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2002:March:13
"You come to me with the phone in your hand, you come to me with your hair curled tight, you come to me with excuses" I come to you, as such, with coffee and cigarettes this morning. Excuses, is that what I talk to you about gentle reader? I really thought I was starting to get somewhere with myself and my reader, but now, I am not so sure. I am so affected by people that I interact with and I tend to lose myself in the process. Not always, mind you, and I do love my friends all very much. Yes, I am very accomodating, this does not mean that I do not care about what other people are saying. I do bring up myself a lot with people, when I am talking to people. Part of it is filling in the gaps, I am very good at maintaining conversations, part of it is, or so I thought, is helping this other person I am talking to. Is it insane of me to think that I may relay some wisdom to you with what I have to say? I do want you to get out what you are saying. I love learning from people, my friends, strangers, etc., I think it is essential to life. I want to know your take on everything, your opinion, how you are making your day to day life work for yourself. I want to know what your hopes and dreams are today. I would not share myself and talk to people otherwise. Unfortunately, I still seek affirmation and approval, this is true. I am self centered and selfish but not judgemental as a general rule. In social situations, I ask others what is on their mind, first, because the first thing on my mind, when I enter such an event, is not always the most engaging thing, so I bottle up and ask people about themselves. Selfish, because I do wish to surrender myself from what I am thinking about myself and my life. And selfish too, because I want inspiration from this person because I often see happiness in others before I see it in myself. What am I bottling up? I guess it is always different but, I think, always boring. Last night, for example, when I walked up to my friend's house, I was thinking about you, gentle reader. I wanted to write to you from my friend's house because I am behind on my rent and I am afraid of the landlord coming to the door here at my apatment. And I wanted to look outside while we spoke to one another. I wanted to talk about something other than this analysis paralysis you see before you. But I am petty and I am a small little man, I know. No one would listen to these rants in person, I know that gentle reader. I know, fix it, get a second job, something, anything. You know, it is interesting to me, I have never had a taro or astrological reading where the money card or some business about money was not intregal. My psychics said that this was a positive thing. But I did not think so at the time and I certainly do not now. Sure, money has come my way and I let it fly away because I think too small. I think, perhaps, that these readings are saying that money is the thing that holds me back. No, not so much having it or not having it, but not trying hard when I do have it and pretending that I am not worried when I do not have it. "Moral/bank/hole in wall.." I react to money in a similar fashion, as if my bank account is the measure of my worth. Sadness, filth, I know but I never have really had money for very long. Well, never really. I do not forsee this changing and I have been trying, for years now, to break this cycle. Accept your limitations and move on, I keep telling myself in spite of myself. Scared and ashamed, once again, I am afraid, all over again, of believing in myself and my ability to sell myself to others.
My friend Kristen once said to me "If you can't say anything interesting, don't say anything at all." Painful, honest, and a typical comment from one of the hard K's, as I refer to them. I wasted this advice at the time and just reacted, as usual, within myself. Me, the dumb one, running a close second with LBJ, the democrat with the lowest I. Q. The hard K's were the only ones who were ever honest with me and, consequently, the hardest to love. Hard for me, because a lot of me is sadness, disappointment with myself, and a selfish need to be accepted as I am. Sure, again it is about me, please tell me what it is supposed to be about if this is so wrong. When I think of the first divorce, Wilmington part one, shortly after college, yes, I admit it, I was a freak. You K's, you were in love, or whatever you were, I am not trying to make light of it here, and I was excluded, and, of course, it hurt. I never expected myself to be a part of this love. It was never about that. But I did want to help write the screenplay. I wanted to go out too and I did not know anyone at first and I was quite freaked out with the whole post college experience. I was a virgin at the time, so the day and night love noises, I worked graveyard shift, were unsettling because I pretended to sleep while I was so mad at myself for my heart beating out of my chest. Again, looking at this now, slut that I have been since, I do realize how silly I was then. It was natural for the K's to push me away. I had that same feeling then that I often fall into the despair of now and again and again. The feeling that I am never going to fit anywhere I want to fit so I guess I am left with just little old me once again. God, I am so naive and I always have been. I am such an overly emotional little bird that has no grasp on how to react honestly on site. No, I am not blocking it out, I just do not know how I feel about "heavy words that were so lightly thrown" until a few paragraphs into my speaker's discourse. I should have left sooner. I should have spoken up for myself. I should not have waited for K's final comment "You should blame your father, for letting you talk like a girl". I realize now K, of course, that you had your own agenda, you even told me. You said you did not care what I did. You were in love or what
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