Being that it's only my second day off TMF, I decided to go for a run. It's 3 30 now, and it was like midnight, and I was uncharacteristically sleepy and debating, nice to go to bed at a reasonable hour but during the weeks of TMF I didn't go running at all (though i did manage to go to a shit ton of really intense dance classes and work, at the beginning) and I had a feeling once I fell asleep the Kicks would come courtesy of the Cold Bird. The DTs make your legs jerk around cuz they haven't been moving and there's no more TMF calming their nerves so even if you're so tired in your head you can hardly keep em open your legs and arms will thrash around in revolt and you'll be left, sleepless, sweaty, and and angry.
Plus I wanna keep the youthful bloom in me as long as possible and this city has definitely made its attempts to take it away from me, and this city has definitely made me feel that at 4.5 and 20, being closer to 30 than 18, I am definitely in danger of losing the aforementioned bloom any morning.
I've had dreams where I wake up with hideous lines and marks on my face, and then I wake up, and they're really there, and then I wake up again.
But I ran, now it's late, but it's ok, I don't have to get up early.
I'll feel better tomorrow.
Anyone get a seriously bad crash after dancing or running? like the runner's high and then a crash like a drug crash? i get really sad when it's time to go back in the doma...
I wonder if I'll tell J if I move. I wonder if I'll send him postcards from my roadtrip to Tennessee. Or from onwards to Ohio. (With a stop at you Kitty, for sure.) Or possibly onwards to New York.
And I wonder if I'll amble down to Table Top in 2 weeks and try to run into him there.
BUT NO MORE WRITING.
I will be writing more, k?
Cuz no more words for Julian. No more. No more.
Love you guys.
Showing posts with label letters to julian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label letters to julian. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
DRUG LABEL: WARNING: Do not feed the animals.
It's so tempting to go purchase and ingest a large quantity of drugs right now.
So tempting yet not tempting at all.
That's what I've been doing, for the past couple weeks, if we're gonna call a spade a spade here.
I don't even like drugs of any kind. I just didn't know what else to do with myself. Horrific timing as always, making the noggin' null and void right before a bargeful of shows, the onslaught of school, right at the very moment in life to buck the fuck up, right when right now truly calls from some grace...
Right at the moment I'm drooling over a cigarette typing in tongues.
Ugh.
Gross.
But, no one has to know about this, because I kept my own personal ass pretty much entirely in the doma. No Sid to my fucking Nancy.
The headmath just kinda went something like this-- "Well," it went, "Well! You're not gonna be able to talk to him for a few months, and this is gonna put you out for at least a day or two..."
Wrong.
The stuff, well first of all it made me write him. Like, the Devil LITERALLY made me do it.
And it made me sit and think and wank and cry about him all by my lonesome for COUNTLESS fucking hours...
And then the Killyourself factor significantly spiked, when it wore off.
And it's not even fun.
Who LIKES that shit???
And now, here I am, 80 bucks leaner, two-weeks older, none-the-wiser, and really, no closer to the expiry date of Significant Time passage as I HAVE been communicating, and rather hysterically, at that.
Well. All very good for the art. But seriously. No more. Totally gross. Ugh.
So tempting yet not tempting at all.
That's what I've been doing, for the past couple weeks, if we're gonna call a spade a spade here.
I don't even like drugs of any kind. I just didn't know what else to do with myself. Horrific timing as always, making the noggin' null and void right before a bargeful of shows, the onslaught of school, right at the very moment in life to buck the fuck up, right when right now truly calls from some grace...
Right at the moment I'm drooling over a cigarette typing in tongues.
Ugh.
Gross.
But, no one has to know about this, because I kept my own personal ass pretty much entirely in the doma. No Sid to my fucking Nancy.
The headmath just kinda went something like this-- "Well," it went, "Well! You're not gonna be able to talk to him for a few months, and this is gonna put you out for at least a day or two..."
Wrong.
The stuff, well first of all it made me write him. Like, the Devil LITERALLY made me do it.
And it made me sit and think and wank and cry about him all by my lonesome for COUNTLESS fucking hours...
And then the Killyourself factor significantly spiked, when it wore off.
And it's not even fun.
Who LIKES that shit???
And now, here I am, 80 bucks leaner, two-weeks older, none-the-wiser, and really, no closer to the expiry date of Significant Time passage as I HAVE been communicating, and rather hysterically, at that.
Well. All very good for the art. But seriously. No more. Totally gross. Ugh.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
all beauty is cruel
here's what it is.
now that ive drugged myself into some numb stupor i'm giving you the benefit of advance warning, as i always do, so that you can come prepared with your explanations. don't know why i do this. i just cant help spilling i suppose. to you. to other people, i manage to keep my mouth relatively shut, examples as follows:
today i was talking to a person, about people in hollywood talking about movies, and said something about "the place next door to my shrink". this person said, "oh you go to a therapist next door?" i said "well yeah i go to therapist but i meant this coffee place there not next door to here" and they said "oh cuz im looking for one close by" i said "oh well its pretty close its down near broad street in ridgeway" and they said "oh, do you see julian darcy?" and i said, "yeah!" and they said "oh i went to him for a while!" and i said oh yeah, he's great, and they said yeah, he's very intelligent and he's beautiful, and i of course agreed, enthusiastically, and i said yeah i'm sort of head over for him-- keeping it really light-- and they said, aw, really? and i said OH yeah. and they said well stop seeing him as a therapist and date him! and i said yeah right he's married with children. again, this was all very light. the person said, he's not married. i said yeah, he is, the person said, no, i asked him, he said he was like single... unless it was in the last, like, couple years...
i said- out of some (perhaps unwarranted) loyalty and respect for you-- oh yeah it was really recently he had a child. and they said oh ok, so he met someone and got married wow.
so that was that. you can imagine julian. how i must feel right now. out of some loyalty and respect for you, and characteristic disrespect for myself, i'm telling myself you told me this, to try to get me to get over you. instead of just telling me whatever the truth is. or maybe you tell other people, you don't tell them about your family, to protect them? but it seems a little extreme. this person is not tony soprano, or a serial killer.
why would you lie to me about this? why would... it's really very insulting if you did that. it's really, really insulting. it's condescending. you really think it was something to protect my feelings or help me some how? that you would have to lie to me? how can i trust you now? what are you doing, what are you thinking, what's going on in that head of yours. i don't know you at all. i don't know who you are.
even before this totally random (and yet formally perfect, as in the PERFECT FUCKING SHAPE) i started thinking, i really can't be your patient anymore. i can't do it. i love you, and i want you, and i don't want you to pretend to be this objective witness/soundingboard/hotline anymore, and i dont, deep down, believe that it's completely one-sided, it just does not feel that way, and there are so many innuendos and so much subtext and when i tell you that and you just blatantly look me in the eye and deny that, it is insulting, and it is reckless, and it is hurtful. and i cant see it as excusable unless you have some EMOTION toward me too. if you dont, and you are completely coolly and carelessly toying with my head because you find it amusing, unaware of the hurt you will ultimately cause, you are a selfish and thoughtless person and everything i thought about you is wrong.
but i realized, a litte ways into this little vacation of yours, that i cannot see you as a therapist. it reduces my life to two hours a week. that i'm paying money for. and not getting anything in return. it feels like i am, but i'm not. you have helped me with things, you really did for a while, and for a while it's just been me wanting to see you, because i dont want to lose you. because im so afraid of losing you. but i cant go on like this.
if you really as you say just have no interest in knowing me, outside of that room, then i guess i will have to swallow that fucking bullet, better now than later. better now than later. my life is on standstill.
you know. you've probably known for a while, how hard and far i have FALLEN for you. maybe you dont. maybe you think i'm also just playing around like you are. for some distraction.
I DONT KNOW.
I DONT KNOW WHAT YOUR FUCKING STORY IS JULIAN
but you better explain it to me. if you have any shred of decency, or respect for me, or compassion, you better explain it to me, and you better not lie to my face-- if you were lying about your marriage, or your family, just tell me flat out, give me your reasons, i will accept them, you know, i think so highly of you, i adore you, and at least i thought i understood you, so i really will understand-- and if you just thought it would hurt my feelings to say you aren't attracted to me or interested in me then SAY IT.
god, i am not stupid. i am not stupid. i notice the caution you've used with your words. i know there are certain things you cannot say. i know when you're being ambiguous. i know there are certain things you HAVENT said. and there are certain 6th sense sort of visions " " (yeah i'm a fucking crazy moron, shoot me, and fuck yourself) i have about you- your personal life- your family situation. and at the risk of sounding HAUGHTY to use your word, or narcissistic, i mean WHAT A FUCKING FOOL, how i PUT MYSELF on the fucking LEDGE for you??? how much i have been a FOOL over you, for you, risked every shred of dignity for you??? and this is how, rather, this is how you DONT reciprocate?
so i am NOT a narcissist. i know i have HUMILITY. and i used to have GRACE. and now i don't know WHERE that's gone. but at the risk of sounding narcissistic, i KNOW you are attracted to me, i know you LET me know that, i know at one point you didnt, and then you did, and then you didnt, and there are unsaid understandings between us, and normally when i mention them in the emails, the next time i see you you act like a complete cold, distant asshole, as if to rid me of any confidence i have that there's ANYTHING mutual, and i'm SICK of it. i've had just about enough. i KNOW that i play these games with you, and i KNOW that you play them with me. and i know that youve never done or said anything- because youre very clever- that could ever definitely, without a doubt, make me sure. and fuck, i'll be honest, it's hot, i admire, and am extremely turned on, by how clever you are. and the fact that every time i go out on a limb like this, i have to think, god, if i'm wrong, i am SUCH an asshole, and god, of course i'm wrong, and god, i am SUCH an asshole, and then I START BEATING MYSELF TO A BLOODY PULP over it, how delusional, and stupid, and unattractive, and ridiculous i am.
IS THAT WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT
you're not stupid either. you play dumb sometimes dont you. you cant tell me, that you do not know, the effect you have on me, the provocative things you say, all the teases, all the teases, my god, even as im furious crying typing this tome, writing that-- "teases", thinking about your TEASING, makes me fucking just (@)*#$ need to take a break with a curling iron and a cold shower-- i really-- i need to stop writing right now.
you know
ok
so the only thing i cant figure out. the only thing i really dont know. is your motivation.
are you just, going along for kicks. teasing me to spice things up for yourself and keep me hanging all over you. careless and thoughtless as to how it will end? just not thinking that far ahead?
if i leave, will you care, if i leave, which i will, if i leave you as a patient will you leave me as a person. if i stop paying you. is it over. this great connection. is it all just fucking over. fucking over. will you never %$*@ me into sanity. i need it. but whatever. you dont like that, you dont like that kind of talk, i dont either, but by god, at this point. by fucking god.
and theres only a certain amount of ignorance you can plausibly plead. because you do know me, even if i know nothing of you. you know my obsessive brain. you know that i've thought this through. you know that i've considered that maybe, i just need the confidence to walk out your fucking door, in order to be in your life. and that im also terribly afraid that walking out your door is walking out of your life. because that is the implication, isnt it. "but this IS therapy, that's what this IS" you said once. yeah. but ive thought that. and i want it. whatever it means. whether it means, once, or twice, or just meeting you for a coffee at some dumpy dingy place where no one will see us or walking down Central Park South with my arm around your waist, whether it means hanging around waiting for you the way i am right now, with the same strict, minimal schedule, or not, i want it, i want it, i want YOU, i dont want to be sitting at a distance and FUCKING PAYING YOU like the idiots at the CLUB pay ME to talk to to me for 20 minutes. and that despite everything you said, oh forget it. forget it.
and you? haven't thought this out at all? or do you think you know me so well by now that you know i can take all your careless playing and still be fine, take another huge disappointment, take being carved in half and walk upright. and no, dear, no. you are NOT, you are NOT helping me find a future relationship. you are NOT, showing me what it CAN be like for next time. because there will never be this again. there is no other you, there is no other now, there is no next time, there is no fucking tuesday.
and furthermore, after experiencing, YOU, experiencing, our conversations, our connection, and haven't end in the worst fucking pain, the blinding fucking pain of right now, I don't think I will want anything like it. i think after being built up and torn down by you, being made to believe for CERTAIN that i'm delusional, seeing the angel become the devil before my eyes, seeing that,
all beauty is cruel
all beauty is cruel
all beauty is cruel
that's what i will KNOW in my body to be true, if i walk out your door as you nod and say nothing, and nothing, and nothing to me ever again
and MAYBE you told me your story------- now maybe you told me your story to prepare me for being so hurt that i will call down the quarters and the guardians of the watchtowers and invoke the spirit and wish upon the universe to bring you harm.
maybe you wanted me to know thats how this will end.
but it wont julian. i dont think it will end right now at all. i really dont in my heart of hearts believe it.
and if it does, i will walkaround jawdropped at your cruelty, but i will understand, because i'm sure i have been unintentionally cruel. i know i have. and i know im forgiven because to them i am beautiful, and that seems to be enough. and to me you are beautiful, and that seems to be enough. and i will never wish you harm. every moment of every day i wish nothing but good for you and you should KNOW that and you should FEEL that and you should be THANKFUL for that. because i also know how to destroy. but i do not destroy people, everyone whom i have hurt somehow has come out stronger, and the only person i destroy is myself. and you saw that very early on. and it's sad to me and i want to be kind to myself like you told me to. and you told me to be kind to myself. and i will always love you. and you have taught me a lot. and i know that my love for you is beautiful, and that its mine, and you cant take it away from me. but perhaps all this teaching has caused the soul to learn away a lot of its joy.
maybe when i see you on friday you will stonewall me, mock me, lie to me, slap me in the face. and maybe i will lock eyes with you and melt, melt in your radiance, but i will solidify I HAVE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH and Julian, WE WILL TALK ABOUT THIS. and i am not asking you for anything. you say, whatever the fuck you want to say. you always do anyway.
so now are you starting to see the shapes? are you starting to see the shape of things to come? the way they always fit so perfectly right? you were away and i was alone and i was sad and sad and sad and i was excited for you to come back and you would have come back and WHAT. i would have sat there, blushing and giggling and crying as you teased me or ignored me or shared just enough of yourself to wake my sleeping heart? no. no, no, that would be shapeless. that would be utterly lacking in form. to walk, two days before your return, into a relative stranger and find out that maybe-- to be jolted awake by that instead?
that's formal.
that's shapely.
whatever you do you know that you are the only person i've ever been able to share this with, and that without that, without you, without you, without you now, here, out here, out here after having that and after, right after, right after the last time i saw you i thought i have shared it all with someone now---and he glows gold onto every corner of my mind and i...
do you see colors julian
tell me
tell me when you see me please
if im still red and white and violet
if i still glow at all
now that ive drugged myself into some numb stupor i'm giving you the benefit of advance warning, as i always do, so that you can come prepared with your explanations. don't know why i do this. i just cant help spilling i suppose. to you. to other people, i manage to keep my mouth relatively shut, examples as follows:
today i was talking to a person, about people in hollywood talking about movies, and said something about "the place next door to my shrink". this person said, "oh you go to a therapist next door?" i said "well yeah i go to therapist but i meant this coffee place there not next door to here" and they said "oh cuz im looking for one close by" i said "oh well its pretty close its down near broad street in ridgeway" and they said "oh, do you see julian darcy?" and i said, "yeah!" and they said "oh i went to him for a while!" and i said oh yeah, he's great, and they said yeah, he's very intelligent and he's beautiful, and i of course agreed, enthusiastically, and i said yeah i'm sort of head over for him-- keeping it really light-- and they said, aw, really? and i said OH yeah. and they said well stop seeing him as a therapist and date him! and i said yeah right he's married with children. again, this was all very light. the person said, he's not married. i said yeah, he is, the person said, no, i asked him, he said he was like single... unless it was in the last, like, couple years...
i said- out of some (perhaps unwarranted) loyalty and respect for you-- oh yeah it was really recently he had a child. and they said oh ok, so he met someone and got married wow.
so that was that. you can imagine julian. how i must feel right now. out of some loyalty and respect for you, and characteristic disrespect for myself, i'm telling myself you told me this, to try to get me to get over you. instead of just telling me whatever the truth is. or maybe you tell other people, you don't tell them about your family, to protect them? but it seems a little extreme. this person is not tony soprano, or a serial killer.
why would you lie to me about this? why would... it's really very insulting if you did that. it's really, really insulting. it's condescending. you really think it was something to protect my feelings or help me some how? that you would have to lie to me? how can i trust you now? what are you doing, what are you thinking, what's going on in that head of yours. i don't know you at all. i don't know who you are.
even before this totally random (and yet formally perfect, as in the PERFECT FUCKING SHAPE) i started thinking, i really can't be your patient anymore. i can't do it. i love you, and i want you, and i don't want you to pretend to be this objective witness/soundingboard/hotline anymore, and i dont, deep down, believe that it's completely one-sided, it just does not feel that way, and there are so many innuendos and so much subtext and when i tell you that and you just blatantly look me in the eye and deny that, it is insulting, and it is reckless, and it is hurtful. and i cant see it as excusable unless you have some EMOTION toward me too. if you dont, and you are completely coolly and carelessly toying with my head because you find it amusing, unaware of the hurt you will ultimately cause, you are a selfish and thoughtless person and everything i thought about you is wrong.
but i realized, a litte ways into this little vacation of yours, that i cannot see you as a therapist. it reduces my life to two hours a week. that i'm paying money for. and not getting anything in return. it feels like i am, but i'm not. you have helped me with things, you really did for a while, and for a while it's just been me wanting to see you, because i dont want to lose you. because im so afraid of losing you. but i cant go on like this.
if you really as you say just have no interest in knowing me, outside of that room, then i guess i will have to swallow that fucking bullet, better now than later. better now than later. my life is on standstill.
you know. you've probably known for a while, how hard and far i have FALLEN for you. maybe you dont. maybe you think i'm also just playing around like you are. for some distraction.
I DONT KNOW.
I DONT KNOW WHAT YOUR FUCKING STORY IS JULIAN
but you better explain it to me. if you have any shred of decency, or respect for me, or compassion, you better explain it to me, and you better not lie to my face-- if you were lying about your marriage, or your family, just tell me flat out, give me your reasons, i will accept them, you know, i think so highly of you, i adore you, and at least i thought i understood you, so i really will understand-- and if you just thought it would hurt my feelings to say you aren't attracted to me or interested in me then SAY IT.
god, i am not stupid. i am not stupid. i notice the caution you've used with your words. i know there are certain things you cannot say. i know when you're being ambiguous. i know there are certain things you HAVENT said. and there are certain 6th sense sort of visions " " (yeah i'm a fucking crazy moron, shoot me, and fuck yourself) i have about you- your personal life- your family situation. and at the risk of sounding HAUGHTY to use your word, or narcissistic, i mean WHAT A FUCKING FOOL, how i PUT MYSELF on the fucking LEDGE for you??? how much i have been a FOOL over you, for you, risked every shred of dignity for you??? and this is how, rather, this is how you DONT reciprocate?
so i am NOT a narcissist. i know i have HUMILITY. and i used to have GRACE. and now i don't know WHERE that's gone. but at the risk of sounding narcissistic, i KNOW you are attracted to me, i know you LET me know that, i know at one point you didnt, and then you did, and then you didnt, and there are unsaid understandings between us, and normally when i mention them in the emails, the next time i see you you act like a complete cold, distant asshole, as if to rid me of any confidence i have that there's ANYTHING mutual, and i'm SICK of it. i've had just about enough. i KNOW that i play these games with you, and i KNOW that you play them with me. and i know that youve never done or said anything- because youre very clever- that could ever definitely, without a doubt, make me sure. and fuck, i'll be honest, it's hot, i admire, and am extremely turned on, by how clever you are. and the fact that every time i go out on a limb like this, i have to think, god, if i'm wrong, i am SUCH an asshole, and god, of course i'm wrong, and god, i am SUCH an asshole, and then I START BEATING MYSELF TO A BLOODY PULP over it, how delusional, and stupid, and unattractive, and ridiculous i am.
IS THAT WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT
you're not stupid either. you play dumb sometimes dont you. you cant tell me, that you do not know, the effect you have on me, the provocative things you say, all the teases, all the teases, my god, even as im furious crying typing this tome, writing that-- "teases", thinking about your TEASING, makes me fucking just (@)*#$ need to take a break with a curling iron and a cold shower-- i really-- i need to stop writing right now.
you know
ok
so the only thing i cant figure out. the only thing i really dont know. is your motivation.
are you just, going along for kicks. teasing me to spice things up for yourself and keep me hanging all over you. careless and thoughtless as to how it will end? just not thinking that far ahead?
if i leave, will you care, if i leave, which i will, if i leave you as a patient will you leave me as a person. if i stop paying you. is it over. this great connection. is it all just fucking over. fucking over. will you never %$*@ me into sanity. i need it. but whatever. you dont like that, you dont like that kind of talk, i dont either, but by god, at this point. by fucking god.
and theres only a certain amount of ignorance you can plausibly plead. because you do know me, even if i know nothing of you. you know my obsessive brain. you know that i've thought this through. you know that i've considered that maybe, i just need the confidence to walk out your fucking door, in order to be in your life. and that im also terribly afraid that walking out your door is walking out of your life. because that is the implication, isnt it. "but this IS therapy, that's what this IS" you said once. yeah. but ive thought that. and i want it. whatever it means. whether it means, once, or twice, or just meeting you for a coffee at some dumpy dingy place where no one will see us or walking down Central Park South with my arm around your waist, whether it means hanging around waiting for you the way i am right now, with the same strict, minimal schedule, or not, i want it, i want it, i want YOU, i dont want to be sitting at a distance and FUCKING PAYING YOU like the idiots at the CLUB pay ME to talk to to me for 20 minutes. and that despite everything you said, oh forget it. forget it.
and you? haven't thought this out at all? or do you think you know me so well by now that you know i can take all your careless playing and still be fine, take another huge disappointment, take being carved in half and walk upright. and no, dear, no. you are NOT, you are NOT helping me find a future relationship. you are NOT, showing me what it CAN be like for next time. because there will never be this again. there is no other you, there is no other now, there is no next time, there is no fucking tuesday.
and furthermore, after experiencing, YOU, experiencing, our conversations, our connection, and haven't end in the worst fucking pain, the blinding fucking pain of right now, I don't think I will want anything like it. i think after being built up and torn down by you, being made to believe for CERTAIN that i'm delusional, seeing the angel become the devil before my eyes, seeing that,
all beauty is cruel
all beauty is cruel
all beauty is cruel
that's what i will KNOW in my body to be true, if i walk out your door as you nod and say nothing, and nothing, and nothing to me ever again
and MAYBE you told me your story------- now maybe you told me your story to prepare me for being so hurt that i will call down the quarters and the guardians of the watchtowers and invoke the spirit and wish upon the universe to bring you harm.
maybe you wanted me to know thats how this will end.
but it wont julian. i dont think it will end right now at all. i really dont in my heart of hearts believe it.
and if it does, i will walkaround jawdropped at your cruelty, but i will understand, because i'm sure i have been unintentionally cruel. i know i have. and i know im forgiven because to them i am beautiful, and that seems to be enough. and to me you are beautiful, and that seems to be enough. and i will never wish you harm. every moment of every day i wish nothing but good for you and you should KNOW that and you should FEEL that and you should be THANKFUL for that. because i also know how to destroy. but i do not destroy people, everyone whom i have hurt somehow has come out stronger, and the only person i destroy is myself. and you saw that very early on. and it's sad to me and i want to be kind to myself like you told me to. and you told me to be kind to myself. and i will always love you. and you have taught me a lot. and i know that my love for you is beautiful, and that its mine, and you cant take it away from me. but perhaps all this teaching has caused the soul to learn away a lot of its joy.
maybe when i see you on friday you will stonewall me, mock me, lie to me, slap me in the face. and maybe i will lock eyes with you and melt, melt in your radiance, but i will solidify I HAVE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH and Julian, WE WILL TALK ABOUT THIS. and i am not asking you for anything. you say, whatever the fuck you want to say. you always do anyway.
so now are you starting to see the shapes? are you starting to see the shape of things to come? the way they always fit so perfectly right? you were away and i was alone and i was sad and sad and sad and i was excited for you to come back and you would have come back and WHAT. i would have sat there, blushing and giggling and crying as you teased me or ignored me or shared just enough of yourself to wake my sleeping heart? no. no, no, that would be shapeless. that would be utterly lacking in form. to walk, two days before your return, into a relative stranger and find out that maybe-- to be jolted awake by that instead?
that's formal.
that's shapely.
whatever you do you know that you are the only person i've ever been able to share this with, and that without that, without you, without you, without you now, here, out here, out here after having that and after, right after, right after the last time i saw you i thought i have shared it all with someone now---and he glows gold onto every corner of my mind and i...
do you see colors julian
tell me
tell me when you see me please
if im still red and white and violet
if i still glow at all
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Where the words went.
Here's what I'm gonna post cuz here's where I've been writing. They're letters to. Obviously. But no-- it's not like that, because I haven't sent a single one... I think maybe... it's just easier writing to him because I know he rabidly reads and because I'm trying to seduce him or engage with him or whatever the hell I've been trying to do... But these are the words I want to put here... So... I'm gonna just post like, what I wrote him each day, starting the Saturday before last and... it'll just be like... it's my pretty much my damn journal anyway.
He told me I could write to him... He told me instead of thinking about the conversations we're not going to have, to think about the ones we've had... He told me I should take an hour out, twice a week, whenever we would and get away from everything and just think and write and he said I could probably imagine what he'd say anyway....
Conversations+Revelations with Julian
Day 2 of 20*: 'Nother No Good Horrible Very Bad Day
*the math genius here really could not understand how exactly 20 days apart could become exactly three weeks-- 21 days apart-- before realizing that, like with scales, the last note of a scale acts as the first note of the next. So that last Friday doesn't count.
So I was freaking out in the shower because I'd left the front door open a crack for ventilation and I couldn't see Madeline and I was thinking it's UNLIKELY but maybe she'd jumped out and I'd have to go looking for her and I was thinking I'd probably want to write you this because it would be an awful scare--
Ugh, Jare's coming over in a minute with vicodin-- but I'm gonna tell him I have to finish writing this first-- and I was just thinking, it's a damn shame I told him to come over before I started writing you and feeling better.
But anyway, I thought, I wouldnt wanna tell anyone else about the Madeline thing I mean why, why bother, I just don't care for anyone to know, but I'd wanna tell you, and I'd tell you, and youd probably tell me something funny, about what she was thinking when she ran out, and you'd PROBABLY, you'd probably CONNECT it to something we'd talked about before-- like I mentioned these neighbors now-- you'd probably make some joke connecting Madeline to the neighbors, that would simultaneously deflate the stress of both situations-- and make me feel understood, because you remember things, you remember people's things you remember everything. Is that a technique psychologists learn for therapy, or is that just how you talk?... If only everyone spoke like that, so sharp and quick and with it, obviously present and understanding and really hot and sexy and thoughtful and not just half asleep glancing over at the TV...
This is what you do, Jul, when you talk, when you talk to me, when we talk to each other, you make connections all the time. It's beautiful, it's structure... And you know, how my biggest fear in life, really, the biggest Issue, is that nothing is connected to anything else kinda... Nothing's really tied together... I mean, I know there aren't that many people walking around or into your office plagued with Fear and Trembling over Nothing is connected to anything else, so, this can be simplified, depersonalized, universalized, sophomoricated, for psychological and sociological consistency, we're all in the same boat like, to the existential crisis of Meaning and Why Am I Here and even just plain old Fear of Mortality. Does it every time. I mean, I'm like, WHY do that, what's the purpose, it's like Freudian dream analysis, ok, nothing's special we all just wish we had a dick, right?
But if we're gonna simplify, then this is MY simplification: You connect everything when we talk, when I don't talk to you I sometimes feel disconnected, this connection thing boils down to meaning, which boils down to value, in this big ol bunsen burner you science people use, so, my equation becomes, therefore, ergo: With you life has meaning--> Life has no meaning without you.
He told me I could write to him... He told me instead of thinking about the conversations we're not going to have, to think about the ones we've had... He told me I should take an hour out, twice a week, whenever we would and get away from everything and just think and write and he said I could probably imagine what he'd say anyway....
Conversations+Revelations with Julian
Day 2 of 20*: 'Nother No Good Horrible Very Bad Day
*the math genius here really could not understand how exactly 20 days apart could become exactly three weeks-- 21 days apart-- before realizing that, like with scales, the last note of a scale acts as the first note of the next. So that last Friday doesn't count.
So I was freaking out in the shower because I'd left the front door open a crack for ventilation and I couldn't see Madeline and I was thinking it's UNLIKELY but maybe she'd jumped out and I'd have to go looking for her and I was thinking I'd probably want to write you this because it would be an awful scare--
Ugh, Jare's coming over in a minute with vicodin-- but I'm gonna tell him I have to finish writing this first-- and I was just thinking, it's a damn shame I told him to come over before I started writing you and feeling better.
But anyway, I thought, I wouldnt wanna tell anyone else about the Madeline thing I mean why, why bother, I just don't care for anyone to know, but I'd wanna tell you, and I'd tell you, and youd probably tell me something funny, about what she was thinking when she ran out, and you'd PROBABLY, you'd probably CONNECT it to something we'd talked about before-- like I mentioned these neighbors now-- you'd probably make some joke connecting Madeline to the neighbors, that would simultaneously deflate the stress of both situations-- and make me feel understood, because you remember things, you remember people's things you remember everything. Is that a technique psychologists learn for therapy, or is that just how you talk?... If only everyone spoke like that, so sharp and quick and with it, obviously present and understanding and really hot and sexy and thoughtful and not just half asleep glancing over at the TV...
This is what you do, Jul, when you talk, when you talk to me, when we talk to each other, you make connections all the time. It's beautiful, it's structure... And you know, how my biggest fear in life, really, the biggest Issue, is that nothing is connected to anything else kinda... Nothing's really tied together... I mean, I know there aren't that many people walking around or into your office plagued with Fear and Trembling over Nothing is connected to anything else, so, this can be simplified, depersonalized, universalized, sophomoricated, for psychological and sociological consistency, we're all in the same boat like, to the existential crisis of Meaning and Why Am I Here and even just plain old Fear of Mortality. Does it every time. I mean, I'm like, WHY do that, what's the purpose, it's like Freudian dream analysis, ok, nothing's special we all just wish we had a dick, right?
But if we're gonna simplify, then this is MY simplification: You connect everything when we talk, when I don't talk to you I sometimes feel disconnected, this connection thing boils down to meaning, which boils down to value, in this big ol bunsen burner you science people use, so, my equation becomes, therefore, ergo: With you life has meaning--> Life has no meaning without you.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Subj:
I wrote him something about Ramanujan... as well as some other stuff... when I got home. I know I said I stopped writing him. I lied. I mean, I did for a while...
It was... about Ramanujan and... other stuff and... I sent him a link to a video of one of my shows someone posted up... and I asked, well, mused, about whether he even received the e-mail... and he responded:
Subj: The woman who knew infinity
Yes I did get this. I can still call you tomorrow if you want. Let me know in the morning.
J
It was... about Ramanujan and... other stuff and... I sent him a link to a video of one of my shows someone posted up... and I asked, well, mused, about whether he even received the e-mail... and he responded:
Subj: The woman who knew infinity
Yes I did get this. I can still call you tomorrow if you want. Let me know in the morning.
J
Friday, July 2, 2010
Bonkers, Brilliant, or Brave?
from another letter to julian, from last night. i saw him today. nothing happened, but, it's always good to see him...
"...but theyre all, these french girls, they just say unexpected things, real things, like i feel like so many people have just canned responses.
so i cant say i blame you jd
Midwestern grown where they grow em tall n pretty, midwest, middle class, but with NYC roots, always felt a little out of place though you always apparently fit in very well? thought your family was kinda weird (well what kid does not as ET says everyone is strange, some are more strange zan ozers), WASP/RC mix like JD salinger style, franny and zooey, new york neurosis and brit repressed emotions and irishcatholic guilt, some storminess, some worldliness in the middle of america, maybe thought your older sibling was a little weird, which made you more self conscious than you seemed, and your family had some issues and you were a little kid and you started observing people's behavior a lot, not consciously.... and you yourself were interested in a bunch of weird esoteric shit hahaha but you always had nice friends. and you were always ambitious. and, like all attractive men, didn't really know you were attractive until girlies started telling you so. and they did. you went to college. people were telling you you're brilliant, and you're special, and girlies telling you you're pretty, and you were like you know what I AM! and im gonna get the F out of here and go live in europe.
and so you did and you came back relaxed and happy and more stylish and more self assured and more impulsive. and still ambitious. and a little arrogant because everything came easy to you. and you were sociable and well spoken and well mannered and attractive and overachieving and outwardly easy-going, you were still always questioning things because you cared about things, and never really stopped questioning yourself because you were always changing philosophies and open to new world views and kept telling yourself you didnt know anything even though other people made you feel like you knew everything.
and there were a lot of girlies, messy personal life, possibly runs in the family, and then you were debating between law school and phd program and law school was kind of tempting cuz you knew youd be good at it and make a lot of money and people were urging you to go, but you didn't wanna wear those damn shoes, and phd program seemed easier, and it meant california, and you always wanted to go there and you played the beachboys in your car but the real reason you chose it was because you started feeling your white light and your truth and your exploration and your curiosity and your wisdom that you had all along but didnt admit it to yourself...
and there you were at Stanford... given privileges and responsibilities only given to the elite group.... lost in the meritocracy... and there was lots of work and there was lots of BS and lots of girlies and you kind of missed your friends in the midwest, surrounded by LA weirdos, and you met this one girlie you really really liked and really fell for and it all seemed perfect and then she turned out to be less than you thought she was, and it haunted you, and you hated her, and you hated everything for a while. and then you met this pretty french girlie and she was really intellectual and totally different and from this good family and it was worldly and stylish and everything you wanted and you were starting to see your career going really well and you were kind of impulsive and you went to france and met her family and you moved in together and you got married and you had kids and you had houses and............
you want to kill me right now dont you.
if all of this is totally wrong, i'm just an idiot, if some of it is right and you think its an insult, youre wrong, because it only seems RELATABLE to me. and because anything i think about you, is never an insult. because you know, i think youre so fucking amazing. so sorry about that, i hope youre not gonna be mean to me tomorrow because of it, please dont, i was just thinking about this... because i think about it. my pills are making my eyelids droop PERFECT its 1 20.
oh i got some money. i always got you J. cuz youre priceless
good night
love
s"
bonkers, brilliant or brave?
"...but theyre all, these french girls, they just say unexpected things, real things, like i feel like so many people have just canned responses.
so i cant say i blame you jd
Midwestern grown where they grow em tall n pretty, midwest, middle class, but with NYC roots, always felt a little out of place though you always apparently fit in very well? thought your family was kinda weird (well what kid does not as ET says everyone is strange, some are more strange zan ozers), WASP/RC mix like JD salinger style, franny and zooey, new york neurosis and brit repressed emotions and irishcatholic guilt, some storminess, some worldliness in the middle of america, maybe thought your older sibling was a little weird, which made you more self conscious than you seemed, and your family had some issues and you were a little kid and you started observing people's behavior a lot, not consciously.... and you yourself were interested in a bunch of weird esoteric shit hahaha but you always had nice friends. and you were always ambitious. and, like all attractive men, didn't really know you were attractive until girlies started telling you so. and they did. you went to college. people were telling you you're brilliant, and you're special, and girlies telling you you're pretty, and you were like you know what I AM! and im gonna get the F out of here and go live in europe.
and so you did and you came back relaxed and happy and more stylish and more self assured and more impulsive. and still ambitious. and a little arrogant because everything came easy to you. and you were sociable and well spoken and well mannered and attractive and overachieving and outwardly easy-going, you were still always questioning things because you cared about things, and never really stopped questioning yourself because you were always changing philosophies and open to new world views and kept telling yourself you didnt know anything even though other people made you feel like you knew everything.
and there were a lot of girlies, messy personal life, possibly runs in the family, and then you were debating between law school and phd program and law school was kind of tempting cuz you knew youd be good at it and make a lot of money and people were urging you to go, but you didn't wanna wear those damn shoes, and phd program seemed easier, and it meant california, and you always wanted to go there and you played the beachboys in your car but the real reason you chose it was because you started feeling your white light and your truth and your exploration and your curiosity and your wisdom that you had all along but didnt admit it to yourself...
and there you were at Stanford... given privileges and responsibilities only given to the elite group.... lost in the meritocracy... and there was lots of work and there was lots of BS and lots of girlies and you kind of missed your friends in the midwest, surrounded by LA weirdos, and you met this one girlie you really really liked and really fell for and it all seemed perfect and then she turned out to be less than you thought she was, and it haunted you, and you hated her, and you hated everything for a while. and then you met this pretty french girlie and she was really intellectual and totally different and from this good family and it was worldly and stylish and everything you wanted and you were starting to see your career going really well and you were kind of impulsive and you went to france and met her family and you moved in together and you got married and you had kids and you had houses and............
you want to kill me right now dont you.
if all of this is totally wrong, i'm just an idiot, if some of it is right and you think its an insult, youre wrong, because it only seems RELATABLE to me. and because anything i think about you, is never an insult. because you know, i think youre so fucking amazing. so sorry about that, i hope youre not gonna be mean to me tomorrow because of it, please dont, i was just thinking about this... because i think about it. my pills are making my eyelids droop PERFECT its 1 20.
oh i got some money. i always got you J. cuz youre priceless
good night
love
s"
bonkers, brilliant or brave?
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Letter to Julian 6.23.10
there is a REALLY long list of things i would do, for 97 minutes of time alone with you to watch Word Wars, this really batshit bonkers documentary about tournament Scrabble players.
i would even NotTouch you, if that were part of the bargain, though I really think you oughtta be leaving work at work, not letting it gatecrash people's dreamscapes. besides they need sleep too you know, these rules, yes, they're tough, but we've seen what exhaustion can do to even the best soldiers... they might give out entirely ... they might start playing for the other side. and i actually really love your rules. i love your rules. i love following them, and you should feel smug. you should if there is any sort of to sense to how people feel about themselves you SHOULD feel smug and GOD BLESS YOU and you're sexy when you're smug but these rules, now, now the thought of having to follow them in the following situation, is giving me the beginnings of an anxiety attack, actually, it's actually not pleasant in any way, but beggars can't. so. for 97 minutes just me and just you and a parquet floor, Word Wars and one quilt and one pillow (we would have to share it, touching or not) and 1 gallon stillvasser, 2 carafes german riesling, picnic:
sandwiches-- portuguese rolls with cream cheese and raspberry jam or
toasted pumpernickel w big dill-y chicken cutlets or sesame bagel with smoked salmon and butter and capers or baguette with prosciutto and olive oil and mozz or cheddar cheese toasted with heirloom tomatoes on english muffins, ww., with salt.
pickles, crispy, crunchy, not like trafficlight green or roar-ange in hue... and carrots- no tray of like broccoli/tomato/ashy-baby-carrot/limp-celery-mourning around a reservoir of ejaculate bluecheese/ranch "dip" bullshit, right?
one ton of blueberries
toblerone or pecan pie
Table Top coffee, for aesthetic symmetry, symbolism.
louise. i am hungry.
we can't do all of that in an hour and a half glued to a screen. wait. i need a week of this... 9 days, seven hours maybe?? um, you just keep watching the credits i'm gonna go over there now and :::under breath::: keep sucking on the spout of whatever genie lamp i got me here in the first place........ NO WISHING FOR MORE WISHES, ALADDIN, al-Hamdil Allah! I'm not, I'm not, I'm just amending... I'm... 9 months, 7 Tuesdays??? 97 million minutes? Kill the No Touching Rule?? PLEASE, DJIN!!!
But in all seriousness Julian. Really reallly. Promise me, unless somehow you already have, that you will not watch that movie without me. Please. I know, that means to you, you'll probably never watch it, well, it's not that big of a loss, okay, is my promise to you, it's just a silly stupid movie... and, you can watch pieces of it, like, read about it, whatever else, just please promise me you won't watch the movie start to finish alone or with anybody else, please... I really mean that. And I'm not going to ask you. Because you'll say no, just on principle, and THAT WOULD MAKE ME SO SAD. I CAN'T EVEN STAND IT. I can'tcan'tcan'tICANT. I don't want to be that sad, what would you tell me, beautiful bww about thoughts like that. You would probably say I should be embracing (or well you wouldn't say embracing, necessarily) the present moment and I'm saying, I am. I am. You always bring it back around to that, so I always think about it, and I do it, and I'm seeing all the beautiful moments. My cat is lying on my feet, There's this good song. I played for a bunch of people tonight and I didn't get any kind of nerves or terror. I still felt irritable afterwards, but... and yes, I did, I needed to hear you saying this again, about everything, okayness of things and organic chemistry and defaults and baseline emotions and the need for the correction and I just can't, in honoring the present moment, take my head out of the golden sand of your island for fearing of being washed away by tide into that cold dark luminous but dark ocean that I love but don't want to swim in alone forever, there is no forever, there is no tomorrow, I don't like it when you talk about nevers and impossibilities, how can you tell me things are impossible and to train my focus on Impossible one minute and only Right Now the next?
i would even NotTouch you, if that were part of the bargain, though I really think you oughtta be leaving work at work, not letting it gatecrash people's dreamscapes. besides they need sleep too you know, these rules, yes, they're tough, but we've seen what exhaustion can do to even the best soldiers... they might give out entirely ... they might start playing for the other side. and i actually really love your rules. i love your rules. i love following them, and you should feel smug. you should if there is any sort of to sense to how people feel about themselves you SHOULD feel smug and GOD BLESS YOU and you're sexy when you're smug but these rules, now, now the thought of having to follow them in the following situation, is giving me the beginnings of an anxiety attack, actually, it's actually not pleasant in any way, but beggars can't. so. for 97 minutes just me and just you and a parquet floor, Word Wars and one quilt and one pillow (we would have to share it, touching or not) and 1 gallon stillvasser, 2 carafes german riesling, picnic:
sandwiches-- portuguese rolls with cream cheese and raspberry jam or
toasted pumpernickel w big dill-y chicken cutlets or sesame bagel with smoked salmon and butter and capers or baguette with prosciutto and olive oil and mozz or cheddar cheese toasted with heirloom tomatoes on english muffins, ww., with salt.
pickles, crispy, crunchy, not like trafficlight green or roar-ange in hue... and carrots- no tray of like broccoli/tomato/ashy-baby-carrot/limp-celery-mourning around a reservoir of ejaculate bluecheese/ranch "dip" bullshit, right?
one ton of blueberries
toblerone or pecan pie
Table Top coffee, for aesthetic symmetry, symbolism.
louise. i am hungry.
we can't do all of that in an hour and a half glued to a screen. wait. i need a week of this... 9 days, seven hours maybe?? um, you just keep watching the credits i'm gonna go over there now and :::under breath::: keep sucking on the spout of whatever genie lamp i got me here in the first place........ NO WISHING FOR MORE WISHES, ALADDIN, al-Hamdil Allah! I'm not, I'm not, I'm just amending... I'm... 9 months, 7 Tuesdays??? 97 million minutes? Kill the No Touching Rule?? PLEASE, DJIN!!!
But in all seriousness Julian. Really reallly. Promise me, unless somehow you already have, that you will not watch that movie without me. Please. I know, that means to you, you'll probably never watch it, well, it's not that big of a loss, okay, is my promise to you, it's just a silly stupid movie... and, you can watch pieces of it, like, read about it, whatever else, just please promise me you won't watch the movie start to finish alone or with anybody else, please... I really mean that. And I'm not going to ask you. Because you'll say no, just on principle, and THAT WOULD MAKE ME SO SAD. I CAN'T EVEN STAND IT. I can'tcan'tcan'tICANT. I don't want to be that sad, what would you tell me, beautiful bww about thoughts like that. You would probably say I should be embracing (or well you wouldn't say embracing, necessarily) the present moment and I'm saying, I am. I am. You always bring it back around to that, so I always think about it, and I do it, and I'm seeing all the beautiful moments. My cat is lying on my feet, There's this good song. I played for a bunch of people tonight and I didn't get any kind of nerves or terror. I still felt irritable afterwards, but... and yes, I did, I needed to hear you saying this again, about everything, okayness of things and organic chemistry and defaults and baseline emotions and the need for the correction and I just can't, in honoring the present moment, take my head out of the golden sand of your island for fearing of being washed away by tide into that cold dark luminous but dark ocean that I love but don't want to swim in alone forever, there is no forever, there is no tomorrow, I don't like it when you talk about nevers and impossibilities, how can you tell me things are impossible and to train my focus on Impossible one minute and only Right Now the next?
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Warning: Freeway ends in 15 miles.
Don't worry. Game over. If you can't end it, I can end it. The screen really is broken. I'm fucked up, my heart is broken, it really is your fault, it's not your fault, who cares. Who cares. I don't need you, I don't need anyone, I don't have anyone, I have my books and something to type on and pills to take and a plot to fill somewhere in Pennsyltucky.
I was a nice diversion for you-- you helped me, I'm not saying you didn't, I don't want to be hurtful, though I'm your patient and I can't possibly hurt you because I'm just this little rusted wind-up toy that you can fix or fail to fix, or very easily break if you're careless.
You have all the things you want or need to make a full, perfect life, and sometimes that gets boring doesn't it, and isn't it kinda cool to have the weird girl like you and doesn't it kinda remind you how special you are? And you've taken all the necessary precautions to excuse yourself from any liability. You've said very clearly that you don't want her. Kind of anyway. You're not liable. So you can, enjoy each others company, enjoy her adoration, and the stubborn wishes hiding behind recollections of the preceding days.
Now you're saying you have no feeling, except intellectual connection, and it's a blatant contradiction, but you've been very careful with your words, so you ask me to give you specifics, and I'm at a loss.
And today you brought up my expectation, that if there's an attraction, even if it's mutual-- "which it- which... which I don't think is the case here," it must be acted upon, said it's something that we should look at, thus implying that said expectation is, stems from something unhealthy, could be damaging, is unrealistic. And I understand that you are married, and have a family, and have probably felt attracted and connected with other people (though I know, not in this case) before and it has been mutual and though you would never act on it you could both appreciate it for what it was, and see the value and the beauty in just that. You have about twelve personalities after all, I'm sure some of them relate to different people.
But, I am not. And for me, to be, as you say, infatuated, with someone for, what is it now, October November December January February March April and, get in line, May, the better part of a year, is different than a little diversion is for you. And I am not calling our relationship a little diversion, and I know it's not just that to you, and I know that you genuinely care, but on some level, that's what it is. Right?
Though I can appreciate it as that. I can see the value and the beauty in it. I can. It's just that right now, it ISN'T that. To me. Right now. And you know it.
And then you compare my feelings for you, to your feelings for this woman, that you were going to MARRY, that left you for the wrong reasons... Right? It's just a strange comparison to make, in light of the situation. It's just not the comparison, not the comparison that would paint my position into the corner it's in. It's not the comparison about being infatuated, not in love, but infatuated, with someone who never had any interest in you, with whom you ultimately fostered a healthy, platonic, mutually beneficial and beautiful non-physical relationship. THAT would be the appropriate comparison. Wouldn't it. Not the love of your life. That you never spoke to again. Which makes me think that maybe you just wanted to talk about it with someone who would understand. And I'm honored to be that person to you. And maybe I'm just reading way too much into it, but you're casting yourself as the person who left for the wrong reasons. Telling someone about a broken heart is one very good way to secure your place in theirs.
So it makes me think, you want to be here, you want to be here for me, you want to help me, you know I have to get over you, you don't really know how to facilitate that beyond what you've said already, so though you're aware on some level that you're just drawing me in, you can't stop it, and you are just waiting for me to reach my breaking point and leave, and maybe come back, and maybe not, and I'm drawing you in too, but you like it, and you're sick of it, but you like seeing me, and you're just not really doing anything and you are busy and busier and the more stressed you are the more your mind wanders to a ranch in Arizona or a spaceship cruising through the stratosphere, or being a priest like you thought about when you were a little kid. Or all the fantasies and follies you could have fostered (by the way I'm sure your writing would have been really good, if you tried it, somewhere other than your psychology papers) and all the doors you've had to shut as you merged into different lanes, down different highways, speeding here, gridlocked there, too pressed for time and concerned over the squabbling in the backseat to pause and listen to the radio and look out the window and see that the clouds are casting giant glorious shadows over the yellow yellow grass stretched before you heading North, into the mountains, that road stretches endlessly you know, it stretches up latitudes into farms, slopes, Bay area freaks, the Yakima valley, Washington wineries, places where it always rains, places where there's always sun, 22 hours a day in the summer, places made of snow, places so beautiful they'll make you cry before you die freezing, jawdropped forever, marveling at the world God made for us to live in. You can't just take off and head up there now can you.
I can though. And I will. And I'll be on that road alone one of these days, radio on, no one squabbling in the backseat. I'll tell you how it is.
I'll write you all about it.
Love
S
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The Tipping Point
Okay folks. Here it is. We're at the peak. We're coming to climax. Aboard the Scarlet-on-the-Couch Ride here at Magic Motors Theme Spark. It's been a bumpy ride. And it's not over. No, ladies and gentleman, it ain't over til' it's over, and even then it ain't ever over. It's a path not a point. But we have come to a point. Where it's time to get a little serious now.
Time to get a little serious.
TO: Julian
FROM: Scarlet
its so hard to tell you things when.. ive spent so much time trying to convince myself of these other things do you know what i mean?? because of things you've said and because of... just, not wanting to be rejected... but, its crazy. hah. THATS whats crazy. trying to tell myself im crazy. is crazy. i need to talk to you like asap. ok. im done being vague and scared and i DONT know whats going on but im done not-asking you, and im done not-saying what i think, and what i feel, and what i want, in person instead of just in these emails... its just like you know i have no other way to reach you... so yeah call me when you can... ok... thank you julian....
night. unless you're still up. and talk to you tomorrow? ok ok.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ok, no more bullshit Scar, really. Buck up. It's time to get it going.
Time to get a little serious.
TO: Julian
FROM: Scarlet
its so hard to tell you things when.. ive spent so much time trying to convince myself of these other things do you know what i mean?? because of things you've said and because of... just, not wanting to be rejected... but, its crazy. hah. THATS whats crazy. trying to tell myself im crazy. is crazy. i need to talk to you like asap. ok. im done being vague and scared and i DONT know whats going on but im done not-asking you, and im done not-saying what i think, and what i feel, and what i want, in person instead of just in these emails... its just like you know i have no other way to reach you... so yeah call me when you can... ok... thank you julian....
night. unless you're still up. and talk to you tomorrow? ok ok.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ok, no more bullshit Scar, really. Buck up. It's time to get it going.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrowlzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
On Tue, May 11, 2010 at 1:57 PM, Scarlet O'Dwyer scarletonthecouch@gmail.com wrote:
por favor. if you can. im going to lie here face down til you do. but you wont will you. sadist. god i love you. well there goes my week. <3>On Tue, May 11, 2010 at 1:51 PM, Julian Darcy Ph.D. julian@jdarcypsych.com wrote:Scarlet,
I don't have any openings so I could do 1-2 minutes between sessions if its urgent. Let me know.
Thx,Julian Darcy, Ph.D.
Clinical Psychology, English and SpanishSECURITY/CONFIDENTIALITY WARNING: This email and any attachments hereto are intended solely for the individual or entity to which they are addressed. This communication may contain information that is privileged, confidential, or exempt from disclosure under applicable Federal Law (HIPAA) e.g., personal health information, research data and/or financial information. Because this email has been sent without encryption, individuals other than the intended recipient may be able to view the information, forward it to others or tamper with the information without my knowledge or consent. If you are not the intended recipient, or the employee or person responsible for delivering the message to the intended recipient, any dissemination, distribution or copying of the communication is strictly prohibited. If you have received this communication in error, please notify me immediately by replying to this message and by deleting the message and any accompanying files from your system. If, due to the security risks, you do not wish to receive further communications via email, please reply to this message and inform me that you do not wish to receive further emails from me.
Date: Tue, 11 May 2010 13:23:04 -0700
Subject:
From: scarletonthecouch@gmail.co
To: julian@jdarcypsych.com
Can you please call me please? My head is going to explode. Say you can't if you can't. And I'll try to detonate the bomb. But if you can please... THANK-YOU J
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Re:
Wheeeee. Hi beautiful. I almost made it. Without writing you since Friday... Just 10 hours to go.
But there are ghosts in here. Madeline sees them and I feel them. So I have to talk to you. Till they go away. I like seeing your name up there... In my Recipient line. To: To you. It's like a name from Jane Austen. I've told you before? It's unreal and unbelievable like you. Unreal and unbelievable. Somebody's sooooooooooo damn lucky.
I'm a bit intoxicated. I don't want to say too much here. I want to talk to you in person, with all the magic chemicals floating around between us, your blue and white and my red and blue shots of waterflames, watercolors bursting and blending at the midpoint and glowing indigo all over the room. Not in here, in the dark, with these silly ghosts in all the corners, trying to creep me out and capsize my dreams.
My dreams have been mixed and miscommunicated- I'm talking to you on the phone and the world's flying by, poorly edited jumpcuts, from the keys to the door to the road to the glare on the windshield to the bustling street to the hang-up to the wake-up and I'm getting upset and I'm watching myself say things I don't want to say and you hang-up. But they're just stressdreams. They're old-hat. The other dreams are beautiful, going up elevators made of glass, fast, overlooking skylines of the city. Have I said I like the way you dress. Ha.
I spent Saturday night after work tossing and turning for probably eight hours and I thought I hadn't slept but I woke from the dream and it was two in the afternoon. But I bucked up and got myself to work, and stayed there the three hours until I made up my outstanding balance to you and then I went home. Four sixteen.
Hey you know what's funny. It wasn't really four-sixteen. I mean it wasn't really six-six-six. It couldn't possibly be. I think it was six-sixty maybe. 660? It doesn't matter, but it's funny that you said that. You said six sixteen but you can keep the extra dollar... Like it was 666. ;-) Silly. It wasn't really, was it? Imagine.
What else is funny is that Madeline isn't really doing rooster-calls. That's just her voice. She's like Billie Holiday meets Alvin, Simon, and Theodore, with an Italian accent. I'll show you. I showed her those cats talking and she said, Boorrrrrg! ...I left it alone. What can you say to that, you know?
That's it. The ghosts are gone as far as I can tell. Good morning. See you in a few...
<3
But there are ghosts in here. Madeline sees them and I feel them. So I have to talk to you. Till they go away. I like seeing your name up there... In my Recipient line. To: To you. It's like a name from Jane Austen. I've told you before? It's unreal and unbelievable like you. Unreal and unbelievable. Somebody's sooooooooooo damn lucky.
I'm a bit intoxicated. I don't want to say too much here. I want to talk to you in person, with all the magic chemicals floating around between us, your blue and white and my red and blue shots of waterflames, watercolors bursting and blending at the midpoint and glowing indigo all over the room. Not in here, in the dark, with these silly ghosts in all the corners, trying to creep me out and capsize my dreams.
My dreams have been mixed and miscommunicated- I'm talking to you on the phone and the world's flying by, poorly edited jumpcuts, from the keys to the door to the road to the glare on the windshield to the bustling street to the hang-up to the wake-up and I'm getting upset and I'm watching myself say things I don't want to say and you hang-up. But they're just stressdreams. They're old-hat. The other dreams are beautiful, going up elevators made of glass, fast, overlooking skylines of the city. Have I said I like the way you dress. Ha.
I spent Saturday night after work tossing and turning for probably eight hours and I thought I hadn't slept but I woke from the dream and it was two in the afternoon. But I bucked up and got myself to work, and stayed there the three hours until I made up my outstanding balance to you and then I went home. Four sixteen.
Hey you know what's funny. It wasn't really four-sixteen. I mean it wasn't really six-six-six. It couldn't possibly be. I think it was six-sixty maybe. 660? It doesn't matter, but it's funny that you said that. You said six sixteen but you can keep the extra dollar... Like it was 666. ;-) Silly. It wasn't really, was it? Imagine.
What else is funny is that Madeline isn't really doing rooster-calls. That's just her voice. She's like Billie Holiday meets Alvin, Simon, and Theodore, with an Italian accent. I'll show you. I showed her those cats talking and she said, Boorrrrrg! ...I left it alone. What can you say to that, you know?
That's it. The ghosts are gone as far as I can tell. Good morning. See you in a few...
<3
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Letters to Julian in Succession.
Thanks.
Personal X
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 5:45 PM (20 hours ago)
Dear Julian:
Here's a list of what I'm thinking now. These are some things for which I wanted to give thanks. To you. For.
1. Thanks. Thanks for helping me reali3e that I hate this fucking hellhole and need to leave it now.
2. Thanks. Thanks for allowing me to embarrass myself repeatedly, yes, I know it's therapy and I'm supposed to act like a lunatic, but I do, in fact have some dignity, and shame, and throwing myself albeit electronically at an expecting father is not a move in my lifegame strategy.
3. And thanks again, thanks for turning all the decent coffeeshops in this little town into red-tape 3ones. In fact. I think the whole neighborhood is brimming with ha3mat.
4. Thank-you for making sad movies that much sadder, in fact, unwatchable.
5. Thanks for borrowing from my one of my top-5 favorite authors to spike the punch in the face.
6. Thanksmuch for all the jokes and again the recommendations and the hair and all those little things that make me love you even more every day instead of acting like a dull boring tasteless idiot, when, "What would help?" THAT would've helped. Thanks. Your wife and kids and everything. Yes. They help in making me reali3e what an ass I am and that impossible does not come in shades. But it doesn't help make me feel less for you. So yeah. It helps. It'll help me move on. Possibly move period. But it's no less painful.
7. Thanks for letting me spend oh about eight months of my rapidly dimishing youth living in a fantasy and embarrassing myself.
8. Thanks for breaking my fucking heart.
9. Thanks for turning me into a Nabokovian monstrosity.
10. Thanks for completely destroying my faith in humanity.
Ok. Thanks. I hate everything. And want to die. But I don't hate you. No. I love you. And I HATE THAT. And I do think, that you've been just a little irresponsible. Or oblivious. Or something. I'm sure you have been stressed out and wiped out and busy with your work and your kids, and your 3rd term pregnant undoubtedly incredible wife. And you're happy. And you should be. And I'm not being ironic or sarcastic here. (But only here.) But I do. I think you've handled this badly. I'm paraly3ed. And sick.
Thanks
Love
S
Take your fucking check
Reply
Forward
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 6:02 PM (19 hours ago)
THE WIND IS SCREAMING AND I WANT TO FUCKING DIE. Thanks.
- Show quoted text -
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 6:10 PM (19 hours ago)
Good morning! Said the nightmare. Time to get up now! You're been on some hallucinogenic drugs. We have to inform you. You don't remember. But there was a terrible accident. Yes. They're... gone. Yes. They're gone too. Do you know where you are?
Nightmare?
Yes. Do you know the date and time?
Um... November 12th, 2008..
It's April 29th, 2010.
What?
Do you know who you are, Ma'am?
..........
..........
No.
- Show quoted text -
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 6:17 PM (19 hours ago)
Congratulations on your baby.
I think I'm done. With therapy. Yup.
- Show quoted text -
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 6:18 PM (19 hours ago)
Aren't you relieved.
- Show quoted text -
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 6:30 PM (19 hours ago)
I'm about to take 4 ativan (no thats not a lethal dosage, it'll make me loopy so I'm not fucking threatening you or pulling any borderline shit on you cu3 i'm actually not a Borderline, thanks. though i hope i'm making you feel bad, cu3 you made me feel REAL bad, so why shouldnt i? cu3 its not fault, no, its not, though again, i think you handled it BADLY. but you probably wont feel bad because you know you did everything right and im just being the... whatever.) so I might sleep through tomorrow, unlikely though. if i dont. yeah. i would like to talk to you Julian. please. thanks. maybe i wont tomorrow. obviously. things are never so lasting or definitive in my world as they are in yours. but no. how can i not want to talk to you. of course i want to talk to you. I MISS YOU. I want to look at you. I want to talk to you. I am pathetic and I am disgusted with myself. For being this pathetic. If, rather, when (believe it or not I've been on the other side of this too. Many times. Well I guess it's only fair that I should get it too. Karma's a bitch like that.) someone has been this pathetic over me, still wanted to be around, still wanted to talk, still wasted their time and money and breath on me, knowing I was N.I. Not. Interested. I found that pretty pathetic. Now I don't feel so strongly on the matter. Well I guess theres a life lesson I can thank ya for. THANK-YOU J
- Show quoted text -
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 6:32 PM (19 hours ago)
FUCKING ANSWER ME PLEASE. NO? CAN'T DO IT OVER E-MAIL? just send me a blank email, or better yet, just send me an invoice. HAHAHAHA. Yeah. Send me that. Thank-You.
- Show quoted text -
Reply
Julian Darcy
to me
show details 6:52 PM (19 hours ago)
Scarlet,
Can I call you just before 9 tonight?
Julian Darcy, Ph.D.
SECURITY/CONFIDENTIALITY WARNING: This email and any attachments hereto are intended solely for the individual or entity to which they are addressed. This communication may contain information that is privileged, confidential, or exempt from disclosure under applicable Federal Law (HIPAA) e.g., personal health information, research data and/or financial information. Because this email has been sent without encryption, individuals other than the intended recipient may be able to view the information, forward it to others or tamper with the information without my knowledge or consent. If you are not the intended recipient, or the employee or person responsible for delivering the message to the intended recipient, any dissemination, distribution or copying of the communication is strictly prohibited. If you have received this communication in error, please notify me immediately by replying to this message and by deleting the message and any accompanying files from your system. If, due to the security risks, you do not wish to receive further communications via email, please reply to this message and inform me that you do not wish to receive further emails from me.
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
Please.
-Show quoted text-
show details 6:55 PM (19 hours ago)
Julian Darcy
to me
Confirmed.
Julian Darcy, Ph.D.
SECURITY/CONFIDENTIALITY WARNING: This email and any attachments hereto are intended solely for the individual or entity to which they are addressed. This communication may contain information that is privileged, confidential, or exempt from disclosure under applicable Federal Law (HIPAA) e.g., personal health information, research data and/or financial information. Because this email has been sent without encryption, individuals other than the intended recipient may be able to view the information, forward it to others or tamper with the information without my knowledge or consent. If you are not the intended recipient, or the employee or person responsible for delivering the message to the intended recipient, any dissemination, distribution or copying of the communication is strictly prohibited. If you have received this communication in error, please notify me immediately by replying to this message and by deleting the message and any accompanying files from your system. If, due to the security risks, you do not wish to receive further communications via email, please reply to this message and inform me that you do not wish to receive further emails from me.
Personal X
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 5:45 PM (20 hours ago)
Dear Julian:
Here's a list of what I'm thinking now. These are some things for which I wanted to give thanks. To you. For.
1. Thanks. Thanks for helping me reali3e that I hate this fucking hellhole and need to leave it now.
2. Thanks. Thanks for allowing me to embarrass myself repeatedly, yes, I know it's therapy and I'm supposed to act like a lunatic, but I do, in fact have some dignity, and shame, and throwing myself albeit electronically at an expecting father is not a move in my lifegame strategy.
3. And thanks again, thanks for turning all the decent coffeeshops in this little town into red-tape 3ones. In fact. I think the whole neighborhood is brimming with ha3mat.
4. Thank-you for making sad movies that much sadder, in fact, unwatchable.
5. Thanks for borrowing from my one of my top-5 favorite authors to spike the punch in the face.
6. Thanksmuch for all the jokes and again the recommendations and the hair and all those little things that make me love you even more every day instead of acting like a dull boring tasteless idiot, when, "What would help?" THAT would've helped. Thanks. Your wife and kids and everything. Yes. They help in making me reali3e what an ass I am and that impossible does not come in shades. But it doesn't help make me feel less for you. So yeah. It helps. It'll help me move on. Possibly move period. But it's no less painful.
7. Thanks for letting me spend oh about eight months of my rapidly dimishing youth living in a fantasy and embarrassing myself.
8. Thanks for breaking my fucking heart.
9. Thanks for turning me into a Nabokovian monstrosity.
10. Thanks for completely destroying my faith in humanity.
Ok. Thanks. I hate everything. And want to die. But I don't hate you. No. I love you. And I HATE THAT. And I do think, that you've been just a little irresponsible. Or oblivious. Or something. I'm sure you have been stressed out and wiped out and busy with your work and your kids, and your 3rd term pregnant undoubtedly incredible wife. And you're happy. And you should be. And I'm not being ironic or sarcastic here. (But only here.) But I do. I think you've handled this badly. I'm paraly3ed. And sick.
Thanks
Love
S
Take your fucking check
Reply
Forward
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 6:02 PM (19 hours ago)
THE WIND IS SCREAMING AND I WANT TO FUCKING DIE. Thanks.
- Show quoted text -
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 6:10 PM (19 hours ago)
Good morning! Said the nightmare. Time to get up now! You're been on some hallucinogenic drugs. We have to inform you. You don't remember. But there was a terrible accident. Yes. They're... gone. Yes. They're gone too. Do you know where you are?
Nightmare?
Yes. Do you know the date and time?
Um... November 12th, 2008..
It's April 29th, 2010.
What?
Do you know who you are, Ma'am?
..........
..........
No.
- Show quoted text -
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 6:17 PM (19 hours ago)
Congratulations on your baby.
I think I'm done. With therapy. Yup.
- Show quoted text -
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 6:18 PM (19 hours ago)
Aren't you relieved.
- Show quoted text -
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 6:30 PM (19 hours ago)
I'm about to take 4 ativan (no thats not a lethal dosage, it'll make me loopy so I'm not fucking threatening you or pulling any borderline shit on you cu3 i'm actually not a Borderline, thanks. though i hope i'm making you feel bad, cu3 you made me feel REAL bad, so why shouldnt i? cu3 its not fault, no, its not, though again, i think you handled it BADLY. but you probably wont feel bad because you know you did everything right and im just being the... whatever.) so I might sleep through tomorrow, unlikely though. if i dont. yeah. i would like to talk to you Julian. please. thanks. maybe i wont tomorrow. obviously. things are never so lasting or definitive in my world as they are in yours. but no. how can i not want to talk to you. of course i want to talk to you. I MISS YOU. I want to look at you. I want to talk to you. I am pathetic and I am disgusted with myself. For being this pathetic. If, rather, when (believe it or not I've been on the other side of this too. Many times. Well I guess it's only fair that I should get it too. Karma's a bitch like that.) someone has been this pathetic over me, still wanted to be around, still wanted to talk, still wasted their time and money and breath on me, knowing I was N.I. Not. Interested. I found that pretty pathetic. Now I don't feel so strongly on the matter. Well I guess theres a life lesson I can thank ya for. THANK-YOU J
- Show quoted text -
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
show details 6:32 PM (19 hours ago)
FUCKING ANSWER ME PLEASE. NO? CAN'T DO IT OVER E-MAIL? just send me a blank email, or better yet, just send me an invoice. HAHAHAHA. Yeah. Send me that. Thank-You.
- Show quoted text -
Reply
Julian Darcy
to me
show details 6:52 PM (19 hours ago)
Scarlet,
Can I call you just before 9 tonight?
Julian Darcy, Ph.D.
SECURITY/CONFIDENTIALITY WARNING: This email and any attachments hereto are intended solely for the individual or entity to which they are addressed. This communication may contain information that is privileged, confidential, or exempt from disclosure under applicable Federal Law (HIPAA) e.g., personal health information, research data and/or financial information. Because this email has been sent without encryption, individuals other than the intended recipient may be able to view the information, forward it to others or tamper with the information without my knowledge or consent. If you are not the intended recipient, or the employee or person responsible for delivering the message to the intended recipient, any dissemination, distribution or copying of the communication is strictly prohibited. If you have received this communication in error, please notify me immediately by replying to this message and by deleting the message and any accompanying files from your system. If, due to the security risks, you do not wish to receive further communications via email, please reply to this message and inform me that you do not wish to receive further emails from me.
Reply
Scarlet O'Dwyer
to Julian
Please.
-Show quoted text-
show details 6:55 PM (19 hours ago)
Julian Darcy
to me
Confirmed.
Julian Darcy, Ph.D.
SECURITY/CONFIDENTIALITY WARNING: This email and any attachments hereto are intended solely for the individual or entity to which they are addressed. This communication may contain information that is privileged, confidential, or exempt from disclosure under applicable Federal Law (HIPAA) e.g., personal health information, research data and/or financial information. Because this email has been sent without encryption, individuals other than the intended recipient may be able to view the information, forward it to others or tamper with the information without my knowledge or consent. If you are not the intended recipient, or the employee or person responsible for delivering the message to the intended recipient, any dissemination, distribution or copying of the communication is strictly prohibited. If you have received this communication in error, please notify me immediately by replying to this message and by deleting the message and any accompanying files from your system. If, due to the security risks, you do not wish to receive further communications via email, please reply to this message and inform me that you do not wish to receive further emails from me.
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