I mean, looking back on this video, this social media video about Christmas in Naples, what the fuck is the big deal about someone just getting started? I can’t get a real “how are you?” from a friend that never calls me, that I make sure I reach out to — to say hello. But I get “concern” about a stupid social media post when I am concerned in the inverse about her priorities here. If my friend told me that she didn’t know if she was abused, for the love of GOD, by a member of her own family, that’s not what I’m saying to her. I’m saying, “hey, how are you? who gives a fuck about social media? Experimenting? OKAY.” So you know what, just like my other friend, I wrote her and told her that — roar. Maria is roaring. And you know what, remembering my bike ride through Central Park yesterday, in a state of disbelief, like if this is not COMEDY, I do not know what is, because these people are concentrating on being MEAN to me even! Look man, I needed channel MAJOR DAD energy last night on this restaurant floor. I was channeling MAJOR DAD BACK UP — on the psychospiritual plane. Fuck the imagination. That’s not real, in fact, we’re really just meeting on a PLANE, a psychic plane. And I was paging OBAMA, Matt Damon, Mark Wahlberg and Dave Chappelle — please! Help. So what? I don’t LOOK that great in a video? No shit Sherlock. I’m coming back from the dead, trying to decide if I even want to fucking be on these channels… when my friends turn out to be my biggest obstacles… so you know what? I’m sick of being disrespected in the name of CONCERN.
I’m so angry. I really am. I call her to say hello, and I get weirdly directed concern. “It’s so nice to hear from you, you sound great,” leave the SOCIAL MEDIA VIDEO BEHIND, it’s like no one gives a shit about social media, in the sense, that a VIDEO? Ever see someone post a video of themselves CRYING? People do that. I can’t try and make a joke out of an epic Christmas? It’s not that great of a video, OKAY. AGAIN, why are we talking about this? When I do not know if I have been ABUSED—feel me? I’m not on that LOW of a level! Enough. Enough. Across the board, my friends suck. They all SUCK. That’s what UNIQUE said, last night, as I was clearly upset, and you know what? I was having a GOOD DAY, actually, and this person has to KNOCK ME DOWN in the name of concern. It is I, who is, concerned. So no, I’m not taking it anymore. Who cares if the social media post SUCKS? I mean, truly speaking! But I can’t get “hey, how are you? How are you doing with all that? You alright?” GUESS WHAT? I’m not going to indulge here, I’m going to say, “up and down?” Obviously. So, I don’t know why, and I wish it weren’t the case, but it seems like I have to stand up for myself from beginning to end. And I don’t get the impression if I ever GET THERE for the love of GOD, that the public eye, Oprah, and we can play the stupid video, even, is going to BE CONCERNED OVER IT. I believe Oprah is going to be concerned about my friends, I really do believe that.
“You gotta start somewhere?”
I suppose I try to keep up social masks, I try to remain cordial and make room for people’s opinions — not in this case. Apparently, I gotta do that LESS, I gotta be really sharp, on guard, so… I hope I’m right, if that makes sense, because that truly ruined my day, and I don’t need that, honestly, after everything I’ve been through? She knows, I know she doesn’t like social media, but please, don’t put that on me. I just can’t even think, and these people’s CONCERN is so offensive considering they don’t give a SHIT about the real stuff. So let’s see if she even reacts, but I do think I have a point. A social media post shouldn’t be the thing to get concerned about, not that one, so it wasn’t a high quality image! So I was sardonic? I am trying stuff OUT. And it’s annoying, because, you see, I do not CARE about social media… it’s a TV channel in your pocket. Basically. And you’d think, me? And I’m sure Jay Shetty would be on my side, I would be talking to my friend, encouraging them, if they want to use these channels… maybe suggesting they don’t be afraid to share their wisdom? To really think about it? Maybe you’re ahead of your time in stating the obvious, that it is a TV channel, but maybe you can figure out how to make that work for you… you’re an amazing person, you have a lot of wisdom to share? Maybe you can make a Christmas in Naples channel? I don’t know, obviously that time is wrought because — holy shit, I didn’t even know what I was saying. My time with my cousins — they also BROKE my heart with DISBELIEF over the LEAST disturbing details! And do I hear from them anymore? NO, and you know what? I’m happy about it.
Last night, at work, I thought, please, just shine on me, please, a little light, a little support, let the Gods look at me with blessings — speaking of Naples — let Poseidon, even, and the siren bless my efforts… the journey home was horrific, I’m telling you, it really was. Full of dangers. Full of misunderstandings. Storms. Close calls. It was an epic battle, it truly was, and it was the ones closest to me, in this case, that were my greatest adversaries… it might not be a big deal, EXACTLY, but it is to me. My family was a shitshow. And I gotta, thinking about what JAY SHETTY would say to this RESISTANCE, deal with people who DON’T BELIEVE ME when I’m SIMPLY SAYING I do not know if I was abused…and specialists are nodding, “yes,” understandable, “you could have been given what you’re saying…” you see? And I came from a totally nonsensical family story! Filled with adopted mothers falling from the sky, also RUSSIAN, okay? It was a MESS, it always WAS. And I, without fail, have to keep getting hurt by those who are apparently closest to me… my friends. My family too.
In this Odyssey, we will go to the fluffy land of “this is yours, this is mine” people playing patty cake, robotically, on the greenest grass, the sunniest day, just a paradise on earth… where warnings are lurking… oh yeah, nicely, they’ll just kill you out of concern. Obama is — present, a guide, giving me the space to explore this territory. The epic is home, that’s for certain. So, I feel like I shouldn’t let stuff like this pass under the bridge, exactly, I don’t get “the test,” if you would, like, why I have to get angry, why I have to defend myself, but you know what? To my family, the WHOLE entity — I wasn’t wrong, assholes, YOU WERE. I took the shit for their entire ROUTINE. I had to change, “sure,” I am SECURE in my dialings with Barack Obama on the psychospiritual plane. “You got your four year old into a sex scandal, people. You wrapped up some STRANGER woman up in a sex scandal…” driving her temporarily insane if not permanently in regards to me. And it’s scary enough that they DIDN’T GET what they even DID! So no, it’s a giant no. And let me finish this stupid story, let me just finish it, you know? Just because it caused me nothing but grief, anguish, complications, nothing — it brought me NOTHING positive. Not one thing. The only thing it gave me was the key to help others open up about what they have been through — horrific tales, abuse, thievery, criminality, in a world that would judge them, condemn them, if not kill them. Just please, “are you putting your four year old in a sex scandal?” That caused a thief to laugh. “Enough!” I cried.
“You are not morally sick.”
This was the year I was invaded by the Russians.
“You would not DO THAT, right?”
“No,” he said, laughing. “Okay,” let’s just draw a line in the sand SOMEWHERE. “There is nothing more common than a thief, enough, it’s not that oooooh ahhhhhhh, okay? It’s not that special, but you, you are special, you are an extraordinary man, first.” You see? You see the difference in how I speak to a human being? Imagine, poking about him about some stupid photo on his wall. “You know, this photo, I’m concerned about you…” right, he would get it, “I’m concerned about you.” He always called me a light, he did, but this one, was that true? He knows, in the end, was that true? He would HUG me, goddammit. He would sit and hold space with me. Because what the fuck do you even say to that? “So now what?” He would ask “Well, I’m speaking to a specialist…” right, he would follow 100 percent.
Anyway, back to work. Alice Munro and her husband — forget the child molester — their responses were asinine and demeaning and unacceptable. Sexual abuse is a CRIME, and it’s really really true, right? People can get BRIGHT and CHEERY around the criminal line… like it doesn’t EXIST. It’s a magician act, a stupid one, where you’re pulling BUNNIES out of hats, “nice, sure.”