Who cares? There are many beautiful days…to come. I’m inside — went for a long walk — along the sea… just taking a breather, working through a last bit of anxiety that stirs itself around time. My father. That man was insane. I meditated on approaching the exercise as if it’s already done. I just have to get there. I think the music book, or it being a once upon a time in that direction is the right one. Thank God for Photoshop. At least I can erase things easily.
On my walk, I thought, I think I need to change the language around the story to be a bit more heartfelt…more about this family…their humor, especially this mother, who would freak out — hilariously — or LOOK at me going through it all like “oh my God,” while snapping at kids still, just a totally touching, hilarious, heartbreaking picture. They are a tennis family…so I have to reorganize my thoughts to make sure the joy note is clear. Penelope Cruz dancing like that is right. Heavenly Creatures is right too — for my mother. Even the father. I like the images with De Niro cracking up unrealistically and the figure at the door. It was somewhat monstrous, but from her perspective, that’s what…a child molester is.
It was beyond that, my mother said things that were…untrue…I mean, I had to hang on…just because no one has any knowledge about the human body…no one even thinks to ask so I have no idea what to say about what I physically went through, but I’ll seek out expert advice at a later time. Just cause, maybe these people did send me this stupid message that hit me right in the gut in the middle of all these realizations, I don’t know, it was just chillingly perfect timing…and it did hit me in the gut. And then, I went through the most terrible time of my life, blocks of stone moved — that was the sensation — and I wonder what a repression expert, since I found one, would say about what I went through. I started feeling things beforehand that I didn’t understand while I was writing and sort of waking up, so what do I do with that? I hung onto that lie so tightly, for dear life, like it was, wasn’t it? I sort of grain away… because even the facts or the pieces, since that was the experience, have always been the same, but I didn’t really have a through line…it was a revelation that I was so young, oh, I was a vulnerable person. I might not have known what was going on…just terrifying. That aside, people seemed to suggest that the body isn’t truthful… so…still working that out. Thanks. Tale as old as time. I’m alright. I’ve never been better, actually, even if I had to tidy up my life, put some things away, separate myself from some people… “it’s not personal.”
I think on my walk I thought, the Stranger Things people did something very simple. Music is clearer, stronger, and once you start reading about the story, it’s going to strike the right note…emotional. This is an emotional story. So I’ll make sure I use that word on that intro page. But it’s the utterly inspirational nature of this group of people —flawed, human, that goes without saying, but this mother cannot stomach the thought, you see, of an abusive father — particularly a child molester, rapist, since she also called him that, but that all stuff was around me since that was my mother’s frame of mind, so — I heard that people can process this…as real? If it was around them? Really? That blew me away. Enough to go talk to people. Only because…the facts remain the facts… creepy doesn’t even begin to describe it. She can’t - Penelope Cruz - stomach the thought, and sure, her fierce venom, you see, this was a fierce woman, what do you think a figure like that is going to inspire? Something. I don’t know what to say. Sure, take this lunatic for some stupid ride, knocking on their door. I suppose one would expect that my mother wrapped her up in all sorts of sob stories — confusion. It’s a “nice tactic.” My mother was a super sick woman…in terms of asking “if she knew what she was doing” I think a cop would say “yes.” It’s time to wake up and smell the coffee lady.
The whole thing was deranged.
And then, it’s true, my father’s behavior was beyond bizarre.
But in any case, I have to shift this language to be about the lot of them. In thinking about St. Elmo’s Fire, wasn’t too off there, so “we got through this” together, who cares about sleeping with my fiancee? Or like punching me at some bar?” Taking some drugs, going bankrupt. We were never not friends lol. If there was ever some movie that merited some “family video” treatment, a sexy sax, it would be them, so funny, so touching, and they’re super talented. It’s a very talented group of people.
Their strength or athleticism turns out to make structural sense. Because they’re going to get her through THIS and they’re a caring lot. Maybe for the mother, there’s a dark side to that, but then, shadow is shadow, what can you say? It exists. In my mother’s case, there IS no shadow, so there’s only darkness, you see, just because, if you have a sense of these things, you can size people up very quickly. Large shadow.
I can distribute that sort of knowledge across this group of people… or MARIA might have a VoiceOver, I thought, that might help carry the audience through what she’s learning… but it’s the lyrics, I think, since it’s all about the love songs. “Sometimes I am frightened,” lol, “but I’m ready to learn…the power of love…” that comes toward the end… I had to laugh, you know, going through this… there’s nothing wrong with that release… people looking at me like that’s so odd— how would you feel? Right? Graining away. With so much unreality. With so much, I mean, from what I’ve heard, a real child molester can a, not inspire real action, and b, feel unreal.
But this group of people — with this amazing and hilarious mother — are going to get through this.
Their cultural make-up is historical.
Plus, it’s true, the father came from a rather conservative Jewish upbringing as well. So if you think about “the power of love,” that they fell so deeply in love (Danny and Sandy) — that’s what it is. I might throw in Nina lol, just to make you laugh, next to Troop Beverly Hills, “it’s also sort of this,” some — Long is too real, actually, but a fashionista, meets a woman who dances sexy regardless. That’s her natural state of being.
I can pivot it in a “the power of love” direction. Or just to be more about them finding themselves in this situation. Which it is, but I think I have to adjust some of that language. Find themselves in a totally other situation. But money works, abut then, Maria has problems, and then, Dr. J says he’s a child molester.
How long had I been there? Did they already work out the permanent arrangement? No, it can’t be, because my father would be gone for some weeks, so that’s all true. So that’s weeks. I don’t have to explain. Thankfully. It just happened so fast. I mean, I’m going to have to fictionalize these phone calls… my mother was one piece of work, that’s truly true. But I’ll keep the “nice game” under wraps from the husband. As well as keeping “the info” about the father under wraps for the moment—to the kids. I mean, those kids were always practicing, they were constantly training and playing — if you want to go pro… that’s the deal. These family parties are events, so scenes happen…that’s all fine.
In any case, I feel I have the right to — be a parent for myself — and go…what? What was this? I guess I was pretty scared. Just my snarl at JOSE. Crazy baby. A totally hilarious brat, I guess, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that… given that…I wasn’t bathed all the time, or something? I mean, just weird, but then, Dr. J was so weird, that weird, so I don’t quite know what to say about this strange universe for real.
Maybe I’ll make MARIA more strangely problematic. HELLO?! This mother stomping into the room. EXCUSE mE? Do you EAT? Snapping at me. I don’t know these details. I know I “pointed at things” and demanded birthday parties, but I really don’t understand how that happened if I started living with her in a snap, overnight, this is on the personal front.
I experienced it like that. Overnight. She confirmed that. But, then, it raises obvious questions. I just, as seems to be the case with this one, don’t know if “the answer” is going to make anyone feel reassured. Like, maybe she threw a party, I don’t know, maybe we went shopping with her, once, I don’t know, I have no recollection. Maybe Gabriela bought me clothes I actually wanted to wear because I just hated those dresses. Just a total alien, my mother. So yes, for the purposes of this, I’ll readjust the story to put this family forward as hilarious and capable of getting someone through this.
Someone who gets manipulated.
Look, I don’t know what to tell you, but temporary insanity exists as a plea for a reason. It really does. And in her case, I don’t think anybody is going to go, hm, that makes no sense. AND THEN, can you imagine? SHE SAID. AND THEN, she said. AND THEN, she came over to my house without a top. Mad. And the way she handled me disturbed this lady…but WHEN did this happen? I remember one birthday party at my house. You just have to keep in mind that I didn’t have my own bed…so I don’t know what to say, because at least for a while, I didn’t sleep there, though I don’t understand WHY I did. Blocked these memories out, for sure. WHY? Waking up, am I here? Once in the 1st grade? Why am I here? Where is my father? WHAT am I doing here? This woman didn’t COOK, did I eat? These are the questions you have to ask — kicking this woman in the face — the Brazilian mother wants me to — like who gives a SHIT if she doesn’t, that’s your responsibility you freak. You see? I was young. I don’t know about “these times.” These “couple of times.” Might have been four? in total?
“We’re trying to work it out,” what the hell are you talking about? My father’s responses four years later were utterly ludicrous.
“We were trying to make it work…”
I remember we did some weird ass photo op at this French prep school — where my mother suddenly showed up in a limo with my father… like his pity, his pitiful nature, oh my child doesn’t — I cannot wrap my head around these feelings, no offense, because I had no idea what was going on… I’m living in another house. I’m not 20. I am unable to fill out a college application. I’m at a basic level, still. And then, you have to wonder, “man,” do…does this type of person… not get that a child IS YOUNG? That they don’t WANT THIS??? You see? How this woman could lose her mind? Across the board. Some pitiful excuse at her door, seriously, and it’s interesting actually. Putting his character in this scenario with direct action coming back at him… I have nothing. I really don’t. It just an apparition. No response.
I wonder if I was punched, actually, I know, since the sensation in my gut took me years…I couldn’t eat, until I admitted to myself that it was real…I don’t know, that was rather mysterious. I just don’t know what to do with any of it. I suppose I felt that way? I can’t quite wrap my head around the physical — the truly — nature of that time in my life… was I drugged? I mean, I shrug, at this point, just because, well, if she’s putting alcohol in my burger, then…I saw pills, for example, but I don’t know if they were around me since she was a drug addict, or what… but I had this moment of being like — why WHY am I seeing BLUE PILLS?
I’m seeing BLUE PILLS. With SENSATIONS.
This was my experience.
Sure, “she wouldn’t,” wink, but like, uh, why did this woman “teach me” how to throw up…? Please. Looking at her. I just thought, look lady, I ain’t doing it, but uh, what the fuck is this? She was one messed up person… and she seemed to want to be the most messed up person at the same time that she wanted to be the biggest genius on Earth. No one wants to be in this scenario at four. I assure you. And now, you see, how this mother and I could end up in laughing fits, or she could make me start laughing by cursing this woman’s existence. Just letting it rip. This is what this mother found herself in.
She’s the stork that snatched a baby back—quick.
Maybe someone can help me understand a child that young. In that kind of environment. I’m sure, unfortunately, kids go through all sorts of things, so maybe someone can help me understand some of this basically speaking. Meaning, why did I see blue pills? You see? And like, this escort of hers told me that she was a drug addict at the end of my twenties, giving me some ridiculous speech about “you need to know everything?” When I was living with a drug addict, dude. So now, let’s skip over to my father who left me alone with this person… for almost 2 months. When I’m 4. With a woman putting on dying displays, I mean. Who we’re picking up at the cops. Damn. Looking over at my father — what’s going on over there? This “nice guy” routine. I am 4. I thought I could operate a vehicle, but I couldn’t. No one at the DMV, if I even had the attention span, is going to give me a license. I can’t even reach the gears yet. I can’t help that I was 4. I KNEW things. I assure you!
I think my displays are so funny because I am 4. Where am I going to go? My eyes on that door — I’m busting out. Hiding. Getting ready to make a run for it. Ridiculous. Pushing open screen doors… I wasn’t a scared baby, but I guess I was.
That’s to share a little of what I went through… and I was so scared for people out there, because as they say, if that was my situation, you know what I mean? If I was lucky then what about other kids out there? Who are abused, even, and then end up in another house that does this to them… what the fuck.
In a mental health hospital, someone should be able to deal with trauma. Is there anyone there? Didn’t look like it. So I would insert a person. I observed all these people, I don’t typically approach things from the position of I know, so what’s going on with these people? I don’t know what their stories are…but that’s mine.
So anyway, I’m looking forward — right? — to bringing this story to life.
Anyway, I’m off.
Thanks.