37.2 C le Matin

It's getting really hot here, it's a heatwave, and there's no crossbreeze and it never lets up and I've been sort of sick or something for ages now and it might be the heat. And it's humid too.

It feels like India.

I've been to India.

And I have no A/C.

My show on Tuesday was awesome, though I felt like I was sick and dying, it went really awesome cuz Lena's friend brought an awesome keyboard, and there was a big crowd, and it was taped, and a bunch of people were there I didn't expect...

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I had all these weird dreams.

1. Naima was being really weird I was stopping at her house to pick up my stuff and trying to explain to her why she was being weird, and wrap all these packages into one box...

2. Her house was atop these weird hills like a video game, I was driving around it.

3. Some reality show and it was about these three golddigger girls that just wanted to be rich and Naima was complaining to me she'd been having a hard time because one of them moved into the rich kid's apartment next to her and was having the whole thing expanded and there was construction all the time.

4. We were at a pool party and they thought I was going to be at my old friend from grade school's birthday instead.

5. We went to see a concert, and the band was this guy and girl who always dressed in like, Louis XIV style full royal court clothes....

P.S. This blog title is the original French title of one of my favorite movies, Betty Blue, which is also the name of the potential love interest of the ever captivating and heartthrobbed Tuesday Kid.


It also just really is that hot.

Sober, Somber, Steel

cam is hot. he's really hot. his eyes are huge his eyelashes are incredibly long and curly and he's just super sexy hot. he's tall and model-y but not vain and retarded; he's intelligent and curious about the world, and very sincere and the young little boys just love so much more openly. he has good taste in music. he made me a mix cd tonight.

sometimes his jokes are awkward and i have to pretend to laugh at them. and he doesn't... KNOW... a lot... like, in experience, and my references, he doesn't get my references, he doesn't ask me any questions, which isn't always bad, he is interested in me, and he really respects me, and likes me; he thinks he knows, he infers, but he has no idea. no clue. you know?

but so what.

it's not like he says dumb things, or even really wrong things, or like i have to dumb myself down, and a lot of his opinions are educated, and intelligent and observant, it's just like there are universes he's not even aware of.

but so what.

today i got up... not early... i let myself get some sleep... and me and jo went to macy's to return that crap my neighbor got me. this was like a big thing on my to-do list. i don't think i've ever returned anything in my life. it's just such a pain in the ass. i wanted to go the dmv and the parking place but it's memorial day so it was all closed, but we are going to do it tomorrow, we are, and it will be a huge weight off my shoulders. god, i really- well i'm not gonna beat myself up. basically fear of mortality or something. kept me from taking care of that.

and we worked on some school stuff. obviously not near as much as i need. and then i went home and i talked to carly this old childhood friend and she called me because her sister went through this awful thing, and she's been having this premonition dreams... and carly remembered when we were like 13, 14, and i used to have them, she said "i remember how you used to tell me this stuff, your dreams, and then we'd run into people, from your dreams, and all these things would happen... i didn't know what to say to her about them, but i told her you used to have them, and maybe she should talk to you..." and we talked for like an hour. and then i went to cam's and we're gonna do this show at the galapagos. and it was fun hanging out, and sexy, and his roommates came back and were like sitting around just watching us talk.

his roommate though is now sleeping in the living room because there's like, two other people staying in their little place- cam always ends up living in the clubhouse, like he did on that tv show- so his roommate wanted to go to sleep so i didn't want to stay and cam burned me the cd in silence. i picked up this book they had there, body language for dummies or something, and i flipped through it. it made me think of julian.

seeing him on friday like that. like, sometimes, when we've had these encounters, i get myself trashed and sit at home fantasizing and obsessing, but after friday, it's been opposite. i've been motivated. to take care of myself for a change. to ask friends for help. and go to work, and be around people, and get my shit done. maybe it's just that enough is enough and i can't anymore, because if i do, i will literally end up on the street or in a nuthouse or just blowing everything and while i often cut out before things get too intense, too good, before i finish anything or really GO anywhere with it... i also don't just let myself go, ever. i don't just fuck everything up. i don't let myself get dicked around. i'm not going to anymore. if that's what's going on. it's not happening anymore. i don't care, what it means.

i have to write a FIVE page psychology paper by tomorrow at seven. i don't know how i'll do it. i asked cam if he would and he said he would and i think he totally would but it's so stupid and specific for this class i'd be doing it with him, but, maybe that's what i should do, because there are certain things i can't do unless someone is there plodding me along.

but it's NOT that i lack discipline. because there's nobody, telling me what to do, in life, i don't have to answer to anyone, and i haven't, for so long. for like.. ten years.. since i was a CHILD.. and.. i need someone plodding me along sometimes, but i have to recognize that i need someone plodding me along, and when, and how much, and i have to find someone who's willing, and i have to ask them. and to do it. and not because there are any consequences. because when you ask someone, they're doing it as a favor, and if you tell them "oh nah i'm not gonna today" they're not gonna do anything, except probably stop asking and never do it again... so it's like... i still have to make myself do it. i just need to ask someone to be there.

and none of it's easy.

i'm tired and can't sleep, and i feel like crying, i can't eat, i don't feel like smoking a cigarette or drinking. i should write this paper but i'm so tired and i've been so tired all day and... well.. i'll do what i gotta do.

d

Writing as changing the course...

Writing as magic... as the power to manifest destiny.

I've had some great suggestions from many of you to make this into a book, and one offered the added bonus that I can have it end how I like. And I've realized, that everything I wrote became something real, and everything real became something I wrote, and that, I've always been able to MANIFEST... when I dream of things happening they do... that's how I've done all this stuff... but I'm not... I'm a mess and I'm spacey and flighty and have in the past wanted some pretty dark things, and to be in some pretty bad situations, and with the good things I only wanted a taste... not to follow through and do the work... so... you know it doesn't become... but... that's the thing...

The wise thing to do right now, would be to write this blog, as if it's really happening, but to write what I want to happen instead. And then it will. Then I'll do it.

I just... I don't know what I want... I don't like to plan and... I don't know if it's the right time-- as I'm composing this symphony, for triumphant horns, cymbals, strings, for clearly the last movement, or for the diminuendo, the flutes, the quiet, relaxing pastoral movement.

So I just don't know???

Letter to Julian, wee hours Monday morning:

OMG would you ever do one of those charities like make-a-wish? If it weren't for kids, but for like early 20s wannabe artists, and I made a wish to go to viet cafe with you and then take a walk and look up at the nonstars and the cypress trees and then jump in reservoir for a free3ing cold swim so i would have to cling onto you arms around your neck for warmth while everything was lit kind of orange by the summermoon and light pollution and a car drove by playing Til Tuesday and I could bite your neck really really really lightly, sort of hard maybe... it's part of the wish... and then... well in my dream I started running to your car, and I was pointing out the constellations, that I figured out the formula for the stars, and you said if you can visuali3e the distance between them any time you're in room, if you can place the stars on all the objects, then you can manifest anything and you can change the world... and you were standing on the grass and when you moved the grass you were standing on I knelt down on it and the grass was moving it was swishing back and forth in rhythm with the twinkling of the stars, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1, 1, 2-3-1, 1, 1...

The Psychic and the Psychologist

Yesterday, I didn't get to touch him.

But I brought up the psychic thing. We were talking about my mom... I was, I mean. He was silent mostly and I laid on the couch looking up not at him and I just let all sorts of things spill out, viscera floorwards, but poetic, wistful, funny... He was kind of mesmerized... I turned around at one point and he was watching and I said What??? And he said What?? And I said, You were... looking at me like I just came crashing into your office from the moon... and he said, Oh, no, not at all...

And then I said... I know you don't believe in them. But I do and I take some comfort in... communication with... spirits... Like my dreams about her... But they're never...

"So, you enjoy these dreams that you feel are- you enjoy communicating with your mother?"

"Well, no, because they've never been good." I looked at him. "It's always like I'm panicked, I'm asking myself, what the fuck happened, didn't she die?? When was that? Did I tell everyone she was dead? Like, she's often not there, but her presence is there, but it's, it's dread, I'm in the basement of my old house and there are canvases everywhere, and they're charred..." I sat up and hugged my knees. "And then there was one where she was sitting on, we had this big yard you know, with a, a patio, and she was sitting on the patio with her feet on the grass in a nightgown and, she said, Don't you know? Don't you know I'm dead? Touch my face," and I put my hand on my cheek, "See how it's cold?" Julian kind of nodded, slowly.

"I knoooow, they're just manifestations of my own uncertainties, my emotions, constructions of my mind, right, yes, and all that shit. I know." He didn't say anything.

"Whatever they are, explained or unexplained. Magic is just a matter of semantics. I'm sure I sound like every walk-in wacko. But. So it goes." I laughed. I wasn't looking at him.

"I have predictive dreams too." I looked at him and half-smiled. "Crazy, right?"

He half-smiled.