It’s not a psychological drama….?

I suppose there’s a psychological fils. Thread. Angelita gets wrapped up, diffuses some game that makes no sense, but I guess you’d hope that a person would…leave a person who would harm a child. For me, wouldn’t be hard. That one is pretty clear. So okay, sure, I’ll protect your child…while you “figure it out.” My parents — Looney Tunes. Nothing is done in the real.

Fear is a psychological thriller. Black Swan is a psychological drama. Aronofsky. It’s not that Miracle Mile isn’t inherently psychological, but psychological scenes, what does that mean? Dr. J was one head case. I’m sure she still is. She was so crazy, I think it had an effect. But she had money. A high-powered job. My parents very much lived in “a world of appearances,” though Dr. J was so unhinged, it was a “see you at the police station later” situation, always. The appearance amazingly was practically relevant, performance art.

“I love you I love you I love you,” you never heard something say I love you more, breathy, fawning. So she bought herself a friend. Keeping her close— her best friend. She was extremely confusing. There’s a psychological haze, maybe, around Angelieta. Nothing solid. No sense. But what the fuck did she care? 12,000 a month. And this lover—what? Yeah, Dr. J talked about all that, that’s what I mean…you’re operating in a place called crazy town. This and that lover, this, so she bought herself…someone…but she not asking for her kid, so she doesn’t know what’s going on. I’m just trying to track it for her.

She continues to do this for the money, she’s going to make all sorts of assumptions about her behavior thus far when she hears this news about the father being a child molester, on the light end. The thing is, fascinating, horrible, Dr. J just lives in this world. That’s where she lives. So either for fun or truth or both, she asks this lady to protect a child for money, for doing this for her, keeping her baby safe. And then, the father behaves most strangely. He was diagnosed with dementia after all this and didn’t tell anyone…on top of it… She accepts, more money, I can only imagine. They go to DA Vinci’s, no? Bring the girls, why not, make this deal? And, why not, while we’re at it, if Nick tries to come around, we’ll play this “nice game” with him…as in “stay away,” we know…until Dr. J gets a divorce that she’ll never get. Meanwhile, Maria finally breaks down. Dr. J spins further out of control herself…coming…over another time and disturbing the house. At which point, her family will confront her. This has gone too far. She’ll confess, I think, I’m not sure if she told her kids. But then, these strange visits of his…I can’t count…it’s just this situation got there — fast. Months. And then, years later, the money starts running out. From what I understand, Dr. J made 2 million in two years…and she spent 2.5. And this is limos. Not…a house. Booze. Clothes. That too. And from what I understand, despite her strange means of operating, I think she did that solo…I remember a small staff from t time to time or people around. Well, the salary I wish I had right now, to be honest, and I hope, one fine day, even that number will be way behind me. I hope so. These people thinking I’m money bags… because I pay 1000 a month. Just please. My apartment wasn’t that nice. Crazy.

The money runs out…first with “sorry, left it in Cabo,” and Dr. J could say that, “tomorrow, next week, I swear,” whatever, to disappear behind some mysterious protector. Angelita loses it. And the situation beings to break down from there. Maybe I should write a farce. “The adventures of Dr. J.”

The situation is breaking down in some capacity, she’s spinning, she’s also dealing with guilt, perhaps, as she chooses to remain involved with this person. Honestly, though, if you think about “the games people play,” what the fuck was the point? If this was some ruse, if Dr. J wanted to get rid of her kid……..because she was jealous, according to my father, which is bizarre, I have no idea, except she lived in the world. This was her means of seeking and repelling intimacy. In one. Bombarding the priest with stories of her rapes. And psychologically, to confront, no one does. Because, it’s a repeller. It works. No one wants to deal with it. Not unless, you’re fat Alan, like I give a shit about the man’s physique. He sleeps with her because of the way she would throw herself on someone — pathetic. Where did she learn this? This is a sick woman. It’s like, sitting there, GIRL, were you beaten? You keep saying that. And you’re degrading yourself to such a point. Now…I know who my parents are. I’m just saying…like some lady throwing 12,000 dollars who cannot see straight, what conclusions can one make?

The money actually drives her ENTIRE perception. Sure, that figure drove her crazy, sure. But I’ll tell you once thing, if I was protecting some girl — I’d tell that son of a bitch — to get the FUCK off my property.

ANTHONY, right now, knows about the money…I’m laughing already…that’s Dr. J gives her while she “figures this out,” which then comes back around, when it runs out, with the husband saying the same goddamn thing. “She can stay with you,” for free, “until he figures this out.” It’s so creepy. So, at least, well, that part — supports my support, picturing this fictional version of this woman…hearing this. A father is speaking in my mind about how casual…. it’s just a touch too casual with those two. I know Dr. J cried, but so can I, on cue. Real tears. On cue.

She bounces. No one wants to send Maria to foster care, call the authorities. In the real story, I came to a couple of times in my house, at the door, this protector of Dr. J’s acting…offensively toward me. My father continues to do nothing. I call her, I can’t stay here. But in this fictionalized version because I had a month, the family is going to show up for me, basically, and they — in the real story…

In the real story, the real story, took me THIRTY YEARS. These pieces I had didn’t connect. So when…they did…that was horrifying. She sent me home with them a couple of times. But she’s getting 12,000 dollars. I guess. Or she wants to believe, seriously speaking, that they are trying to work it out, and it’s not her kid, and I’m beginning to dance, expertly. but I can’t sleep there. Do I have clothes there? And I don’t know if what I blocked out corresponds to what was I went through…but then, look, I suppose from her perspective, that got royally messed up. So, fine, she gave me a bunch of money, sure, it wasn’t a million dollars, but still, and then, she tells me he’s terrible, so sure, thanks for the money, how generous, I’ll do this, and then, this situation continues to appear really really weird. With Dr. J — there’s no trust. You cannot trust her. And this woman went around this circle, because, look, dancing backwards, if she’s — where am I? This lady is gone. She’s so addicted to drugs, she reached a whole new level…that was really something.

Angelita, desperate, starts dropping me off. I came to once. I had blank spots. Like what am I doing here? I would call her. Of course, who else am I doing to call? So she would have to pick me up. And, my father…she tells him…your wife lied about that…about you...so she agreed to keep me now, in a state of guilt over what she did to him, that…she’ll do it for free. And now, when I remember my father telling me he couldn’t afford her, I understand what he meant. And there was never enough money, you see, this entire situation was a scarcity model. Think about it. This was scarcity 101. Like I mean, level one. Bitch, I want my 12,000 dollars! I would get a real apartment, easy. New goal. 12,000 dollars. Dave Chappelle….laughing at that amount. Bless him. Jeez, people. come from so many scenarios. Rich, poor, terrible, subtly, I don’t know, but I’m just reaching a point…I’m in another country…probably, the wise advice would have been to stay in the states, but I hope I’ll sell an idea, at least a chance, which might propel me forward…

Anyway, she can’t send me home. Since there’s trouble there. Of course I went into a blank rage, lady. I cut that bitches phone chords — snap, snap, snap. Then, I got the white out. It was blank. I got up, I was alone in this bedroom, and I calmly walked into office — got out the scissors. The white-out. And I painted over everrrryyy key. Cut every chord. I didn’t feel anything.

THAT’S WHEN ANGELITA invites my father over.

Somewhere around here.

Meanwhile, my father’s cognition was — the wires were zany. I have to apologize to them. When this lady put your child in this situation. Looking at me disappointed.

This whole period took time.

So, NICK, she says, she lied.

There was a day I officially went home.

But I stayed with her while he “figured this out…”

And due to her guilt, she allowed it.

Now, I just rearranged the order…so the husband, wherever he was, must grapple with a lot…I don’t really know what to say, but if my partner — I would just say this person has gone temporarily insane. In this crazy story. The thing is, four years is not nothing. Maybe to some romantic relationships, but family or familial relationships have a real material. It’s also somewhat, I think, fundamental in mental health…even connection basically. What else was she going to do in the real? She didn’t want to send me to foster care…so she sent me home with him. So, I don’t know what to look BACK. I could make some comedic version of some matriarch named Dr. J who is a con artist, who’s playing games, trying to make amends, and I’m in some stylized world. I could try that ride. Think of an actor — insert her in. She could be a spy. Since Dr. J supposedly is involved with them…truly. Maybe the relationship would be hilarious. Some mother daughter showdown. We’re kicking the shit out of each other. Everyone wants to see it. Cool locations. That’s for certain.

For now, I’ll think about this family. They’re going to attempt to adopt her? Good luck.

Anyway, apparently, there is a probable reality already in existence — spinning up material — in which I get the idea to the next step. So that’s the path. And I intend to get there.

Look at these hilarious clothes I saw.

Okay, then this bag, I don’t know where I’m going, but maybe as an idea…lol.