I didn’t need help. This was a plague that followed me exclusively in the United States. It’s embarrassing. The second I stepped foot back into the United States, these stupid warlocks for men appeared, and “help” was worse than the story itself. Heed my words. There is academic literature written about the subject. Because I came from a background, and maybe I had a personality, I cannot even stomach writing these lines — these men inserted themselves into my lives, unsafely, literally. Be real.
I had money in the bank. I didn’t need help. I needed someone to say that. Looking back on my friends, I grain away, only because the choices I made, they made, they were stupid. They weren’t ambitious people, they weren’t money hungry, sinking their teeth into the exercise of life. And so, now, I find myself at 39, needing to start over having had to go through some man’s esoteric Ubu Roi belief system that didn’t apply to me at all. I didn’t need manifestation help from some arrogant man.
And now, I can’t get comfortable, not now, at a time where I wish I sort of could. Help, this was such a curse. Even the guy who invested my money in crypto, he lost all my money, practically, as that tanked — did I look like someone with money to lose? There seemed to be no practically minded, grounded, sober, people. I hate the guru, hate the slytherin, all these unreal people. The slythering suggested I write for this publication, well, now, the choices I made — I’m finding it difficult to get real work. “Where do you want to go, and how do you get there?” Now I’m asking myself that question. Who gives a shit about “what do you wanna know?” That doesn’t make any sense. MEANING, what subject are you interested in? Is that the question? And the guru is putting on a SHOW, indeed, since he put that on me, asshole, of miming a chalboard, wanting to TEACH ME — why??? Why me? Some woman he met at a cafe. “Family,” he says, “I would circle it.” THANKS for that useless direction. I was acting stupid. Listening to these men.
I get up angry, still, sometimes, around transition points, because I’m starting again from scratch, and I never thought I would be hurt this deeply, hurt by these idiotic men, and sometimes, yeah, I do feel like writing his sister a note — not thanking her at all for introducing me to those WEIRDOS. Her brothers are total weirdos. She should have seriously reconsidered it. So I might. Sometimes, I think, I’m going to tell her. They were weirdoes and they royally affected my life. So now I have to serve tables, because of the decisions I made there. Meditation was not my problem. Manifestation was not my problem. I did not need HELP. I hated these men. Just disempowering a person. And so, I drove through this America shitshow. A true shitshow of Harry Potter. Where magic wands are waved. Why the profession of writing inspired movie dreams, or something, I do not know. Out of all the professions. I never felt like my life would be so harmed, that I would be so harmed, no offense, but the psychedelics, I do not understand why you brought some girl from Paris into this? My ex. I just couldn’t believe myself, that I was getting involved…. with this weird guy fishing for a wife. That’s all he was doing. Not my problem.
So I start a new job today, I have to move on from step one, I have to rebuild from step one, and no offense, but money isn’t always that easy to make. You know? I felt knocked down by these rich white men, yeah. Like control yourselves. I can’t even comment on my actions because I came from a real background, in fact, jerks, which no one took seriously, no one treated appropriately, and there were drugs involved as this slytherin was a glorified drug addict. Sure, a genius. I’d seen it before. That genius was pretty stupid from my standpoint now. But these men had money… the slytherin in particular got lucky as he aligned himself with someone who knows crypto, I mean, for real, as in, he made that man a lot of money, enough to live at the Carlyle for 50k a month, for a while. Some years there. If I could get that, even a few months, 10, I would recuperate what I lost. This was my path, it was not filled with luck, the contrary. I did not get lucky at all. My beauty didn’t even… register to me…because of how I was treated. Don’t help. I was not the person to HELP.
So now, I need to hustle, I need to rebuild from scratch. I have to approach writing a book sensically, not projecting myself to a future point and downloading information. Maybe I will write Leslie a note, like I give a shit, their sister. Their rich sister. Could anyone have suggested contacts? Meeting peopole? As that’s how you get jobs…? I’m just saying since these men wanted to help me. That guru, that was a path that almost killed me, and his behavior was utterly insane. He acted like a crazy person. I had enough of those. So that’s it this morning, not wanting to linger, I’m taking a deep breath, because I can’t seem to finish this book, because I regretfully, the past ten years, that was a terrible waste, and I keep trying to turn it into anything useful, valuable, as I didn’t deserve these men, I’m sorry. Now, with the slytherin, I would say, I don’t get involved with drug users like that. It’s not my scene. If you’d like to get tea, outside your room, sure. This is too strange. I don’t even understand it. And the guru deserved a slap across the face. Why that man pointed at me across a room like a guru — shaking his finger — life is about what you wanna knooooow, knooooow, he kept repeating that, not what you wanna do. WHY? He didn’t even know me. That was so disrespectful to the point that I cannot even believe that I didn’t throw something at him. So maybe I will write a little note to their sister.
“Hey, I wish you never introduced me to your brothers. They have major problems, Leslie. That cost me a decade of my life, their obsession with manifestation, meditation, whatever that was. Your brother, David, he pointed to me across a room the first time we met — disrespectfully — knoooooooww, knoooooow, what do you wanna knoooooow, life is not about what you wanna do, it’s about what you wanna knowwwwww… your other brother, Adam, he said, within minutes of having some kind of hypnotherapy session with him, that in the 15th century, I would have been the one to speak to animals.” Ridiculous. And so, I needed to confront that. That was dark. He encouraged me to spend my IRA money because it didn’t matter, money didn’t matter. Can you imagine? I could just make it back. And now, I’m starting over. I fell for a real routine. David called a fictional character in my draft “a really good psychological device.” I heard from Sam, that you thought it was a bad idea to introduce me to your brothers because they would fall in love with me? Is that true? I really wish you didn’t. You know, Adam told me a story about how David took Adam’s hand, when they were kids, and started punching Adam with it. “Why are you hurting yourself?” Adam thought this was wise. That’s a bit of a snapshot of how I felt in that relationship. What he did, opening me up, getting into my private affairs, was unsafe. He presented himself as a guru, expert. I’m not joking.
I said, I met a chef, on the way to lunch one day. He said, “the theme here is nourishment.” Imagine? “I’m always feeding you,” you says, when I thought we had a recurring lunch date. During my book draft, he kept saying THEY FEED YOU THEY FEED YOU (my cousins) indirectly (or maybe directly) manipulating me into concluding I wasn’t fed as a young child, that’s what he was implying. What he did was so crazy, I can’t even go there. I did not deserve that. “They feed you.” What does that have to do with a draft? So that relationship royally impacted me, adversely. He got a weird hard on over some woman who happened to come from a background. This man had no right, none.
So here I am emoting, here I am just wanting to be heard, actually. So I might. I might write her because I’m so appalled, forget angry. Appalled. “In the 15th century,” Adam says, “you would have been the one to speak to animals.” He gave me channeler tapes. I was just a young woman in a cafe, you know? Please tell them that they have major problems. If they think that’s an appropriate way to speak to women, they’ve got major problems. Please, do not introduce young women, especially attractive, especially if they might be VULNERABLE, as I was, it turns out, to THEM, that’s right, as Sam said, both of them. I might, I really might.
I keep telling myself, I can turn my life around when I didn’t need to back then, I did, I needed to turn the wheel sensically, and I didn’t. These men with nothing to lose! I did. They had nothing to lose. I had everything to lose. I had money. Sure I wasn’t a millionaire, but I had money. That was not the time to get wrapped up in all that bullshit, quite frankly, that I didn’t even realize I was in, which astounds me, it does, but I didn’t WANT any of it. Why would I? Why would I want channeler tapes? Be real. Do you see women getting wrapped up in this bullshit? Telling me I’m psychic. I spit on you. Fuck you. Now I have to rebuild, and I would like to build high. I’d like to reach high. I don’t know what that means, I don’t know how to do that yet, but I’m going to try, but I feel so tired, I really do. That decade was so unnecessary, exhausting, lethal. The slytherin farted on the phone at me, imagine?
So I don’t know what to say about a book, um, I’m not having the easiest time, which was not the moment to say WHY ARE YOU MAKING IT HARD ON YOURSELF, that was not the time. Maybe you need to read? Maybe it’s not for you? Maybe you need to give yourself more time and space? Get a job. There was no reason, no reason why I couldn’t work, and yet, that didn’t cross my mind. A real job. Not writing, or finding a job writing, sure, but one that would set me up — well. Writing for the psychedelic company, that wasn’t the right move, and the slytherin even, when we didn’t speak anymore, he was on the phone — imagine? With my boss, letting ME know that they were demoding me? Look, assholes, both of you, I never said I had experience on this end of things, and why was this necessary?? You can’t have a conversation, Jackee? You see? How twisted and strange this became real fast? That was the Chelsea Hotel. Where I’m working my ass of, for what reason? Exactly? And in the end, the slytherin called me during the protests, when I quit over racism, literally, three women on the phone with me talking about racism. And he calls, “I don’t want you to go through anymore pain?” What are you talking about?
I didn’t need this. I truly didn’t. So I’m hating them this morning. Hate them. I have to think about writing a note, really, to the guru’s sister. I probably will. And just keep it very simple, like WHY would he talk to a young woman like that? WHY? There’s nothing appropriate about it. If he lies, smile at him, for me. And tell him, you’re just like “your father,” I take it, and also, my mother. My mother was soooo inappropriate. I wasn’t rich, I didn’t have the resources to play these sorts of games.