Take Another Look

{May 19, 2010}   Trying to solve this…

September 11, 2008.
Current mood: disappointed
Category: Friends
Honesty is a big word. I’m so tired of the way people have been relating to me. I feel like they are trying to catch up to what I knew a long time ago, and if they ever do catch up, I will no longer be there for them to catch up to, because I will have been forced to bail. Or my boat would drown.

I thought my friends were growing up.

By growing up, I thought they would become more honest. Honesty means keeping true to your word, honesty means saying things you don’t want to admit. When did so many people grow so deceitful?

Did I hope for too long that my standing there would change them? It didn’t even make a tiny dent in their awareness.

instead, the people I’ve known the longest no longer have the courage to tell me the truth about our relationship, or what they think about me, or what they have said. Occasionally they might tell me something they did, but only because they think I’m in no position to judge and they know i won’t tell anybody who matters.

Without this honesty from others, I look to the past, because I saw these people who were better people than they are now. It’s hard for me to believe that change can make a person age but not evolve. It’s hard to recognize arrested development because people who are arrested make up for it in so many ways. They might have big careers, or be good at using people, but they have become a worse person who is unhappier in most ways.

I will stop berating myself for choosing the wrong friends. Back then, I didn’t choose the wrong people. But my loyalty is to a fault. I know that but now I must recognize that I did use the word fault in that sentence. If people know I will always be around, why would they care if I get the honesty I deserve?

I wish I knew how to leave certain people. I know how to leave the extreme people, but I don’t know how to deal with the really smooth liars. The ones who convince me in the present that things are okay. The ones who have really good excuses.

I must give up on the idea of my honesty changing them because it repels them. And if it repels them, they are like a self-involved adolescent. No dignity, no guts.

And instead of pining away for somebody to remind me what qualities I have, I let people say cruel things feeling I don’t know how to deal with it besides walking away and then returning when they are in a different mood. I’m going to change this… somehow.

This one I wrote November 23, 2008.
But first I want to SAY something….

I found some stuff that shocks me because… it is evidence that I am still struggling with things I was struggling with over a year ago. I live through a moving kaleidoscope, and each year or longer I have a new problem that I attack from as many points of view and as many dimensions as possible. Every day it looks like a new problem to me. I just hadn’t realized how long this has been going on- this fight against something sociological. Then I threw myself into the arms of what I thought was reality and purity and empathy. But another person cannot be your solution. But what do you do when you have all this love that is as specific and thorough as a bullet from a gun? Do you throw the gun into a garbage can if it’s not reciprocal anymore? Do you wait? Give up? Move on? This metaphor has serious limitations since shooting somebody is violent.

Part of my predicament has always been that I’ve become somebody who will throw myself in front of a bus to prove to somebody that those weren’t just words, THAT WAS REAL. Now I have a small doubt- all this proving (over and over) is it to me???? But I know it was real. Why do I need proof of what I know was real?

Oh…………I feel like such a… oh….

I was proving it to myself? Was I? That my art was genuine, that everything was genuine? I felt the need to check every day to make sure? EVERY DAY?

Why do I have so much to prove? Why can’t I just say, I don’t need to prove anything to anybody? I don’t know when I began, but I now equate love with sacrifice to such a high standard. But their sacrifice- I just assume that it’s there. Shouldn’t there be peace? I’m a fighter to the core. But even fighters need peace… maybe more than other people. I appreciate subtlety and detail in everything.. I see so much as being art… Maybe my life?

Some of this writing is so different from how I feel now, but overall… the struggle… to discover whether or not what was shared with another person was as meaningful to me as to them… is the same. The only thing that changed was the stakes… they went way up. Dunno how. I decided that past passions were nothing in comparison. How can we know these things… Why did I feel that I had to know these things… But I also felt that I was stronger than I was in the past. Even more invincible. Which is what got me in trouble the first time. I assumed I had learned from experience. I assumed I was being way more careful. Because I felt a piece I hadn’t had before. And then it became bigger and bigger, the whole thing. Started out as a copycat and became more real than the original.

Keep trying to hit a home run like the old days but the weight inside is making me think I need to lose.

Maybe it’s living with Mike. Maybe it’s being alone. I would be okay with a family someday, and okay with no family. I would be okay being unloved, and okay being loved. Now these are the words of somebody trying to deduce what is really going on. I am saying these things like somebody throwing up balls in the air, seeing if one of them will defy gravity. (Moan.. isn’t there some stupid show called defying gravity?)


From Myspace, November 23, 2008.

This should appear as a video from utube of Bobby Fischer the chess player but instead it appears as a link.


“Maybe the reason Fischer irritated people so often is that he was willing to give voice to a lot of not-so-nice thoughts & sensations that most of us keep deeply buried- politically incorrect flashes of sadism, egoism, hatred, etc. I suspect his so-called “craziness” was actually mostly about his peculiar, almost childlike honesty — which would naturally seem bizarre in a world where the rest of us have become adroit at appearing inoffensive to others (and ourselves).” -(I’m not sure if I wrote this part or if a video commentator did.)

The video made me feel better…Reminded me of a time when I had more confidence. Fischer’s laugh surprised me too… I’ve never seen that. People really fucked up when they wrote his biography, and they really fuck up when they talk about him.

I don’t have hardly anybody who I can talk to honestly anymore and it’s ruining things. Dave, this guy Frank… But it’s not enough, and it’s more complicated than that. I can’t even talk about it now because people make these stupid assumptions. I need to let my f-cking anger out because it’s turning to sorrow and the sorrow is turning me into somebody who is so insulated and quiet and unobtrusive I’m not accomplishing what I want to. So fuck everybody, I’m tired of me trying SOOOO hard to sound acceptable. And me “trying really hard to sound okay” gets viewed as me trying to make some kind of character assassination. God Forbid I have an opinion about something somebody is doing. Nowadays, friends are the people you go to for big fat lies. I understand the need for support and encouragement, but I don’t condone this whole idea that if you watch somebody doing something wrong or evolving into somebody who no longer has morals, or who is losing their essence, that it is just wrong to speak up and be specific about what you see as the problems. My idea of tact was simply leaving out my opinions and addressing the stuff that involved me, but even that is very BAD. It means sacrificing their friendship if I say anything. I have to read every single line by ANOTHER friend to make sure it sounds fake enough to send. People take everything so seriously, me included.

And I’m really scared. Instead of being angry, then being sad, I’ve reached SCARED. So I am giving myself permission to this little entry, which, if anybody reads, will win me enemies.
But the last thing in the world I need or want to feel is fear. When you are scared you accomplish nothing. I walk around wanting to be small and invisible and hiding under a blanket. And FUCK B for saying that my writing lacked punctuation! I went from being so in love to thinking he is a total psychopath. And I don’t have a close friend to confide in about it. I’m really confused, and I’m beginning to think that the only person I’ve ever romantically loved in my life (maybe there is no such thing and I just was a victim of thinking that one should bother to do anything about loneliness or attraction or caring so much about somebody that you become a force of nature that doesn’t stop where they begin or start where they end….ANd no, that is not a borderline thing.) I am so tired of saying logical meaningful things to somebody who dismisses them and doesn’t write me back. I thought it was so romantic but now I am questioning it all. Mostly, I am wondering if they lack the ability to sense distress or fear on another person or relate to it because they do not feel fear themself.I’ve been up for a while researching this, and I learned that this is the definition of a psychopath… unlike what most people think, only one percent of people in prisons are psychopaths. Many psychopaths are really successful people holding normal jobs.

I also hate the way that whenever you say something you learned now, somebody will contradict you no matter what you said. Because anywhere you go anybody can say they outsourced youl. Nowadays it’s not what you say, but where you got the information from.

I feel better after writing this, like I just had a pissing contest bashing the way I’ve been deffering to everything for a long time.

And I refuse to feel anymore guilt or confusion. Yes, yesterday I felt a ray of sunshine and bliss and a completely new experience where I felt like I was neither a performer or an observer. (and in life I feel like I’m almost always playing one or both). I felt so present… But afterward there was reality and I felt like I had to seek oblivion afterward, and after that oblivion, it brought back traumatic memories which were NEVER resolved, contradictions and promises that were never met, things I did and said which were so striking and bold and loud that they could not be ignored, yet the person ignored them…and I found this enchanting instead of manipulative. “Oh, they can handle my wild side” i thought. Or maybe they just don’t get it. I’m mad at the lie they are living and if they feel and are they way my intuition SCREAMS they are, then they should be with me. And if they are not feeling this way, they deserve to be locked in a cage for the performance of a lifetime they put on.

Scammers = people who take advantage of those who are greedy or vain

Scummers = people who prey on those who are feeling lonely or vulnerable


My friend wrote this over the FIRST one about honesty.

I think that those were some very brave realizations on your part. It can be so easy to let people lie to you over and over again and just push it off as nothing. The odd thing about it being easy though is that it is not easy on the inner most self, because deep down you know the truth in some weird way.

Thank you Christina. I know you were just ONE person, but if you were here I know it would make such a difference in my life. I just found a suicide note under my door from one of my friends, others just don’t bother to return calls and lie to me, and others play mind games with my heart. You play mind games with my mind, not my heart! Oh, that’s right, I forgot to tell you that B saw me again. Complicated. Will he come back? He wrote an email suggesting another encounter, but i may not have responded in a way that will bring him back. Who knows? Anyway, I miss my sane, intelligent, thoughtful friend. Don’t feel that you are sane because of these crazy comparisons. I simply find that sanity is a really rare quality right now. I wish I could go back to before I was born and choose to be born in some backwater town like Dawson’s creek where things are simple. I mean, Joey and Dawson always went on about how complex they had it. They had no idea what adult life would be like. And that’s why adolescent films are almost always so much more successful… there is a mark to hit. With adult films, we don’t know where to go… or not go…etc.
Love you always,


{April 29, 2010}   etc.

I have been writing here but not publishing… feeling like everything that has been written before was written in a sort of fury… as if i could beat time… as if i was in a water tornado… and when i did try to write, I’d get short closed descriptions that don’t go anywhere… I need to find my sense of time and feel comfortable in it again… instead of trying to be behind it or ahead of it all the time. Obviously it’s a problem we all face.. some in different directions than others.. but I have been writing.. just, well life has been different..

and i dont care about giving a handful of excuses

it’s not that

et cetera