I’m telling you. It’s 8 AM, my space heater is drumming a soothing blank noise, just like a sound machine, I’m surrounded by my PLANTS — NICE beings. I’m looking for these jobs I wanted to apply for, right? And I can’t. So I’m thinking.
I sent this fucking screenwriter a few — YES — I am aware — SUBJECT ONLY EMAILS though if he CLICKED and READ he would read that I think he’s an asshole, and he was part of my problem, if not the bigger one — THANKS.
Assholes like you. And it’s not over, not for you.
In all this — FANNING hands, I’m even doing interpretative DANCES on my TikTok channel, you’ll see, practically JAPANESE, FANCIFUL JAPANESE, imagining telling the Good Will Hunting crew this story, “THIS GUY, and then THIS GUY wants to be a hero!” He’s giving me FANCY jazz hands like meditate reality into existence, and he can’t — since he VOLUNTEERED to help me without ME ASKING — say: GET A JOB.
I hated all these geniuses, there were two men who came into my life who not only made my life a living hell, it would turn out, but they didn’t get the picture. I was not UNFORTUNATE, I didn’t NEED friends, in a sense, I had a community, assholes.
These ASSHOLES ONLY saw what I lacked. And if I see you, BELIEVE ME, there is an ACTRESS behind me, I’m being HAUNTED/HELPED by an actress, and she doesn’t give a shit WHERE we are. I see you, beware: I will BLOW. Fuck you. It’s a major fuck you across the whole decade, an ACTRESS is behind me.
So I’m having trouble right now, as I was acting STUPID, listening to these losers, getting caught up in USELESS shit. USELESS. At 39, I could do tap dances around these men, I must say, in terms of a young woman… washing up to my shores? SO dickface, you think coming to PARIS with DRUGS is gonna help me?
“Who’s this?” Imagine the ghost of an actress. “Who’s this?”
You brought me into this so-called COMMUNITY? And YOU SEE there’s a DRUG ADDICT WHO CAN TREAT PEOPLE UNIMAGINABLY??? As someone who already came from that backgorund? Not the time. Now, why am I here in the firstplaec? It was a step one problem: WHY am I here to begin with?
Thanks for enabling me, seeing me as someone unfortunate, but also gifted, yeah, in the psychic arts, like I needed this shit. So, here I am, with my plants, in my own universe, changing my FOCUS — yeah, this shaman? Look, cyptically coming around me and slipping that in… to disappear… can you EXPLAIN what the point is? You can’t SIT DOWN and speak to a person normally? Because you’re some “ooooooo” shaman who MISSED the point?
Why did you get on the phone with me after I got out of the hospital? “This is about belonging.” WRONG. You were all disgraces. And I do believe that the SYLTHERIN, as I met a slytherin, and Dave Chappelle projected on my wall is going to agree with me. Without knowing, I’m sending in Dave Chappelle into the Carlyle Hotel, and I’m asking him to sit in the cafe and take a look around and tell me if he sees anyone remarkable… someone who is going to catch his attention.
“I saw a slytherin…” that’s the first thing he’s going to say. “Is that a slytherin?” But for real, is that a slytherin?
And yes, I got involved with him. And no worries, with him, I’m sort of in a — I understand you have problems — you’re well intentioned — you just don’t seem to understand that drugs, dialing into the FBI CIA, forget police, AFFECT you, and I would have kept that in a very boundaried place. Though I would not be here, to be frank, in the first place. My mother was a drug addict, so this is a giant goodbye. GOOD-BYE, the ghost of an actress telling me to get the fuck UP.
I believe the slytherin indeed sent me the 5 AM message through my website that tipped me over a real edge. Okay? I’m going to exist there. And this SHAMAN he gets on the phone with me talking about BELONGING when I was on the floor of a hospital with pains in my loins. NOT ONE of these goddamn experts could ask — did you FEEL anything in your BODY? Truly. Did I NOT reach out to these SHAMANS DURING the experience? Sounding worthy of concern and action. Like did I not PAY money? Did I NOT GIVE MY TIME? DID I NOT INTERVIEW YOU? BELIEVE IN YOU? So you can fuck off. I hate the plant people with the power of a true psychic, Dave Chappelle, behind me. Okay?
If you’d like to know, I would like to give credence to THIS idea, that Mr. Chappelle — appeared — looking through all these bodies — a true psychic. “What? Did you say Dr. J?” A superhero. “Did you say your mother’s name was Dr. J?” That’s it, he entered the equation. So did many others on the psycho spiritual plane. Forget the imagination. I was sending smoke signals — launching into space — reaching for the celebrities for assistance. PLEASE get me to YOUR TV SCREEN. I don’t even fucking have to MEET YOU! “Listen to this…”
“AND THEN a Hollywood guy wants to swing his dick AROUND…” telling me “fictional characters are psychological devices,” and good ones! Just please. That man was a psychopath. That man had no right, and of course, I’m in a worse spot because I listened to this so-called experts, you see? I was special? Famous already? CONFUSED. A book would CHANGE MY LIFE!!
So SURE, thinking about OBAMA, OBAMA taking this time: 500k can fall from the sky, the man can even DELIVER it to me, a job might fall from the SKY, YES! This wasn’t my ISSUE.
AAHHHHHHH, I’m pointing, electicity shooting out of my goddamn finger, telling these men to get OUT. An actress is helping/haunting me. Okay? GET OUT. That was the ONLY thing I had to say. GET OUT! At STEP ONE. It was a NO. Forget YOU and ME, no no no. It was a NO, at step one.
So, I can’t apply for that job, and I’m going to have to keep figuring it out, it might take me a second. I’m just getting frustrated because I concentrated in LOONEY directions, truly, like what is DOING DRUGS going to DO for me, with YOU, at the CARLYLE HOTEL? THEY KNOW, I assure you. You know? And I had NO IDEA what the fuck I was doing… I did not want to do this, you understand.
And this fucking guru is telling me that the 5 AM message — I CALLED IT IN from the ETHER to deliver myself the final blow…can you please explain? Why are you saying that? WHAT final blow? You see, I can move BACK, asshole, through our interactions, and SEE that you are CLEARLY trying to lead me down a PATH.
WHY? Final blow? When I think it was actually the slytherin, that’s what the sexual trauma specialist said, after I took him through THIS leg of my journey. “But he’s not asking you, WHY are you acting like this?” “No.” He nodded. “Right.” Because that guy? He agreed to RECEIVE my money for me, you see. Why? Right? Why would that be NECESSARY? “You are not in danger?” The sexual trauma specialist even said it, gave him the response! “I do not NEED to be here.” So he believes they did. And you know what? At that point, you might as well admit it, right? So THAT mother fucker, this slytherin, FARTED on the phone at me after I got out of the hospital. So, sure, he could have. He could have raped me too, sure, at this point, the sexual trauma specialist is seeing NOTHING but rapists. Sure. Slip you something… why not? Who gives a shit about her. So if you didn’t, you should THINK.
I have to follow newsletters, I have to THINK: where do you want to end up? I suppose I feel stuck because I BECAME A WRITER IN ALL CAPS. I was open, trying to let life happen to me, yes, even intuitively, and just GET OVER IT. I do not want to write about family, exactly, and this GURU with his haughty airs of “if this were a chalkboard,” getting up, in his house, “I would write family and circle it.” OKAY— thanks, because that was a maladaptive pattern, but clearly this guy is living in an unreal universe, where the real world does not EXIST, okay? Not my life idea. A MALADAPTIVE PATTERN. You see? You see how he’s only going to fuck up my life? In the GUISE of genius, a lot of HOT air. So anyway, he’s definitely in my book, for sure, and I made my way out… the ghost of an actress and I making a getaway on the psycho spiritual plane as fast as we can.
Maybe I should look up production houses or something as I think I’d like to go into film… I think I have good ideas actually. I’m just frustrated today, and the thing is, these men wouldn’t even DARE to come UP to ME and SPEAK to me in the way that they did, because MY GENERAL attitude is not the same. I’m not putting up with POWER PLAYERS. You wanna take swings, chick? I dare you, truly. the Carlyle, yes, is supporting me also on the psychospiriual plane, I felt it, I felt the hotel FEEL my entrance, and I felt welcomed, thank you. I got the message, wink.
And all I have to do is DELETE a blog post—brilliant.
You know, this man said, you remind me of Barbara Harris, right? In an outfit she would never be caught DEAD in. That’s the joke. But still, okay, I could relate to her at some angles, and at least I was influenced by an artist with a real point of view, a good writer, someone with heart. I can use what I learned. But come on, this guru is painting pictures, cuing VIOLINS, over some CHICK who wants to be a writer? Like this is the Hero’s Journey? Like nothing is REAL? Just, please, I was SPECIAL TO HIM — THINK, I was just a WOMAN in a cafe. And now, the man is in love with me, not, wanting to spread his SEED, be a guru, be ABOVE ME, I couldn’t KEEP UP.
So now, I’m going, hm, could have become a REPORTER? First step? If you want to end up at Vanity Fair, or one of these? You might want to read magazines? If that’s the direction you’d like to go in… so I’m going to sit with Frank Sinatra Has a Cold, and I’m going to think Barbara Harris Did Not Want to Be Interviewed. I’ll see if I can break some ground… the only piece that sucks is the money one. And, I had MONEY IN THE BANK. Right? The empowering perspective would be — that. Like, here’s some homework: figure out how to make it GROW. Here’s the silence.
This is where I silenced the celebrities on the psychospiritual plane. “You want to APPRECIATE in value, lady, NOT DEPRECIATE…” but these GURUS see LACK. You see? RARRRRR— I am sending psychic FIRE across the psychospiritual plane to these people. Me? As a mother? With my husband, in theory? (Because, like, my child wouldn’t BE here, you see, hell no.) But SURE, here we go, getting into the CAR, for I will SHOW UP — you see the difference? FUCK NO, I’m pulling over in a goddamn lamborghini and BLOWING THIS GURU AWAY. RUN, you better RUN. I became a mother, you understand, I had to. My man, he’s fine. lol.
Jesus, just, get to a good psychologist. If you’re here, you gotta reframe the whole thing. Not it’s your fault, not, no no no. WHY are you here to begin with? Try that on for SIZE. I don’t have people I can rely on right now, not like that, and that’s totally fine, I feel like I could have left home at 14, I was watching Jennifer Lawrence, and figured it out. But I’m 39. Needing some serious… I am not psychic. Okay? I am NOT SO SPECIAL SO SPECIAL that I don’t even deserve RESPECT. That guru DISRESPECTED ME at HELLO. But that’s how that stupid story went in reality.
So don’t give me some speech about MY LIMITING BELIEFS. Imagine? In BEVERLY HILLS. Even Beverly Hills is shocked. Really? YEAH. And guess what? The GLARING POINT NO ONE SAW: I was in a sex scandal, you idiots.
Now I’m going, “hey dipshit,” me, “you wanna MEET people? People…” as relationships are everything. You wanna… think about where you want to END UP? Looking at these so-called expertst… wisemen…geniuses… this guru in particular, and if I am RIGHT that there has been even the TINIEST reception on his END: GOOD, asshole. I was NOT a toy. That story just brought me nothing but complications. Nothing. Now with this douchebag and his obsessions with DRAMA, problems, right? Just a fun ride, this guy. He knew nothing about my background. Nothing. So WHY did he ACT as if he were the psychologist for me? He doesn’t even know anything about WOMEN. Do not GIVE me some FACADE, like, has he ever had a girlfriend? What the hell does this man know? PROFESSOR LANDAU is NOT PRACTICING PSYCHOLOGY. He’s a MATHEMATICIAN.
Looking at Robin Williams, on the sly. Thinking about Good Will Hunting. And I have to be wrought over all this, like you were, what? NICE TO ME? Should I CUE a PARADE? You were not that nice, sorry to break it to you.
His father — no offense — he looked like he sucked. Like he sucked real bad. WHY these men have a strange celebrity complex? What the fuck is this? Why do they think they are GIFTED in this realm? WHAT did they, personally, GO THROUGH? LEARN? STUDY? ANYTHING?
I did not need to go down this road. So, this guy, he’s so arrogant, listen to this. I wrote this bizarre (the actress looking at this over my shoulder) BIO on my website that HE even approved of, which is some fairytale conversation between me and a mysterious “wise screenwriter…” where he’s TELLING ME what a TITLE IS. It looks BAD, not good. This is where Dave Chappelle tunes in, in my mind, “what?” Please! Help! I came from Looney Tunes! If he read this convo, he would be… confused, “who’s this guy?” You might meet people who keep YOU HOOKED.
The actress and I BOUGHT some JEWELRY, a sweater, plants, a vintage Gucci bag, okay??? For 150. “CALL,” she said, so OVER ME, “CALL THE STORE and ASK THEM TO PUT IT ON HOLD.” And there I go, saying I can put down a deposit. And she paused, on the phone, she would just put it in the back for me. See? I was in a throes of what to do, in the rain, do I go now? I needed someone who could SUSTAIN rage. Stop acting like that.
The ghost of an actress: that idea is making me laugh, at least. I’ll figure it out. I have a job, at least, I just suffer sometimes, though I understand the value of attitude, of course, so that gets better, because I’m in a position that I didn’t need to be in. I had to learn lessons the hard way… I did INDEED write this GURU, like my mother, SUBJECT ONLY EMAILS hoping I would PUNCH them in the FACE. Even ONE. I started a new email, even. Just in case.
“Did you take advantage of me asshole?” I don’t know HOW, but you’re a clever son of a bitch aren’t you? The way he ACTED was SUSPICIOUS. So why don’t you TAKE THAT and THINK ABOUT YOURSELF. That I went through an experience, Carl Jung’s the Red Book? He said? I don’t know if I was abused in some capacity, so why not? YOU — dipshit. Why not, I don’t know, manipulate me further, you see. With your BELIEFS, seriously, that whatever HAPPENS TO YOU, you see, is what you want. Imagine? So why not rape a woman? You think I can’t follow that logic? Right? And you see, there’s an actress haunting me, so — f propriety. I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID. The SETH BOOKS might need a serious edit.
So, the sexual trauma specialist, his question: WHO did it? WHO? The possibilities, he said, were WIDE in my case, he made that very clear convo one. And when your parents, even your MOTHER is up on the STAND, if you would, surrounding THAT question, well, why not some DIPSHIT screenwriter? So my arrow, on the psychospiritual plane, as a Saggitarius, Brad Pitt a centaur in the distance, lol, is pointed RIGHT at the guru. And you see, I’m the type of person who’s getting on a PLANE — FLYING TO LA — and waiting extremely patiently for YOU to appear. I’ll even get a LAWN CHAIR. DID YOU? The question is very very simple.
Did you take ADVANTAGE OF ME SEXUALLY. And with my list, I will go down, and I’m most definitely going for DR. J. If I can. That’s my plan, in my dreams. WHO? Who did it?
So I will stare at notecards today… with dreams of telling all this to the Good Will Hunting crew, like “there she is,” stepping out of her house, far away, and she’s already funny, running down the steps… she might trip because she feels exposed, and I’m going to LOSE IT! I’m beside Casey. “Okay, so I was in a sex scandal… when I was four…and THEN I’m going to become PSYCHIC. You see?”
Nothing but trouble here. “I am a shaman,” imagine? “I could be a shaman…” and the thing is, in some of these scenes, you’re going to GET THAT, it’s just, a funny road, where I AM BEING ASKED by RUSSIANS to talk to a Ukranian refugee, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND, looking at these people. The RUSSIANS trained me, yes, of course they did. I was trained by the Russians as a clown… and I might touch Putin’s heart. He might be tickled, imagine? And moved by my experience with Russian people. “This is Society of Spectacle no?” I asked the Russians, concerning my sex scandal. “Da,” no hesitation. “Is this NOT what YOU see? The Society of Spectacle? It’s CAPITALISM.” Absolutely. That’s exactly what they see. So I had to laugh at our interactions… no? Across the board, it was society of spectacle. I’m putting on DANCES for the child molestor… spectacle. An American missed the point. It’s artifice. Fireworks. The 4th of July, we know.
In any case, I’m feeling much better overall, and I’m going to solve this problem, it’s a basic problem, but it’s bothering me. I would like to exit restaurant… as fast as I can, not like there’s anything wrong with it, I just don’t want to work in this capacity. However, that’s where I am for the moment, and I have kept that to a three day a week thing, and I’m fine, but I’m trying to figure out what’s next… so something will come up. Unfortunately, a couple of things did, back there, but I was in the throes of utter confusion, so I let a couple of thing go. I just didn’t want to do them, but it would have at least provided me with more… to build off of. So that’s alright, you live and learn, and I’m trying to open up and think—what do I do? Where do I point my arrow? Even… make impossible reach outs… I don’t know. Just trying to think about what to do from here.
Time to get to work on my EPIC story… and that’s about it. I gotta go to the open mics, too, but today is my writing day, as I’m trying to figure out my schedule. Maybe I’ll go later. Have a good day. I will.