I suppose the joke would be: I met a lawyer, I had to, the key to solving all my problems. And it was in front of me the whole time as it usually the case. I just needed to meet a lawyer. You know? That wasn’t hard. Not an artist, no, not a strange older man seeking to “help me” “realize my life” — yikes — or “help me with my career he knows nothing about.” I just needed to get that relationship sorted.
Also, in my case, having a lawyer handy is good protection—no one is going to try anything funny here. Not when he’s atached to like 300 lawyers. I come with one but really 300 — pointing an extinguisher at YOU. BACK OFF. He’s telling me: record all conversations, please remark any strange details in his house (like the portrait of a distressed woman, right? He liked that, lol) follow him if you must. “Self defense.”
No problem coming up with an argument. Not in my case.
I needed to get this relationship sorted, but of course, my problem overall was: pursue. Action. Not thought. I have enough of a problem NOW because of the sci-fi logic I absorbed. What about, a nice guy? A normal nice guy.
It’s just, the relationships I got into, wow, they were strange. These men were extremely weird. Like, why did these people getting involved in my life in the way that they did?
So there, I feel this mother inside of me start to reflect on that, as I had to get in touch with this archetype inside myself, and though the Zen Master Sybil tried DESPERATELY to get me TO GET ANGRY, if she had said, “I want you to think about what YOU would have done if you were a mother…” that might have sunk in.
But I could get wrapped up, where I really didn’t want to. I didn’t want any of that. I didn’t want to get that involved. Overall. I didn’t want the slytherin to call me every day, as he did, once I moved into the Chelsea, like every day. It disturbed me. Only because it sounded strange, “am I bothering you?” And he had a tone, one I detected in other scenarios, one I didn’t understand. The Hollywood guru was a manipulator. He was emotionally manipulative, extremely emotional in his delivery of words.
They should reflect on that. These were manipulators. At least, the slytherin, he knows that, he knows he can be manipulative. Most people aren’t speaking in cutesy squeaky tones. Did he LIKE me? The slytherin. Now, exhausted, my lawyer boyfriend laughing already, “I do not CARE nor ASSUME that someone likes me, I get it, I was LADY GAGA amazing etc. but evidently they weren’t interested,” and here comes Gary, my other friend, “weird men,” but I didn’t understand their interest.
I seemed like???? A cool person? Young? I assure you, I’m a bit of a tough mother, in that, I was not young. I was not that young. Relax. I was thirty.
With these types, I don’t necessarily think they had to go in that direction, it’s just, with the so-called wise screenwriter, he disrespected me at HELLO, literally! So did my old professor, the one I got involved with at HELLO. Not people to get closer to. That was at hello with that guy, the wise screenwriter who would probably pull some kind of innocent man routine though he knows he pointed at me utterly bizarrely after ONE outting and started acting like a lunatic. In his mind: wiseman. In anyone else’s mind, sitting there: lunatic. That was a NO at HELLO. Now, the slytherin: proceed with caution. I didn’t need geniuses, goddammit.
But anger, rage, since the Zen Master Sybil said, that’s a problem with me. It extends beyond getting upset with someone, though that I needed to do, because people will manipulate the SHIT out of you, they really really will. EVERYONE thinks they have the full picture, everyone thinks they have the absolute truth. And who gives a shit? This was the point. YOU’RE WRONG, to these men. Fuck you. Majorly.
Anger, that’s a boundary thing. Being able to assess if someone is crossing lines. Being able to stay in your own space. Being able to say, “no offense,” do NOT text me on Facebook from another country! I do not want to be in a long-distance relationship, NOPE. Um, was I attracted to ANY of this? I do not know what that word even MEANS anymore. No. Unconscious operation. I got to a point, where I thought, I have no idea who this is. It was scary. Yeah, boundaries. I might not have been the person to give drugs to, where boundaries dissolve… further… no?
I would like to say I learned something, but guess what? Not really. I didn’t really get anything out of it, except some understanding that you can have psychic experiences. Cool. That did not help me gain any clarity on my life at all. To me, personally, at least a psychologist is DIRECT. They should be. Like, looking back at this psychologist I got involved with? Um, hello? “WHY, at the age of thirty,” that’s where I am at, “are you living for FREE? You can’t afford your own place? But you’re paying ME 400 dollars an hour? Can you tell me, please, what SENSE this makes?”
GOAL ONE, fuck trust, “Get your own place. Get a job. NOT with these people. Keep them on the outskirts. You want to have CASUAL friends, sure, there are different types of friendships…” you gotta go — into the world, and begin to make peace with the truth of the matter—everybody makes their own life. I don’t know why that point caused me heartache, like, people get caught here, it’s really true. “Do you want to be the type of person that LIFE happens TO,” because I was “so open,” and I am so OVER IT, “or do you want to be the type of person who MAKES their own life, you’re going to have to MAKE that happen.”
So I don’t know what to say, except I had to get enabled left and right, and go through a terribly painful experience with so-called mental health experts, even.
So, I have guards up, down, up, just meeting the world in a new way. I am aware I’m making choices, so I’m trying to make sure I’m very aware. So I’m taking it slow with this lawyer, which is totally fine, and he’s a different person, if that makes sense, a different type of guy, and so, that can trigger a little chaos, which isn’t HIS problem, so he will never know, but I keep reasoning with myself, right? That I’m just getting to know someone if not something else.
With all this self-aggrandising I was apart of, no offense, like, I was Joan Didion, could be, over a book, or a writing career? OKAY? Drugs involved. Or, “medicine.” I just go, a nice guy, sounds really refreshing. Nice, easy, pretty simple guy. (For now.) And me? Yeah, I think I’m actually a catch, sure, I don’t want to put my shit on him, no thank you, so I’ll deal with that on my own… I do understand that a relationship is about mutual growth, like you’re both going to grow, that’s what I think.
The rest? I truly don’t care. I want to have a group of girlfriends, that I go out with, that sounds fun. Building that. I hope what I’m doing now will work out, I get scared, mostly, sometimes, on most mornings. But the thing is, this guru, since I seriously had to work out my mind, it’s NOT that big of a deal. It’s not—why are you TELLING YOURSELF, whatever. “Just keep going.” A small dose of fear I think, might actually be positive, because you’re putting yourself out there… and, I might a nice guy, he’s doing well in his career, I guess, I can’t totally follow, but he’s sort of emo, haha, I think, which is funny to me, I think, but okay, cool. I’ll keep putting myself out there, yeah, date, meet. So, you, me. I obviously had to find the resources within myself to be able to give myself what I needed. I was someone who needed basic… basic, guidance. People live their lives…in the way they want to.
But, for me, I’m just a normal person, just a person, cool, maybe I will end up meeting… here we go… a Duke? Sure! Since this professor of mine believed I should live in a castle? Like I was a character in a novel. And now, I feel like I was so broken down, in a way, that I’m SO normal, you know? I’m so so normal. There isn’t anything special about me, right now. I’m just sitting in that.
Is this what celebrities go through? Hilariously? Like, Jesus Christ, they felt SO UNREAL? Confused? Coming to need to go to the woods and remind themselves that they were the DWEEB in middle school? The person the acting teacher said, “you suck,” and they said, “who gives a shit?” You see what I mean?
I’m just a person. It’s really really strange.
(The lawyer lol just behind me, no? Just listening to all this?)
I’m sort of going, I’ll keep going, I hope I’ll break ground, real ground, goddammit, and be able to build. It’s like, is the first guy you go out with in your life — the last? I mean, depends, but probably not. So I’m sort of feeling like I’m in the place I wish I was at eighteen. Even 21. Where I wanted to meet someone? Where I WANTED. So that was a small lifetime. It’s not that I didn’t meet people… it’s just a different attitude. Positive. That’s actually what positive means. It’s a directional thing, who cares if you have dark moments, or you struggle sometimes, even, or you can get negative, even, that’s not that big of a deal with me, that sounds normal. I was NOT a loner. That’s not who I am, actually. I was watching a big group celebrating someone’s birthday I think at a restaurant, and that’s one of my personal goals. I want that type of life. That’s abundance to me.
You go out on dates… you get to know one another… and all this fantasy just disappeared. I definitely went through a break down, just to — want to kill this guru, for real, because WHAT was he DOING? THINK about it. If I came to understand I was ABUSED somewhere, I don’t know what to say, which is what the sexual trauma specialist said, though “people describe something like that…” that was a whole life thus far. Then, the slytherin truly, he farted at me on the phone, imagine? After I got out of the hospital? So whether or not he sent me that message that threw me over an edge, I’m sitting cushily at, “probably.” And I came from a sex scandal, you see, when I was four, where my mother treated me “unimaginably,” and that’s what our mutual friend said about this guy. “Sometimes he can treat people in unimaginable ways.” He might want to reflect on that?
THAT’s where I ended up. With my best friend wanting to kill politicians, for real, to enact change after the George Floyd protests. Amazing. Dark times. Then, he wants to play a character that doesn’t exist — in my draft — he wants to be my manager? He seemingly unconsciously communicated to ME that he had a hard time with ME doing well? I’m sorry?? I just moved into an apartment that was unnecessary to move into, this stupid guru living on some GOLD chair in the sky, telling me fictional characters are “really good psychological devices!” Then, this guy, “as your manager…” when I don’t do anything that requires a manager.
I needed Dave Chappelle to help me through that, yes, the comedian. “Is this Selena talk?” Please, Mr. Chappelle! Help! What am I looking at?!! As your manager, with a belitting hand. And I’m just trying to move into an apartment, and listen to this. I gave him my apartment to decorate, because I thought that’s what he did, now, so “I couldn’t pay him, and sorry,” I even apologized, but I wanted to “share this” as I felt I was moving up in the world? And then, I basically paid 5,000 for paint, I borrowed HIS furniture, so he could… do what he wanted. I had to pull the plug.
So I looked around, and I thought, wait, I spent 5k to borrow his furniture. What sense does that make? Maybe he would have gifted it to me, in the end? But you see how nonsensical that was? To be told, as YOUR manager… you know? I was thinking, you could maybe pitch what you did, right? Maybe you can use this space to — I’m nice no? He furnished a whole house for 3k from IKEA. That was nonsensical. And at that point, I was going through so much, so when he joked about being a drug addict, and I collapsed, in this new apartment, I hadn’t even moved in, I thought, shit, fuck, my mother was a drug addict. Now, if you JOKE about being a drug addict with me — beware. Because I will get mean, in your face.
Go do drugs, do whatever the fuck you want to, do not come up to me and PLAY some stupid game. You want to be a drug addict? Joking about being a drug addict because someone had a TALK to him the night before, obviously, and he was seeking the wrong type of support. Let me tell you as someone who doesn’t have a problem with drugs, do what you want, do not come up to me and say “drug addicts are on a higher plane of consciousness,” which he did, so I reached a bit of a breaking point there. Now — marksman. I have fantastic aim. Psychic skills. I am Professor X’s protegee and I have been told I can “see into people’s souls…” imagine???
For real!
And in the movie, I can’t always handle it (wow, wow, the critics will say, wow) seeing into souls… I need, Professor X will have to call on the X-Men to help me brace my collapse, in a chair, and I will make room for the ghost of Barbara Harris, which Professor X can attest is the case, true, and sometimes you can see her pink glow, something like this. And Professor X will deliver a truly moving monologue, and he will give me the tools to filter out some of that. He will tell me, indeed, “this is a gift… you just have to figure out how to use it…” I have to laugh. I have to make fun. I guess if I had had the experience of my whole life just flourishing as a result of all that talk, that would be one thing. Holy, I really got mixed up.
A lawyer? Yup, heard it before. I spoke to my friend’s father who was a lawyer after this whole debacle. Here’s the thing, “this guy he broke into her apartment,” no problem, “taped her phones…” obviously. I laughed. Regardless, you know, there was chaos, but he did seem to hear me, like, “I’m not so sure about that friend,” even if he didn’t break into her house. So he sort of saw through some of the mess of that.
What we do know, if I do ever need a manager? Not calling that guy. Like, really? You want to be my manager? Right? And, at the time, I was just a writer! So what manager? My assistant? Hadn’t even finished a book! And now I’m in MOVIE LAND? Because some dipshit, no offense, but just to PUNCH that one out of the water, some SCREENWRITER (ooohhhhh) said, yeah cool, I’ll read some of your pages, I’m not — in movie land, like, now, I might try some screenwriting, but I’m not calling that person, I’m not asking that person to do anything, right?
That was an amazing disaster, that year I decided to write a book, Jesus. They were coming at me from all angles, truly, the SECOND I started to make a real reach. The GURU was a total lunatic, I do not know why… my psychologist a JOKE, no offense. My best friend — in looney tunes. I myself started to go through wild experiences. And at the outset, it was rather simple: what you’re doing is making me uncomfortable. Please, do not tell me “you create your own reality…” or that everything that happens to you, you want, like all you have to do is go INSIDE to fix anything happening on the outside? I couldn’t communicate. The guru was a true lunatic that I got WRAPPED UP in, yikes. Now I grain away like, you’ve got problems, dude, real problems with women that you are attracted to. Don’t bullshit me. He’s a good bullshiter.
So, what can I say? My parents were so crazy. THEN, the slytherins returned. I asked for my money back and some random message came through my website. The GURUS are saying, YOU ATTRACTED THE MESSAGE from the ETHER to deliver yourself the FINAL BLOW? WHAT BLOW? Then this asshole, guru, tells me, “you were repressed for a long time,” after this fucking deranged exchange! I’m telling you man, if it’s true I’m sososososososososo psychic — if we can telelpathically communicate, let it be know I have reached out to the MOST powerful people in the world, on the psycho spiritual plane, for assistance. Okay?
That’s my latest joke. President Barack Obama and I have had some great convos about all this. Picturing what HE would do in these situations he would never be in. The final blow? This guy was — coercion. Not so much threats, but holy shit. WHAT was this man doing?! Final blow? I could, honestly, take a bat and destroy his property. And, to some, those slytherins might have sent it to me. That was spooky, the timing, that my bank was going to get shut down. Sure, an empty threat, sure now — I would drive over to Scott’s hosue, and now what? Who the fuck do you think you are? You want to hire a HITMAN? Truly. Farting on me on the phone!
Stupid, why did this stupid ex of mine put this guy on the phone with me? After I got out of the hospital. Why? He PRETENDED like he liked me. Bullshit. Bullshit. So that guy, on behalf of ALL the people he treated “unimaginably?” I hope he gets a TASTE of his own medicine. I do. Another genius. Jesus, up to my fucking ears.
Anyway, what a year this was.
I gotta clean my apartment now, with the ghost of Barbara Harris (lol). Excuse us. We have rehearsals… open mics to attend… perhaps scripts to write… okay? Characters to develop. We have plans. NEXT. Holy shit. Now, you have to picture the ghost of an actress… haunting me and then going, WHOA, and she will help me. Oh my God! And we will make it out… on some spaceship… lightning speed ahead. WHOA, turbulence. And now, there I am…on stage… trying. There’s no reason why I can’t figure something out. I keep my chin up, I have my negative moments, particularly around the writing, because I feel sort of stupid. Just how I went about it.
I just sent out a pitch, so I’m trying to figure that out, I’m just not the person who’s googling stuff, or researching ideas, so I keep working on what I’m working on, which are more creative projects, so I’m hoping I’ll be able to break SOME ground, now, now that I’m through that nightmare. And sure, I went through a whole mental health event, but the sexual trauma specialist is telling me, that doesn’t mean there wasn’t any TRUTH in it. He triggered you, duh, that person was insane, those people sent you that message, he was pretty sure. Luckily, a lawyer is following me 100% —there’s no doubt about it. And then, I got a weird message from my mother…
Oh my god.
Because I was on the cover of VOGUE, one cover, and to the ghost of Barbara Harris —oh my God! ONE magazine cover. And suddenly I’m getting messages from her family, like hey, we’re family. BLOCK BLOCK BLOCK. I was so angry, my mother waas offensive to an unbelievable point. Where she’s telling THEM about my cover, or she’s talking as if we have a relationship when she treated me like trash. The personality behind it doesn’t matter. I could have killed this bitch. Which is why, at will, making new email accounts, I will fire a subject only email at her — just to punch her in the face. I was trained by the Russians. Lol.
“This is just,” in my Russian mother’s mind, shrugging, she doesn’t care.
I’m sending her videos of people saying nice things about their children.
WHY she hates me as much as she does— I do not KNOW. WHY she PLAYS innocent? I do not know. Are you mentally ill? You work every day no? So you can clearly operate? Do you have a diagnosis? In a court of law, that might matter. You know what I mean? And as I was reaching out to President Obama through this, on the psycho spiritual plane, I heard: is she even licensed to practice in the state of California? I thought, wow, that’s a good question. “You can find that out.”
Thanks!
I had to laugh. I did. So, look, if that turns out to be true about my parents, whatever, I mean, whatever I’m dealing with now, wow. Only because, in a way, that would make sense, wouldn’t it? Just her hatred. It’s self-hatred, you can look at her and SEE very clearly she’s a tortured human being. Most of the time, it’s a “wow.” That’s what people say about her. And yet, you know, I don’t know what to do with it, because I don’t know what it means to accept your parents, accept that you are made from them. But I was on the subway in a white coat, not fur, and I thought about her white fur, I don’t know, but I hope, really, because it’s still so scary, that I have made peace with my char, my flesh, my connection to these people, which I wish I didn’t have.
Just the, when I got to that scene in my book, where I am home? What? Towards the end of this fiasco. And my cousins voices are PUNCHING through the pages, “where was your father??” You understand? A joke. And my mother has “a new business manager?” Who had taken over my house? In a sense. And I don’t remember if these drops off occurred once, twice, don’t know. But I’m telling you, I remember sitting in the only bedroom that was in that house? I didn’t have a room. I got up, in this state of serenity… I was serene. I calmly walked over to her office, no one was there. And I cut every chord, of her telephones, I took the whiteout and carefully painted every computer key, it was rage, but it was sailing over clouds. Then, I was playing handball, waking up to the fact that I was there, and this business manager came downstairs to kick my ball to the heavens and scream in my face.
And it was then, after four years, going through these four years, you understand. I looked at my mother in the shadows of the garage, looking at as if she were upset? Looking at my father… standing there like a DUNCE? Looking at this son of a bitch, yelling at ME? Am I NOT living someone else because we believe I am BEING SEXUALLY ABUSED you lunatics! You see? Was this true?
And then what? I called this woman? Angelica? To pick me up? I’m telling you dude, this business manager, he’s on my hitlist. I get it, in that, he had interests. He needed his taxes taken care of, I’m pretty sure, and no offense, I had form an alliance with President Barack Obama on the psycho spiritual plane, so I was not afraid, lol. That’s the information I downloaded right there. “He probably needed his taxes taken care of, Maria, think about it.” A woman on the brink of bankruptcy, he’s going to go out of his way to PAY her way OUT, claiming she’s a genius, that her business has “potential.” So who is this guy? He said “he used to work for THE government,” another one of these sentences that made President Obama and I chuckle. China too—over there. Nothing but laughs. “THE government?”
What a bunch of lunatics.
And keep in mind, I start voicing like, holy shit, was that true? And I’m getting SHUT DOWN. The moment I open my mouth. No one is going, “why do you feel that way?” You see what I mean? And luckily, I had the inner strength to get myself to someone I could talk to. Just because, I KNOW, that if you were to read that story, you’re not going to know at ALL what the fuck is going on. So there you have it, mix in some physical experiences, casual, and that’s why. I had no clue. But it was just, being inside these scenes, and coming to realize that this was really happening, that made me want to — attack my parents, Judge Judy style.
Can you picture her? Magnum Opus. Looking through all these ACCOUNTS, all these papers, of my mother accosting priests with rapes? Looking for sex downtown?? I wish my parents came under the public eye, I really wish that they had been confronted, because honestly, I have no idea what my father would have done, it was a terror that I can’t even relive, because there’s no real material to go off of. Like, what would he have done? SAID? Judge Judy would have — fired.
I don’t know about THESE types of people, you see. HOW they act? Just, finally, when he finally brought me home, after having realized I was a few times, after having remembered our conversations in the car about it, like, he didn’t MENTION these times, and I arrived — and my cousins are behind me — downstairs, an eight year old, my mother’s mirrors being smashed off her walls. The house crashing. I exploded. Are YOU INSANE? And I had to go on some deranged ride… I ripped him, confused out of my mind, and at the end of this argument, where we’re shufling around a car, like he’s going to come AFTER ME? Look, the Neapolitans, they know shit can get crazy, and they’re SEEING me telling him to fuck off — like you’re going to come after me, chucking a teddy bear at this lunatic, “tyranny!”And they’re saying, “this is a Neapolitan…” Jokes aside, and how can I not make jokes, I need to relieve myself. He goes, “she did this because she was jealous…”
How gross is that?
She wanted to “tear us apart…”
So, okay, I’m thirty-four. I’m going, wait, she was JEALOUS of a four year old, why? First of all. And so, she LIED about YOU being a child molester, rapist, whatever this was, because she was JEALOUS? She spent 11k a month to get rid of me, then? Because she was jealous? This man stood at this woman’s wide open door and watched girls going CRAZY HAPPY through the house for years! I think. More than once, for sure. Please help me to understand the SNAPSHOT?
And I’m like — help! Friend, please, someone, it’s been YEARS of agony, and I’m going to get SHOT DOWN. Like I was already in this situation, which EVERYONE knew, at least in my adult life. But I WOKE up, got strapped in, man, and I went on this ride, and it was horrific. But the basic skeleton of it, structure of it was there, I’m just not GOING INTO these details, or no one is ASKING me anything, we mostly floated through pixie dust, really, that’s what this story appeared like. Imagine? My whole life! That was my whole life. That lie.
When I was eight, I broke down and cried, because I was at a total loss, and I heard my voice, for the first time, “I don’t even have a room.” I had no idea where to go. And there, you know, when you keep hearing and SEEING evidence that it might be true, wow. Like am I in crazy town? Or am I really in Crazy town? And the sexual trauma specialist is telling me — you are really in Crazy Town, so at this point? Sure! Sure, it could have been true, obviously. I suppose Milarepa, since this saint came to my attention, he sought revenge against his family for killing his family, and he sent scorpions, beasts, to kill them all at a wedding, or something. And yet, afterwards, he felt no relief. So he went on a conversion story.
Man, if I had come to realize that was true, I don’t even know what to say, but — my father was maddening, he drove me MAD. Just, the way he pointed down, “they told vicious lies about me,” and then, going, wait, “you didn’t KNOW though…” and my mother, she’s just some Joker hanging out a limo with her tits exposed, truly, driving past Leonardo Di Caprio, utterly — um, not wanting to see that — right? Through Beverly Hills. Some woman who just flicked some domino… threw in CASH… and let the games begin. Wow. That’s what she did to her own child. That’s what HE did. My father. And this Brazilian woman in the middle… she’s going, “holy shit.”
Here’s 11k, a month, so I imagine they had to meet to exchange CASH. Unbelievable! Unbelievable! And Nicole and I are skipping through LACMA, to give the overall story a fairytale appeal… skipping past dinosaurs sinking in tar in states of agony, you understand, because we were on Miracle Mile. Anyway, my mind was blown, it really was. I felt it too, my mind was blown open. I wasn’t sure if that psychic break, I think, would heal, or I was worried, but it did. It 100% did. I don’t know what that was. But I felt broken open. AND THEN I get farted on.
By this guy.
Sitting there with the ghost of an actress, lol. Unbelievable. An Academy Award nominee. And then, gasp! My best friend, who acted all weird, and not to say I didn’t go through a break down… he wants to talk CLOTHES. When I’m TRASHING my whole closet. TRASHING. Selling. I’m getting rid of every single item. I have boxes ripped open, the few I had left, with photographs all over the floor, I placed my mother’s STUPID Neiman Marcus article RIGHT NEXT to Hannah Arendt’s “The Promise of Politics.” RIGHT THERE. The STUPID GURU is telling me to GET ON SOCIAL MEDIA, He SLIPS in right there, this asshole. telling me FINAL BLOW, acting as if he didn’t act like a LUNATIC, his brother getting INVOLVED WHY???
“Was I fed?”
“YES,” the guru said, as I was fucking confused, this man kept SHOVING “they feed you” down my throat! (My cousins, in my draft). “And I suspect,” he says, this lunatic, “that you weren’t bathed either…” like I needed this asshole. His BRO, his brother, made a MESS. Not his job to clean it up AKA do more damage as NOBODY in my life — truly — treated me as if I went through anything real! On top of it. So I sold my closet. Because, my friend had offended me, to my core, he became the person I just defaulted to about clothes, and he treated me, in the end, with disrespect. So into the garbage. And you know, our ties are complicated, there’s ME in it, there’s ME everywhere, but if you think about it? No sense.
Yikes, the funny bit? The haunted part? There was this one moment, as I was freaking out, thirty years later, I closed the door, and the glass in my peephole fell, onto the ground, and GASP! I said, “I saw the eye of jealousy.” And right there, my mind’s eye opened, really wide, and “my evil brother” character stepped into frame. He definitely definitely saw the eye of jealousy…. and I began to think about Jokers. Just the “bad guys” versus “good guys.” I sort of made peace with it. I thought, I could write villains. So my “evil brother” appeared, like, wow, and he gave me a good idea. “You should write a villain, or something,” so I keep him in my back pocket, because he was like, “I can exploit all your weakness on the field of dreams…” not OUTSIDE. So I guess I made peace with the villain, or the dark side, and now, I can tackle my mother as one, to begin, of course, in a sense. She’s a woman. She was a villain. And now, that isn’t so harrowing. Lots of darkness.
So I went through that period, you know, where my best friend is even telling me that the apocalypse is really coming. Don’t know how I got here, but all I had to say was, “this is making me feel uncomfortable.” I didn’t have to enact it, because I didn’t know how to communicate. I invited him over, because I was so triggered by that point, and in a sort of Jesus way, I acted as if I had FOUGHT for a thousand years, something like that, totally crazy, and now, I was on the other side of it. The apocalypse is over. I did it. So who is crazier? The one who really believes it’s coming, or the ONE who is already on the other side of it? That’s all. Despair.
I wouldn’t ever do that again, like I wouldn’t have done most of the things I did, but if I heard APOCALYPSE FOR REAL is coming ONE MORE TIME… with this GURU saying IDEAS are REAL and COMING FOR YOU… all the while SAILING through all this on a single windsurf! Right? The Little Mermaid. I had a hilarious sponatenous thought drop from the sky at the top of this year… which was, suddenly, I think I might have been meditating, I don’t know, but suddenly I was on a beach and without hesitation, I saw the single windsurf laying on the sand, and I got on that shit, and start SPEED SAILING — to a brighter future. So that image comes back to me from time to time, SAILING through the winds. (With the ghost of Barbara Harris…) we’re going at a diagonal… and now I hope I can be an entertainer.
I get the apocalyse is coming. I thought, in this moment, where I was going through so much, too, that I could just do an apocalypse story, just take OYA, yes, the goddess, this was my solution — and really really give the people what they want. An apocalyspe. With an African goddess behind it. Not in a bad way, like evil, the opposite. There you go! Just picture her there instead of THOR. OYA. DO IT. I’m sick and tired of seeing WESTERN GODS. SICK AND TIRED OF IT.
My “psychosis” was absolutely hilarious. I”m going through so much and coming up with conceit after conceit to channel everything to a story somewhere else. If that becomes anything, cool, but I went through an enormous ordeal. And in the end, this guru was in love with me, I THINK, that was a disturbing response.
Meanwhile, the lawyer…
He has no issue with…wanting to spend some time with me.
Hilarious!
So, alright, cue Brian Tyler, orchestrating the “out” music. There’s a bit of a Jim Carrey impulse inside of me — a superhero coming out of this GNARLY time..Ace Venture Pet Detective. (Love Actually.) “WOW,” just picture Jim Carrey saying that, after all that. “DO NOT GO IN THERE, WHOO!” I was on that level, my friend.
Chewed up by sharks. Got out by a slim chance.
Going through physical experiences, lol, like my hips start HURTING.
“WHOO!”
Coming to discover that her “magical powers” are gone. If you would. And there’s an actress — haunting/helping me — telling me: who gives a shit? Get in there! Up there! So that’s what I’m doing. I’m taking deep breaths, and trying to make something out of it, some of it, at least. Something. Facing a normal life. You know what I mean?
I’d like to buy a house, a nice house, I’d like to succeed, in my life, but I made my choices, so I think there’s a period of… status quo… like this is where I am… and I keep moving past my moments of fear. The delusion was unbelievable. Unreal. Unbelievable. I just mean around me, in me, and I reopened those years… and I can see how I might invent a magical land where evil white witches lure children, and the forces of good and evil battle it out, close calls, deaths, the whole thing.
As your manager.
A fictional character is a “psychological device,” to be exact, his wording, “and a good one.”
Getting farted on.
Perhaps on some leg (with the ghost of an actress) with thugs who sent me some email when they got mad? In the middle of the night…
You see what I mean?
I get a call? At 8:30 AM? From a middleman? Acting like nothing is happening. I ask him to take the money for me, and he’s not going, “why would I do that? You are NOT in danger.” He agrees to take the money for me. Now, WHY? If that was unnecessary? Did he know I was terrified? Why didn’t he say, “DUDE, WHY ARE YOU SCARED?” You see, that did not happen. So, in my mind, I have the right to question whether or not they actually sent me that message.
But like, what the fuck? No offense. What am I going to do? SUE THEM? You know? Stupid. So the sexual trauma expert, he believes they sent it. Call it an emotional move. The sign of — youth. That’s what I think, with the ghost of an actress backing me up, because holy shit — this got CRAZY.
But I got through it.
The message that they sent through my website (most likely) it hit me in the gut. I was under a lot of tension, to be fair, but it really hit me. So here we go, am I psychic? Just the last thing I needed. Just a mess.
Gotta clean, but I’m just feeling better, I keep evacuating this period, not knowing WHY I felt like a criminal. You know? BECAUSE I came from where I did. So ANGELICA LEIBOWITZ, congratulations, you played your role, and this woman was a goddamn BOWSER, some BOWSER I needed to defeat. PUTTING THAT SITUATION ON ME. And all I can ask, now, is WHY?
I picture my friend’s dad, the lawyer, smiling at me, knowingly, as a criminal defense attorney. He can’t tell me details, but he’s seen some stupid shit. He really has. We hung out one night because he was installing his daughter’s cable or TV and he’s the nicest guy, and we had a funny conversation. That’s a clean person. He sees me as one of the kids, literally. Picking up his pants, he’s got curls too. From that perspective, I was thinking about all this, like, turning to a jury, “I really really came from crazy.” And now, hopefully, I might be able to USE that, play some kick ass character, who migh be outside the law herself, who knows?
At least in that arena, I can play anything. I can invent anything. That’s where I got to. It’s all okay, I didn’t need to feel like a criminal. Again my mother was a harsh mirror: Joy. I think she’s be a fantastic villain. What she reflected. People are crazy… they don’t even know it… when they lose their mind. There are all sorts of characters out there. Who feel JUSTIFIED. I have to flip it back on the guru, right? Who said that THAT whole event was about justice. The feeling in my gut. The impact.
The desire for justice.
Now I look back at him, like, what were you doing?
I don’t know what to say, you see, that’s maybe not true…
It’s almost as if he wanted me to turn against myself. And I’m sorry, forgive me, but I can’t even stomach any kind of point of view on the subject, like THEY were a reflection of you, or your past? Your father? I really don’t know. I just have to stay there a minute. Because I did not want to turn against myself. If that was familial somewhere down there, just because, my mother? I’m sorry that was a legendary lunatic, a legendary human being. I just have to flick that TINY domino in another direction quick — that this made me SPECIAL, FAMOUS, I DO NOT KNOW AND I DO NOT WANT IT. Okay? With talk of me being PRETTY. Fuck off. Go away. I don’t give a SHIT what I look like, truly! I had nothing but rage. For a while. It’s an EXPLUSION. It’s an utter rejection. So I’m just there, when it comes to all that. It’s a BLAST OFF, away, send in an actress. (lol.)
Send in an actress with classical training — NOW. Rip these people to shreds. How hilarious? In my X-MEN? On my team? Intimate team? An actress. You want power? BLAST THEM AWAY. I do not want to deal with this. All I neeed was a British voice in my head — to get here. Now I’m really laughing. I heard A BRITISH voice inside of me, and I began to speak very clearly. Now send in an actress, I do not CARE where she is from. I laughed at that, I really did. I needed to care enormously. I needed to really care with gravitas. Because that was insane. Just the whole thing. And the thing is, I feel realer and realer, over here, I feel much better, THANKS, and I cannot CHANGE what that means, which scares me sometimes, just because, I don’t know what to say about my family, what happened to me extremely young, and people don’t get what psychology is, I’m sorry, and if it LOOKS too obvious? Or something? It’s pretty clear to me, we are affected by the experiences that we lived through. And in my case, that was Wonderland, or “the underworld” to the Neapolitans. They could tell I was in the underworld, in some capacity. They could hear that I was Dante, I was telling a story about hell, no? My cousins got the picture, casually, even. But then DANTE is now DANTE, so please, do not LAUGH at DANTE, this is too important a figure. The road was the road. “I went through the USA family inferno,” in real tones, at dinner, shrugging at me, that the fates decided it would be so, probably because you had a great destiny, something, like this, yes, I didn’t make sense, but whatever, right? It’s Inferno. It HAS to be confusing.
“The labor right? That’s what he know. Is on the return. AMAZING story though, right?” They have to memorize it. In school. And luckily they did. Because I was Dante, and yes, I was aided by an actress. This was a super archetype to Maria, and it’s extremely funny. I hope I reached for an inner power within myself to just — trash the whole thing. Just trash it, with a beginning like that, it’s simple, I’m hero, let’s just get there, to that status, in whatever means we need to. If that means I’ll invent a character worhty of an stupendous actress, I’ll take it, for sure. No thanks. I’ll be chilling with Prince Charles, not saying much, just sitting there… being with all that has happened. Gazing out windows, “a British person.” I have to work on that, because Barbara Harris played British…and the more I think about it, the more I think, wow Lerner was truly funny. I know, have her become “British,” let’s see what happens? And then, Harris is playing that she regresses to a British self…
So funny. And I found something true about it in my own head. Like, I started hearing like Sir Ian Mckellan reading these words, and beginning to picture a British person narrating this lunacy, and it made me laugh. SO maybe I’ll end up playing with a British persona, I’ll see what happens, and if it is funny… because it works? I’ll see. I think it’s just Somerset Maughm, because he’s sort of like my grandfather, where I read a lot of his work in my twenties, thirties, and I felt like I enjoyed him, he was an orphan, in Britain, at that time, and he ended up becoming one of the most celebrated writers, and I guess he’s out of style, but I appreciated what he did, it was really fun to read him, so I guess maybe I just read a British author in depth.
Again, my cousins think characters are my thing, I was becoming someone else at the drop of a hat, lol, they said, now, I’m not so sure, in my personal life, unless I simply have an effect, I really can’t explain that. But now, I can just direct that idea into a context that makes sense, so if I’m good at characters, if I could be, then I’ll keep inventing these characters I could try on. So I’ll work on BRITISH. Just the accent. And of course, a body, lol. I’m over it, just over the whole thing.
What a disaster! What a totally embarassing family! Lunatics. That’s the only thing that can be said. The rest, the sentiment, specifically, in BRITISH TONES, JESUS CHRIST the SENTIMENT. Enough! TRULY SPEAKING. It’s so AMERICAN! STOP! Picturing Somerset Maughm slamming down his book and reasoning with me, simply. ENOUGH! It’s so true though. I was in a fairytale! Ever British person would be able to understand what I mean, lol. I feel totally crazy! Luckily I met an actress. WOW. So funny.
So, as I told my Big Sister of Ameriaca, hilarious, I can hopefully direct these experiences somewhere, because I sort of have to, I was impacted too deeply by them, they really really impacted me. And who cares right? So, the Zen Master Sybil said, that care was really my problem. That was the session in which, she, I was speaking to her about how I tried to call my mother again, since I saw her at an awakening of sorts, I was starting to feel things, or question if I understood how I really felt, I don’t know if that’s the sign of someone repressed, I don’t know. I thought I had dealt with it, and NO, she was quick on the draw there, I hadn’t. Now, look, I think the best thing to do, would be to inquire further, not shut me down, exactly. “What’s starting to happen now?”
And take it from there. Just because what are you going to do with that? So, but, she said. That, my message to her was crazy. I was started to care about what happened, I think, and she questioned this stupid message I sent this bitch. Hey, it’s me, your daughter, just seeing how you’re doing…? Like someone I didn’t even know, right? And she slammed down her XXL iced coffee, as she would, and grabbed, clutched, onto her armrests and stared SHOOTING RAGE into my EYES. “What about FUCK YOU!” “Where the FUCK have you been?” And with the details we know now, “seriously?!” I’m telling you. And in her rage, she leaned in, “I care?” And I said, right away, no no, and she was rapid fire now — why? NO, why? Sniper. “Why?”
“I care?”
“I can’t say that.”
And that was the point. To her. “You don’t care.”
“You don’t INVEST.”
“That’s your problem.”
“You have to care to INVEST.”
This is why you can’t sit still, in a sense, why I’m living abroad, which she didn’t understand. SHE DIDN’T, sipping her XXL iced coffee. So there you go, that’s her, she helped me through this, just the little time I spent with her, because down the line, it got so dark. That was her final word to me…as I skipped off back to Paris… and that would be the point things started to turn… she begged me to stay. STAY. She fired rage into my eyes. I just couldn’t hear her. “Invest…” that’s all she said. Invest…
And if I look across the entire landscape, like WHO CARES? You went to LECOQ a couple of years, that’s fine! But I had NO VOICE like that, I had to reason with myself, and I had to SEAR through delusion, even from those in the world… meaning the people I met, how people reacted, the delusion with which people regarded me. Maybe a psychologist might say, “yeah that makes sense.” How utterly terrible. So there was a lot of delusion around that story, I don’t know what to say about my looks, yikes! Like, did some people write crazy stories around me for that reason? You know what I mean? And I had to LOOK through photos of models, diligently, LOOK through photos of actresses, LOOK through instagram handles, LOOK — LOOK through the field of “beautiful women…” CONFUSED. Not knowing who I am, landing on a picture of Brad Pitt, shrugging at that guy, and moving on… if one of them were to tell me, you’re so pretty! I would probably be surprised, I would take the compliment, simply, and just go, okay, maybe I was. I didn’t know, these people weren’t… telling me anything, you understand? I was just there, in an outfit, and I THINK, I think, I do not KNOW, that I have an appealing figure… because people told me. I’m just not like that. I don’t know what that means, and I don’t always feel that way, if you understand me.
Barbara Harris does. We’re on the same page there. We have NO idea.
But cool, I’ll just embrace it, and have much more fun… lol, you know what I mean? It’s my body, so I might as well have a good time. I agree. So. I mean, you might as well love what you got, those are my final words. No matter what. Like what you got. I just, don’t know what to say about that, strange. Maybe women feel that way, regardless, like they’re sexual objects, or they can be regarded that way. Strange. What I refused to know, see. Got that picture. Very clearly. Clear. A British voice helped me reach that “clarity,” or Severn Darden, moving with me through this. “Clarity.” Something about it, the vowel, lol. So anyway, good times ahead.
At least, I started dating again… like I met someone, normal. All normal. Nothing strange about it. Nothing wrong with it. Wanting to meet someone. Wanting things. Good, Maria, good, Cate Blachett “the good witch.” The true fairy godmother. There was just moments, when I thought, huh, people think of roles for people to play, like, people do that, no one cares. And I thought, huh, Cate Blachett — and I thought, she might go, “holy shit,” over that story. So I thought, yikes. Again, I’m just thinking: actress, and there they are… just looking at them, mothers, like you HAVE to be joking. Even Cindy Crawford? She broke the internet over her daughter, EXCUSE ME?? I turned. And I laughed, because I thought, wow, if she, as mother, if her daughter was in this situation? She would rip someone’s face off. And there was something about the ferocity behind that moment she had, which is funny, like, why do I know this? Why is this information coming to me? But I received it.
And that made me think about just the fierceness that I needed in this case. I needed to be fierce. There’s a time and a place for it, where, in my case I had to really channel rage here, like that was no okay, and I don’t want to remain SPELLBOUND, nice try. You know what I mean? When you feel like people are SO unaware, that it’s a touch too much, and you know, I can’t help that I came from those beginnings, so I might have been far away, in a sense, so that’s the zen master, right? She’s — fierce, fast, because of where I was at, I think, I think that’s what she thought. So I thank her from afar, because I even felt her, shaking her head, like, you’ve got to joking? The lie about him being a child molester, the whole ordeal that was not AT ALL there, between us, I wonder if I told her, even, aboutt the lie, I might have, but I really don’t know. So that was a revelation, most definitely. I hope it will bring out the best in me now, whatever that means, if I could tell powerful stories, that would be grand, if I could be good at that, I don’t know. I’m going to have to find that out, but that sounds like an awesome adventure. Figuring out life now. Living. Seeing real things in my future, as I came out of that with nothing. Was it necessary to sell my closet?
I guess so. Not to make a big thing of it. But my clothes were practically all I owned, which, looking back, I don’t understand exactly what happened, as I look through a treasure of a closet, type deal, where I liked ideas, even, though I might not have worn them, and I don’t know what happened, exactly. How I got to the last original apartment at the Chelsea Hotel, lol. It makes me laugh now. Barbara Harris, too. “What a strange home…” but she fits right in. It was so enchanted, it really was. It was an apartment that truly belongs in a novel, like I understood why Tomson wrote, in general, I understand the mind, it remained, if you would, now decorated by artists, but there’s some kind of continuity still. I understood the mind of a novel, or at least, one. And that’s where I was. I’m not THAT keen to re-embody it, if you would. I’m not on that page. But it’s attractive, sure… it’s reality, though, sitting there, and going, “okay,” shrugging, “you could do that.” Sure. You can do anything. But it was Arendtian, even. I could picture her going, and then, she moves there….
Huh. Wow. And she would follow the descriptions, wow, it sounds like an enchanting apartment, but it’s falling apart? Wow. This is so literal. Sheets over the furniture. A death trap. Not to say anything about the owners, I’m talking about my own life. This is where I ended up in my thirties. “Interesting.” Arendt. So she decides, I picutred her, thinking about it, to live for free — this man came into her life, at the Carlyle Hotel? Wow. Through this psychedelic group? Right? And there are known people in that group, HUH, that might have fascinated her, interesting. And I end up in this extraordinary place, right? And I’ll fall apart. But not like, I got discovered, I’m in a movie, and I suddenly reach success, let’s say… but that I end up in that apartment, and I’m going to figure out how to be a writer? You know? Funny. Like, most people are, “Hey, gotta get a job, place, and I got some ideas I’d like to write about, gotta meet up with some friends…” you know? Normal.
I took a turn. And this was, I don’t know if I would call it a mistake, but it was — a bit of a wrong turn, like, a bit looney, a bit nonsensical. It’s not my fault. I had to take responsibility for a lot, in my case, when it came to my parents problems… that was, my mother, truly, truly, these people, this family, whoever the hell they are, wow, they were truly crazy. But I had this beautiful closet of clothes… in the frame of a storybook novel, “the neverending story…” amazing, because the paint was chipping off the ceilings, as this apartment was the last man standing… during renovations, it held on, through that, so it’s the only one left. And I thought, these hotel people were small minded, because, turn the apartment into your best feature, why people go. Like Elaine’s, like, don’t touch it, just make it public, that’s all. So sometimes, the ceiling fell like a waterfall, in the closet… truly. That happened in there. Holes were drilled by the front door. And the owners just held on for years. NO. I’m so glad they did, it’s just, it was a rough moment. And the whole place was enchanted, like, one day, I noticed a cockroach, and I went running away…into the kitchen. I waited. Then, I stuck my head out, and saw the cockroach wasn’t moving, it was just sitting in the middle of 100 year old hardwood floors, the shade of blue on the walls from Naples, so it was animated. And, I didn’t want to disturb it, and I looked at the door — a considerable distance, but that’s probably what he was trying to reach… I figured. So I tip toed out the door, had things to do, and I left him the chance to figure it out. This is really what I did.
Then, I met a British guy, who had an idea about a cockroach, which he said first, a story. Amazing. I came back, and he was still there, so it took a second, but then I realized that he was dead. How strange. Because the living room is large. I looked at the vents…they were so far away, a day’s journey for him, lol, not really. But he dropped dead right there. I called the owner, she said, she had stuffed those vents with so much poison, NONE were getting past her, and HE did. I said, wow, that’s an extraordinary cockroach. I named him Wilbur. A nice cockroach. He would be remembered. This is what I mean about that Hotel.
So I was there. At a strange time. I think, now, I just wouldn’t even be here, though I might have visited, you know what I mean? Gone to go see it. Wish it the best… in surviving the FINAL showdown, it’s just funny that all happened at the same time. But I got through that, I don’t know what to say, successfully, and though I don’t know the full extent of it, whatever happened back there, was pretty crazy. And everyone looked at me with stars in their eyes, like, yeah, happens, you know, probably making it up… you’re confused… and it’s right there, right there. I nod… I do, “I get it,” but I’m about to send in “the actress.” She’s waiting in the wings, listening to all this. “Time to clean.”
“No no must be going, nice conversation, we’ll talk, we will.”
Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash