn't enough. I never will be, so why bother? Right? Just drown it out.
"Shut the fuck up!" he said.
Drown it all out.
**********************
Still here...
Just hung up with Anxious. Pissed off. "Just let it go," she said. And implied I was competitive and fucked up compartmentalized. Fuck that.
So, here I am trying to do my "homework." Therapy homework. Who would have ever thought that journaling would become homework? I don't know... I'm sitting way too close to the door. It's pretty fucking cold. Hold on. I don't like this pen. I want to see if I can switch.
Ok.
Found another. Now I'm using my "Sha-Barbara McDaniel" pen. Weird. I'm not feeling right right now. Even after just a little bit. I have to remember this feeling. Even if I can't (or don't want to) remember it, I have to know it as a fact-- to always embrace it as a maxim-- that in the end, I REALLY DON'T LIKE THIS STUFF. It's all about being afraid of the come-down off this whole crazy trip that I've been on for the past nine months-- a lifetime lived, it seems (albeit a depraved one!). But I have to remind myself-- to keep telling myself-- I WILL survive this. Something WILL follow.
Today is "shorts and longs sleeves" weather. Of course, I'm wearing jeans, but it reminds me of that party so many years ago at Uncle N's house-- and I wore white denim shorts (they were kind of long) and that teal green hooded long-sleeved t-shirt from the Gap.
It's so fucking crowded in here tonight and I don't like it. I think it's for the Baseball. The Yankees are on. I guess no one gets the YES network at home. I had a good time with Bezoukhoff last night. It's too bad I can't find a guy who is caring and who I can talk to like that. Bezoukhoff and I are too much alike. He actually seemed to want to hear and share things that came from me. To see me. Would Narc have ever tolerated (even for two minutes) looking at an old album, hearing my compositions or seeing my sketchbook? Dr. G. was right, what she said today-- that I must feel degraded from the whole experience. And you know what? I do.
Just took a really long break from this. NDN came by and we talked for quite a while. We talked about all of my crazy stories from the fall. He told me that my life is quite "colorful" (to say the least.) What's going to happen to me though if (when!) it's not that way anymore?
Sometimes I think I don't even know what there is of me under all of this. How pathetic that seems, but how true! Maybe I've just hit on something big here-- that beneath the chaos, I don't know who I am. I used to feel that way about my "artistic gloominess." That if I gave up my "depression," I wouldn't be me. Well, of course I'd be me, but I couldn't (can't) imagine who that would be. I think it's important to get external validation from people. (BarMan just said that his dad died of lung cancer). I never expose the true me. So, how can it be reinforced to me at all? Maybe that's why I feel so isolated? Maybe that's why it's not at all strange to me that Narc had no interest in knowing me or seeing me-- hardly anyone knows me and sees me. All of that stupid shit that I post up on my blog-- that's not me. I'm not Hyde. I'm not Jekyll either. I'm a mermaid. I'm a Romanov princess. I'm a fiercely loyal lover who wants to be a family to my love. I'll fight like I lioness for those I love. It breaks my heart to hurt people's feelings. I get a thrill from danger. I get joy in life from kitsch. I love doing things to make those I love smile. I want a boy to do things for-- but one who will see me in return-- not just drain me. I love the Song to the Moon for so many reasons. I'm not embarrassed of loving cheesy sweeping melodies. I pay such careful attention to color and setting. I see the world expressionistically. My feelings are hurt very easily. I am crazy stubborn. I can't accept failure. I can be emotionally manipulative but I always lost in the end anyway because I'd rather give in than be abandoned. I compromise myself and it hurts. It hurts so much that I can't ever let anynoe see it. It would shatter me I would feel the degradation then. I wouldn't be able to tolerate it. I would be so embarrassed. I have a lot of pride and false bravado. I feel unacknowledged and under-appreciated.
Is this who I am?
I believe in love fiercely and passionately. I'm willing to try almost everything. I notice details. I write my life like a book-- once something happens, it's etched in memory. Even if I forgive, I certainly never forget. I am my past. I miss Narc because I failed. I don't really believe dreams will come true. But I madly indulge in my dreams anyway. I don't reallbelieve in God, but I believe in ghosts, fate, ritual and pray by instinct. I'm obsessed with relics, traditions and magic. The only things that measures near to my emotions are the sea ad sky. I love to aestheticize life and then laugh at myself for being pretentious. Then I laugh at myself for being so self-aware and then so aware of being self-aware and then again for my whole foolish po-mo quandary. I have more crushes than anyone I know and I thoroughly enjoy them. I'm very concerned that I will disappoint my parents and my ancestors. I know something must be wrong with me that I haven't found someone to love me. I feel like I am disgusting to most people in this world. Why did B leave me? Where did I go wrong? If I can figure out why I wasn't good enough, maybe I can fix it and find someone to take me. Until then, I'll have to continue to accept what I have.
The whole world is a market-place, bottom line. And whatever assets I do have, they must have very low market value. How did I win Narc? Would he ever have talked to me to begin with if I hadn't been doing coke that night? I doubt it. In fact, it was probably James' idea. He's the one that is so into coke. I can just imagine their whole conversation. Why couldn't I hold him though? I've always gone on the premise that once someone bothered to see me, I'd be loved. B left me anyway though. I wasn't pretty enough. I wouldn't impress his family or friends or make him feel good about himself. Lesson learned/ That even if you do manage to find someone, he'll toss you back. Non one wants you as "the one." You'll never have anyone to love unless you have a child... a fatherless child. That's just what we need... more fatherless children.
Doesn't Narc know I would have been willing to do anything for him? I think he does. It just wasn't enough. I never will be, so why bother? Right? Just drown it out.
"Shut the fuck up!" he said.
Drown it all out.
**********************
Still here...
Just hung up with Anxious. Pissed off. "Just let it go," she said. And implied I was competitive and fucked up compartmentalized. Fuck that.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Spaghetti
@ Cheers and waiting for B to finish with French class. Making spaghetti and meatballs tonight...
Thursday, February 24, 2005
On Death's Door
One month... It all seems so stupiud. All I can do now is pray for my stepbrother. Pray, pray, pray that he'll be strong enough.
Monday, January 24, 2005
Mama Said...
Lost and then found...
Today unsettled all day and then amazingly attacked by my mom, as if I were Jewel. I feel like it's so unfair. But what if she's right? She acknowledged that I am living up to my responsibilities, but not to my potential. As if she's only going to help me out if I do certain things. With "health" as a priority. But what about room for my own choices? To figure out who I want to be as a person?
What about happiness?
What if that's not the same as living to one's potential? Shouldn't I be able to choose?
I feel like this is something I'd want to talk to Narc about because he would understand where she's coming from in terms of ambition and potential and maybe put it to me differently. I miss him. Missing something I never had. I just hate that my mom did this to me. It's so unfair when I'm only doing my best.
Today unsettled all day and then amazingly attacked by my mom, as if I were Jewel. I feel like it's so unfair. But what if she's right? She acknowledged that I am living up to my responsibilities, but not to my potential. As if she's only going to help me out if I do certain things. With "health" as a priority. But what about room for my own choices? To figure out who I want to be as a person?
What about happiness?
What if that's not the same as living to one's potential? Shouldn't I be able to choose?
I feel like this is something I'd want to talk to Narc about because he would understand where she's coming from in terms of ambition and potential and maybe put it to me differently. I miss him. Missing something I never had. I just hate that my mom did this to me. It's so unfair when I'm only doing my best.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Narc's TV
Later- much. Next day.
Flying Daggers, volleyball game, waiting in snow, High low, didn't change, lunch with Bezoukhoff, flood of texts, two quick glasses at Cheers and a night that bled into 6:00 pm the next day. (It's 6:18 now, to be exact). And Cutting Edge is on TV. Narc is getting ready to go to his improv class (now on Thursdays) and I guess I should go to. We watch too much TV together. I wonder if it makes him think I'm uninteresting.
No sex today. I wonder why about that too. Does it mean I'm uninteresting? Sometimes I'm not sure how to be. And I think I have to meet NV tonight. Kind of want to go back to Cheers in the interim, but have to fix my hair first.
adventuresociety.com
"The World is Made of Glass" -Morris West
Flying Daggers, volleyball game, waiting in snow, High low, didn't change, lunch with Bezoukhoff, flood of texts, two quick glasses at Cheers and a night that bled into 6:00 pm the next day. (It's 6:18 now, to be exact). And Cutting Edge is on TV. Narc is getting ready to go to his improv class (now on Thursdays) and I guess I should go to. We watch too much TV together. I wonder if it makes him think I'm uninteresting.
No sex today. I wonder why about that too. Does it mean I'm uninteresting? Sometimes I'm not sure how to be. And I think I have to meet NV tonight. Kind of want to go back to Cheers in the interim, but have to fix my hair first.
adventuresociety.com
"The World is Made of Glass" -Morris West
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Tom L.
(Tom L.)
Last night I totally fucked up. Didn't keep a single one of my New Year's Resolutions! Now my throat is burning from coke and I can't sleep and Narc is snoring next to me. Last night was definitely weird. At the very end of the night, at Cheers, two things happened. One-- that guy, Tom L. came in. Second (or I suppose, "Two")-- I decided to start drinking. This has to stop. I need to just set a number of days and decide to stop drinking.
Anyway, Cheers closed and the guy and I left together (sort of discreetly). We walked up towards Thaddy Con's (which was closed). I think it was around 2:00 am. Then we went to Manchester with a bartender named Willy. They promised to stay open until 4:00 am.
Tom and I got increasingly drunk and at some point the decision was made to go back to my place to "hang out" a la "a very medicinal evening." He didn't do very much coke, which left a shitload for me. He pretty much passed out, leaving me bored, restless and still lovesick.
I ended up talking to Liu on the phone for a while. She really came through for me. Then Narc came up on my call waiting. I haven't yet processed the rest of the night enough to write about it. I'm lying next to him right now, freezing my ass off...
Last night I totally fucked up. Didn't keep a single one of my New Year's Resolutions! Now my throat is burning from coke and I can't sleep and Narc is snoring next to me. Last night was definitely weird. At the very end of the night, at Cheers, two things happened. One-- that guy, Tom L. came in. Second (or I suppose, "Two")-- I decided to start drinking. This has to stop. I need to just set a number of days and decide to stop drinking.
Anyway, Cheers closed and the guy and I left together (sort of discreetly). We walked up towards Thaddy Con's (which was closed). I think it was around 2:00 am. Then we went to Manchester with a bartender named Willy. They promised to stay open until 4:00 am.
Tom and I got increasingly drunk and at some point the decision was made to go back to my place to "hang out" a la "a very medicinal evening." He didn't do very much coke, which left a shitload for me. He pretty much passed out, leaving me bored, restless and still lovesick.
I ended up talking to Liu on the phone for a while. She really came through for me. Then Narc came up on my call waiting. I haven't yet processed the rest of the night enough to write about it. I'm lying next to him right now, freezing my ass off...
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