no, friday night never happened. the night i came home and wrote that bit was thursday and that was a bad day, and then friday was a bad day, too. it was so bad that it leaped over into this weekend. fortunately i was not at work this weekend, but was called to work today. without saying the actual words i basically told them to fuck off. hahaha. things are not going well over there right now. it's been about a week of hell, each day getting deeper and deeper into dante's diagram. perhaps by this coming week we may find light after digging through the very end of the pit. just like you said, diane, there is a crack in everything. well, leonard said it first, but you know what i mean....
anyway.... i just realized that i'm writing this response in the bulletin and not on microsoft word, so i'll post this response now then start writing my real response which is my next installment.
I have just read your second-to-last post, and thought I'd respond to that in case I don't get around to reading your latest tonight. I am sorry you are feeling so bad and that you have had such a bad week. If you feel bad in the way I interpret your words, you may have some blocked anger or grief (grief is a mix of anger and sadness) inside you. If you can feel the anger rising to the surface, try punching a puch-bag, or simply screaming aloud, and Let it Out! If you feel 'stuck' with it, I hope you will consider seeing a counsellor, because I hate to think of you struggling with it alone.
perhaps by this coming week we may find light after digging through the very end of the pit. just like you said, diane, there is a crack in everything. well, leonard said it first, but you know what i mean....
Yes, it's a reversal of Leonard's meaning, but no less true of course. Just like there is no 'perfect' good, there is no 'perfect' bad either. Here's hoping you find the crack in the pit you are in...
Jason, you are a lovely young man, and it is very brave of you to write your story here on the forum. Many of us here care about you.
diane, thanks for your sympathy, but when i was talking about things being bad, i only meant at work. i didn't mean everything was going bad right now. maybe i wasn't clear enough. work is hell right now but outside of work things are borderline exciting, which is an awkward balance but i'm walking the tightrope. if i fall to the left i fall onto the pavement (work). if i fall to the right, there will be people to catch me and it'd be a thrill ride (my friends and our plans). hahaha. so, i've had 3 days off of work and tomorrow i go back for 4 days until i get saturday off. hopefully things got better over there while i was away. i'll wait to post more after you get to read the last entry.
Okay, I'm getting there. You've just concluded with your Internet acquaintance and are just beginning 10th grade. I'll continue reading later. For now, I have some work to do.
Your writing reads easily and is very descriptive, Jason. I can 'feel' high school all around when I read it.
hahaha. if you wanted me to get more detailed so you can "feel" high school, i can do that, too. hahaha. i remember the layout of the campuses and everything. i'm only supposed to write about the girls in my life, but sometimes i get carried away with other things. hahaha. it IS turning into my life story!!! gahh!!!
So the only crack might be in the pavement, huh? Terrible joke, but how could I resist. If your job is that bad and doesn't get better, how about looking for a new one?
I've just read through your latest post. There doesn't seem to be much to comment on, it all reads like regular teenage stuff. I remain impressed at how much detail you recall.
and sean said something to her to the effect of “hope things get better with your family.” I didn’t even think of saying anything like that but he told me afterwards, “you gotta say stuff like that. You gotta remember what they say to you so she can tell that you are interested.” It made a lot of sense.
I have thought a number of times whilst reading your story how good a friend Sean is to you.
Yes, if you want to connect with someone, simply engage them in conversation about what is happening right now in their lives.
The next day I went up to her before school and pulled her aside to talk to her privately. I told her exactly what I said to jenn, which included me confessing that I liked her. I don’t remember her reaction to her hearing that I liked her, but she just said the same thing she did the day before, like “it’s okay, don’t worry about it. It’s over with. We’re still friends.”
When girls seem not to be interested in you as more than a friend, they are probably not going to change. The time will come when you meet someone who is equally as interested in you as you in them. Yes, really.
Lizzy, who needs to read a novel when you can read Jason's life history, huh ?
i've thought about getting a different job, but i decided against it. don't really want to go into why, but until something lands in my lap and either forces me to leave or happens to be better than where i'm at and is an easy opportunity, i will go for it. until then, we'll see what happens within the next 6 months.
I understand what you say about your job. It's a drag when you have to do a job you dislike though, cos you do spend a lot of your life there.
I notice that a lot of people are reading your thread, but only myself and occasionally Lizzy are commenting. I wonder if any of these silent witnesses have any advice for you ?
hahaha, i dunno if anyone else wants to respond but won't. they're probably disgusted. hahaha. or more like they're thinking, "this is ridiculous!" hahaha. that's ok. anyway, i figured i'd get to my next segment, but i'll keep it fairly short for now.
before i get to daniela, i wanted to say something i forgot to say before about renata. i was still writing poetry in notebooks and numbering them and everything in high school. just like the ones i wrote and would let rachel read. the title of the one i was working on when i was a junior in high school was called "The 13th Installment of the Jason Simons Collection." in it i had written a story out of poems. it consisted of exactly 100 poems. i was able to fit more than that in this notebook, so there were extras, but it was mainly made for this 100-piece epic story made out of poems. i cut it up into several parts with subtitles and everything. i called it "The Cogito ...and other thoughts of the ape and his world of love." if you are unfamiliar with that term, "cogito," it is pretty much, as my understanding goes, the term used to express the theory of "i think, therefore i am." anyway, i am looking at the cover of it right now. i love my symbolic artwork. hahaha. i used to draw a lot in grade school but later on whenever i drew anything it had to be symbolic. i wrote "cogito" in big capital letters, and the first "o" is shaped like a human head--it's a profile view, side view... just an outline. inside the outline i drew a brain inside, just like the diagrams of a brain look. underneath the title i drew a huge five-pointed star that fills the entire page. fused with the star is a heart. not a human heart, but y'know, a heart. haha. at the top i drew a crucifix with a sketch of a gorilla hanging from it. underneath, in the middle of the star-heart diagram is the shape of a house, and inside the house i sketched a huge fetus. underneath the fetus are roses. beneath the house i drew a pill, like a gelcap, colored half of it, and wrote "GOD" inside of it.
the table of contents is worse. haha. i split everthing up into 3 major categories--Part 1: The Egocentric Predicament, Part 2: The New Life, and Part 3: The Effects. then i broke them down with subtitles and stuff like that. the biggest portion of the set is part 2. part 2 is made up mostly of stuff about my high school experience and of renata. part 1 is just like a prelude, an introduction of sorts, mostly whimsical and fanciful. underneath part 1 i have the subtitles: A. The Beginning: God and Me; and B. The Aftermath: Escaping Reality. underneath part 2 i have the subtitles: C. The Existing Mind: A Creature of Consciousness; and D. The Downhill Fall. there's so many poems in part 2 that i even gave subtitles to the subtitles to split up specific sections. under part 3 i have: E. The Memory Remains; and F. Where This Leaves Us. this is all very interesting as a lot of this is coming back to me. i made up words and things like that. i made up this word, "irachrome." the pre-fix is "ire," which means hate. and the suffix "chrome" denotes the color of something, i.e. kodachrome. so technically i guess it would translate to "the color of hate."
i had titles like "Re-evolution," which plays on the word "revolution," but also taken at face value would mean another attempt at evolution. also there is "I Am Kill," "The Lonely God (Floored of the Lies)," which plays off "lord of the flies," "Evilution," "Deiphage," another word i made up which means "to eat god," "The Chatechism of a Born Again Atheist," "Theos," "Ipse Dixit," "Amorachrome," which is the exact opposite of irachrome, it would be "the color of love," "Noctophane (Allegory of the Cave)," which relates to the story by plato as well as another word i made up which would suggest that something is taking the form of night, "Jason and the Supernauts," referring to a song by black sabbath, "Nomen Nudum," "Solipsism," "Rotting in the Crib," "The Boy Who Killed His Brain," "Return of the Ape," and "In the Wasteland of Eden," which is the title of the very last poem. there is a LOT of philosophy in here. this was when i was heavily studying philosophy. you can tell just by some of the titles of these poems. most of the time in these poems i am going back and forth between trying to figure out if everything is in my head or if it is reality. it's like i'm struggling to keep up the teenage lifestyle, necessities, and responsibilities, but then i'm also struggling with how i felt about renata, and just to mix it up, asked myself all these philosophical questions like, "do i exist?" "is this all for real?" "is the present the only thing that exists?" it is all very fucked up. actually i also wanted to turn this into a novel. i began writing this "novel" my senior year and didn't get very far. i was going to turn each poem into its own chapter but keep every single title and subtitle as separations and stuff like that. i think i got 6 chapters into it and never found time to write any more. the poems were more artistic, but the idea of writing the novel version of it was just to expand and make it more concrete and understandable. but i held nothing back. i used real names, i cursed like a sailor if i felt like it, i went off on tangents, everything. of course, i told my english teacher and she wanted to read one of the chapters, so i let her... and then she handed it back to me with notes and suggestions all over it. hahaha. the only reason i let her read it was because i had a goddamn crush on her, too. but THIS IS ALL FOR NEXT TIME! hahaha. seeing as i don't have any time left. i was gonna keep it short, and instead of talking about daniela i talked about this 100-piece poetry book. blah. well, hope it was interesting for ya. i'll get back to the girls next time. maybe tomorrow night. ciao.
hahaha, i dunno if anyone else wants to respond but won't. they're probably disgusted. hahaha. or more like they're thinking, "this is ridiculous!" hahaha
Nothing in your story is remotely disgusting or ridiculous. I was wondering whether people, men in particular, were thinking about similar things that happened to them, and how they fared...
in the middle of the star-heart diagram is the shape of a house, and inside the house i sketched a huge fetus. underneath the fetus are roses. beneath the house i drew a pill, like a gelcap, colored half of it, and wrote "GOD" inside of it.
Does the fetus symbol have a connection with your screen name, "Teratogen"?
i called it "The Cogito ...
"Cogito ergo sum / I think, therefore I am." Yes, the philospohy of Rene Descartes, and the idea behind the so-called 'cartesian split' between between body and mind, matter and spirit. You might be interested, if you haven't already, in reading Buddhist ideas, where conventional dualistic thinking, trapped in the symbols of language, is thought to be useless for solving the problem of existence. The Cartesian Split needs to be healed. You don't, in fact, exist, as the concept of yourself you carry around. Instead 'you' are a stream of various thoughts, memories, sensations and feelings. The first thing you need to do, according to this view, is see and feel what you are experiencing as it is, and not as it is named. That takes you closer to who 'you' are.
i love my symbolic artwork
You are a very creative person.
most of the time in these poems i am going back and forth between trying to figure out if everything is in my head or if it is reality. it's like i'm struggling to keep up the teenage lifestyle, necessities, and responsibilities, but then i'm also struggling with how i felt about renata, and just to mix it up, asked myself all these philosophical questions like, "do i exist?" "is this all for real?" "is the present the only thing that exists?" it is all very fucked up
It doesn't seem to me that there is anything fucked up about wondering about relationships or existence.
You have done a lot of deep thinking at a young age, Jason. I hope you do write a novel one day, if you continue to feel you'd like to do that. There is a great deal of depth to you. Thanks for writing your story here.
YES... "cogito ergo sum," i KNEW there was a latin version of the saying but completely forgot what it was, as well as the fact that it was renee descarte's major thesis and study. i have also studied a bit of buddhist philosophy but haven't read anything of it in quite a while. at least not since studying philosophy in high school.
when i said all of it was fucked up i didn't mean that i was fucked up (though i very well could have been), nor did i mean that what i was thinking was fucked up. i meant that the concoction of all those ideas (love, philosophy, and the teenage lifestyle) was a pretty fucked up combination to be writing about as a story.
as far as the fetus being related to my name, it had no corrolation. i came up with the name when i began making music. in fact, i think i began making music around the time i wrote that story because some of the first songs i recorded i took from that notebook. i didn't turn any of those 100 poems into songs but for the extra poems i did. but i don't think i started with the music until after i finished this book. because i remember telling renata about how i started making music. so i know this all happened within my junior year in high school.
anyway, i read through the first 20 poems or so last night, which i hadn't done in a long time. i laughed a lot mostly because some of it was ridiculous, but also some of the lines i wrote were terrible and some things made no sense. i remember how bad i used to be at rhyming things and never took time to make sure my lines meant something important. i was always quick to try to find something to rhyme and it wound up making the poems worse as a result. also i remembered that prior to beginning this whole story and everything i had done the same thing in my 11th poetry book as well. it was called "The Last Original Ventriloquist of Earth." i don't know why i said "of" instead of "on" or something like that, but the most important words are the main words: Last, Original, Ventriloquist, and Earth. if you notice the first letter of each of those words you'll see what i mean. the entire title of the book is "The Last Original Ventriloquist of Earth ...and other tales of the young american marionette..." i drew an exact replica of the king of hearts as the main picture, including the "K" and heart symbols in the top left and bottom right corners. in the top right and bottom left corners i drew a sketch of a puppet with its legs apart, knees bent, and arms flailing, all attached to strings. the sketch is really basic, just like the one i mentioned of the gorilla in the other one. perhaps i can scan all of these in sometime.
this "story" consisted of 17 poems, and i split them up into 4 parts. part 1 is just one poem, so it's the only poem labeled with its own name. parts 3-4 have their own subtitles and are not actual poems themselves. here is the set in its entirety:
The Last Original Ventriloquist of Earth
I. The Newborn Are Buried [To Kiss or Kill]
II. The Condescending Matriarch:
1. The Tale of Adonis
2. Bourn Again
3. Who Am I?
4. Prelude to Matricide
5. Mother
6. She Isn't
III. The Fruits of the Vine (Powers That Be):
7. Fruit
8. The Celestial Hierarchy of Power
9. In Her Shoes
10. Jack of Hearts
IV. The Ingenuous Credulous Marionette:
11. The Last Original Ventriloquist of Earth
12. Foolish Little Dummy
13. Come to Be
14. Stab
15. King of Hearts
16. Above the Law
now, mind you, this is all fictitious, of course, there are bits of autobiographical content. the first part is all about a mother figure. i know you're gonna say something about this correlating to my own mother, but i haven't read this stuff in a long time so i couldn't tell you if it's true. i believe the mother character represented "mother earth." i also played on the themes of the card suit that is the hearts (i.e., king of hearts, jack of hearts), as well as the ventriloquist idea, that all i am is a puppet being controlled by love. i think i even made love as its own character. i also played on the theme of the story of adonis, who fell in love with aphrodite, the greek goddess of love.
anyway, the reason i mentioned this is because as i read those first 20 poems of the 100-part story i realized that i made a lot of allusions to THIS story. i think when i began writing it i wanted it to be something of a sequel. hahaha.
well i didn't want to spend too much time here tonight since we have to set our clocks ahead and hour and that means i lose an hour, so it's getting late now and i've got some other things to take care of. perhaps i'll get back to the REAL story (not this story stuff i been telling you here) tomorrow night. till then....
I am half-way through answering your post, but I have to leave for work, so I will come back tonight rather than rush it. Life is getting hectic these days. I hope you had a good weekend.
I'm reading your posts and the answers but haven't been moved to meddle. LOL Most of us fumble and bump through our existance on this little rock, and I don't want to give you too much good advice. You might not have as much "fun" as the above average Joe.
As far as work goes, I will say that even the best positions, doing exactly what you wish and mostly as your own boss, get rather mundane and bore one with an inquisitive mind after a few months or years. I've had several positions that others envied but never really totally liked any of them, so I can speak from experience. Of course it is even worse when you dislike the job to boot and I had a couple of those too. Keep up the good fight, young man.
"For the captain had quitted the long drawn strife
And in far Simoree had taken a wife." (R Kipling)
when i said all of it was fucked up i didn't mean that i was fucked up (though i very well could have been), nor did i mean that what i was thinking was fucked up. i meant that the concoction of all those ideas (love, philosophy, and the teenage lifestyle) was a pretty fucked up combination to be writing about as a story.
I see what you mean. Well, I've always liked bringing threads of things together. Your book obviously contained all that was most important to you at the time.
the first part is all about a mother figure. i know you're gonna say something about this correlating to my own mother, but i haven't read this stuff in a long time so i couldn't tell you if it's true. i believe the mother character represented "mother earth."
Mother earth is what nurtures and sustains us, the same as our actual mothers do, ideally, when we are young. Your creative work is very interesting. Of course, it is impossible for me to know whether it is 'about' your Mother. Only you would know. I will bite my tongue and stop guessing. But, returning to the question of relationships, which is what you were wondering about, this is what I do know:
Everybody requires sufficient love for who they are, from their parents ideally, but from many different possible sources, before they have 'had enough' to feel independent and secure. Many people, maybe up to two thirds, have never had 'enough' genuine love. That means that many people are partly looking for their love partners to love them as their parents never did. There is nothing 'wrong' with this as such, but it does make the whole issue feel more difficult. This is how it is, stated plainly and without all the jargon. Also, if our original relationships went badly, there is a lot of fear attached to revealing the real self we are to anyone. So this makes it even more difficult to get that love. And then there is the factor that we may get attracted to people who have similar problems to ourselves. All this can make the whole issue of love seem very confusing.
I have no real idea of whether your frustration about girls is "just" because you are still relatively young, or whether it is a deeper thing. Because I had to go pretty deep to discover why I kept screwing up, I tend to look at other people's problems in the same way. So it is good that Nightstalker has arrived with more straightforward and down-to-earth comments. Anyway, you will know, 'deep down' whether what I am saying has any relevance to you. And if you did ever want to explore any pain you carry about your mother, and get some of the deep nurturing you missed by her absence, a female counsellor/therapist would be ideal for you. Otherwise, time and patience might just be the key.
Actually, one thing I do know about your mother is that it is very sad, for her, that she left and missed out on watching such a good son grow up.
Diane wrote:
Everybody requires sufficient love for who they are, from their parents ideally, but from many different possible sources, before they have 'had enough' to feel independent and secure. Many people, maybe up to two thirds, have never had 'enough' genuine love. That means that many people are partly looking for their love partners to love them as their parents never did. There is nothing 'wrong' with this as such, but it does make the whole issue feel more difficult. This is how it is, stated plainly and without all the jargon. Also, if our original relationships went badly, there is a lot of fear attached to revealing the real self we are to anyone. So this makes it even more difficult to get that love. And then there is the factor that we may get attracted to people who have similar problems to ourselves. All this can make the whole issue of love seem very confusing.
honestly, diane... this about sums it up. if the lack of attention from my mother meant something towards how i felt about love and relationships, this explains it. not enough genuine love. my father played the role of both parents for several years, and that's more than i can ever ask for, but who knows if the absence of my mother made it any different. i had one lousy relationship, and it went badly for sure, so what you said also could explain a lot of things. and i don't discard this theory at all. i can't disregard it because it's very valid. i'm no stranger to studying psychology myself. i know this is right out of the playbook, but that doesn't bother me. if it's true then it's true. i won't disregard it as jargon. and perhaps i am attracted to girls with similar problems. you've heard several accounts so far! and i've got more, too.
Diane wrote:
Actually, one thing I do know about your mother is that it is very sad, for her, that she left and missed out on watching such a good son grow up.
i don't know how much of a good son i am really. i lied to my mother every time i spoke to her. our telephone relationship was based on lies. she became a holy roly, a jesus freak, a hardcore christian... and whenever we spoke on the phone i never told her about any of the bad grades i'd get in school, about how many times i upset my dad and got in trouble, never told her about how i wasn't sorry that she was gone, because i never had a strong feeling towards her after so many years, and most importantly, the biggest lie, was that when she asked me if i prayed every night, i told her that i did, when in fact every night i questioned the very existence of god and the validity of christianity as well as organized religion all together. of course, i never told either of my parents about first trying pot, about my dirty thoughts, and about the music that i liked to listen to. my dad found out about all of it sooner or later, but my mother is in the dark. completely. good son? i've known my mother for 6 years of my life. not nearly long enough to develop a strong relationship. after she left and i'd talk to her on the phone she only seemed like some distant relative. and now... she's just like some distant relative who passed away that i never really knew that well. to this day i still occassionally find out things about my mother that were something of "family secrets" because of how fucked up her side of the family was. either my dad would tell me or my aunt would tell us all because i don't even think my dad knows that many things about her. sometimes i think of how glad i am to have been severed of that relationship because it would have just been a black mark on my OWN past. hard to believe anyone could say such a thing for their own mother, i know. i mostly pity her. i don't hate her at all. i have no ill will towards her. it was just something that wasn't meant to be i guess. after it all started going downhill i witnessed and heard about things that exposed my mother for what she really was: just a frightened, confused, naive, and pathetic little girl that had all the wrong chips land on the table throughout her life. and i feel sorry for her. i truly do.
after my junior year was over sean was gone, renata was gone, and many other friends i had were gone as well because they either graduated, went back to their old high school for a "real" high school graduation, or took their placement tests to leave and either get a job or start college or just to drop out or whatever. either way, they were gone. However, there was still one girl left that I knew through renata and a few other female friends of mine. Her name was daniela. Daniela was this very short girl, had long, thick, curly hair, and always wore bandanas because she never liked to do anything with her hair and figured it’d be easier to always wear a bandana over it every day. Sometimes she’d straighten out her curls and I always liked that. The thing I loved the most about her was her eyes. They were piercing bright blue, almost like they matched the white in her eye and sometimes that can be scary-looking on some people, but I don’t know what it was… maybe the shape of her eyebrows over them, or her cheekbones or whatever, but it made her very desirable.
Daniela had been around since day one at this school and I always found her attractive, but my attention was 110% solely focused on renata. one of my closest friends at that school, besides sean, was a girl named anna. She was a crazy girl and I dug that and we got along real well. We hung out often, mostly with other girls, and I was having the time of my life there. I confided in anna one day that I was attracted to daniela and so she gave me her screen name to instant message her. And so one night I did just that. We began speaking regularly, finding a lot in common. She came from a jewish family as well. However, her family was more Hasidic. She was actually born in Israel, as well as the rest of her family. She wasn’t into it that much and that caused a lot of problems between her and her family. She had two older brothers who were studying to become rabbis, if I remember correctly. One night I was speaking to her online and she asked me if I thought she was intimidating because I hadn’t spoken to her at all for a year before this time. I told her the reason I didn’t speak to her before is mostly because I was shy, but also because I was intimidated. I thought she was very beautiful and that it was too much for me to handle and I thought that I wouldn’t be good enough for her. I didn’t tell her that, but I jokingly admitted to being intimidated in general. Then I asked her if I was intimidating because I used to go around school sometimes dressed up with makeup on and everything. She said she wasn’t afraid of the makeup thing or the way I looked in general, but she said she was intimidated by my mysteriousness.
I was talking to anna one day and I asked her if daniela had said anything to her about me. anna said, “yeah, she said ‘thank you for giving him my screen name because I’ve always wanted to talk to him but never knew how.’” I was so happy. I even asked daniela about it. She said it was true. I told her that that was exactly how I felt and that it made me blush to hear it. Daniela told me she didn’t how I’d react if she started talking to me. then I asked her if she had a boyfriend and she said she had broken up with him two weeks prior to the time we had this conversation. I guess he was in the army, came home, and instead of being with her, he had sex with some other girl who was a friend of theirs. Not only that, but he had wanted to marry her when she was 18 (she was 16, nearly 7, at the time and he was 20) and he even wanted her to start having kids already. She was not all too happy with this idea. He was going to Afghanistan anyway and things were just pretty bad so she broke it off. She said he was pretty right-wing anyway, and she was not into that at all. Anyway, during this conversation we were messing around and I came up with this couplet I think, something really ridiculous, I don’t remember what it was. Then I told her that I write a lot of poetry and had about 14 notebooks filled with it. She said she knew. I wondered how she knew… but then I remember, and this is something I forgot to mention, but just like Rachel, I let renata read some of my poetry, too. Daniela told me that sometimes when renata was reading it that she’d try to sneak a peek. I confessed to daniela that I had a major crush on renata before and she said, “every guy in the world has a crush on her.” I felt so stupid. I kind of wanted to let her borrow a book of mine so I had to tell her because there was some stuff about renata in that book. I didn’t want her coming to me going, “what is this? You liked her??” what’s funny is that I remember now when I gave renata one of my books it was the book that had aaaalll the poems and things I had written before, during, and after my relationship with maegen. Funny, huh? Well anyway, I was now giving a book to daniela with poems talking about how much I liked renata and blah blah blah. However, daniela was unaware of the reason why there was tension between renata and I and I told her about how I spilled the beans to this girl jenn that renata had a crush on her ex-boyfriend.
It was renata that told me a bit about daniela as well because they were like best friends. If daniela was having a bad day, it would make renata have a bad day because she had to deal with it and try to help her friend out, and then I’d hear about it from renata. she’d tell me that daniela would cry a lot, and that she had NO self-esteem whatsoever, and that she was always so very cynical and everything bad in the book you can think of. I wanted so badly to tell daniela that she was wrong, that she was beautiful and that she deserved so much more than how she thought of herself. Renata also told me about her family problems. One day, before ever talking to daniela, I wrote a sonnet called “Sonnet to D.T.” here it is:
You sit all alone in solitude
And you say you are worthless
Your mind has become unglued
In a world that is so earthless
Well, what you say is true
You really know yourself well
I don’t know what there is to do
But you know I can tell
Everybody’s got something for ‘em
A little love goes a long way
And I’ll tell you, I adore ‘em
‘cause they’re humans that say
“You shouldn’t worry, darling, don’t become blue
I am nobody to someone, I am just like you.”
I told her that I had written this and she seemed mixed about it. She knew the context of why I wrote it and thought renata had insulted her by talking crap about her but was also was also intrigued that I would take interest in her like that. I told her there was some stuff I had written on my computer that I wanted to let her read. It was another set of “concept-poetry,” which is what I think I used to call it, kind of like a concept album. It was this 11-poem story about a regular average guy named john doe who went from rags to riches as the ceo of a big computer company and then had his job taken over due to big corporations and hostile takeovers and then john doe crashed into oblivion. Hahaha. I actually turned it into a short story for a creative writing class I had in college. But anyway, I wanted her to read them but I couldn’t get my printer to work or something and she said, “it’s okay, I’ve already waited a year.” And I asked her, “you’ve been waiting that long just to read my poetry?” and when she confirmed, I asked, “so you’ve been interested in me since day one?” then I asked her if she was attracted to me at all because usually being intimidated and waiting a whole year to talk to someone means that you’ve got some kind of nasty crush that won’t go away, much like I had with renata, as well as her. I told her that was the reason why I didn’t talk to her at first, and she confirmed, saying she was attracted to my mysteriousness. She said, “you give off a very mysterious vibe that makes me curious as to what you're all about. i looked at it as a challenge, which i always seek to conquer.” I had my jaw dropped and I couldn’t believe someone was actually saying this to ME! right away I told her, “well shit. You’ve won. I think it’s safe to say you’ve got me down on my knees begging for mercy.”
She said, “no I haven’t. you’re still a mystery. I’ve only gotten past the first couple greetings.” The first couple of greetings was nothing. We took it a step further… but maybe it was further than she was comfortable going. I’ll get there next time.
? 
