Friday, October 3, 2008


It's just 10 minutes right, how long can that be. To write about something for that long seems endless, especially when it's just to write about nothing with no purpose. I have been wanting to write a one person show for ages now, but haven't been able to. I know there is a story inside me that is screaming to get out, but it's scared to come out.

While attempting to write this epic story, I have found myself stalled on several occasions. I know what I want to write, what I need to say, but it doesn't seem to come out, it stays stuck in some neuro-pathway unable to escape the hell I am putting it through. Once complete, will people come to see it? Will they want to hear what I have to say? Will they still like me after I've said it? By writing what I need to write, I will be exposing people to the inner working of my head. Which, I must say, is a scary place to be.

I have closed myself off from people in attempt to save my self the heart ache of people. How they fuck you over in the end. A teacher once told me that the best friends I would make would not be in elementary school. Wow, was she wrong. Sure some of them screwed me over, but at then end of the day we were still friends and played jump rope. We weren't sneaky and selfish like people are when they grow up. They didn't intentionally do it, but now girls do, and that's jacked up.

I try to pinpoint the exact moment I lost faith in my fellow girlfriend and I think I found it. Her name was Renee and she was a piece of work. It ended with her slowly moving my belongings from the living room into my bedroom in the apartment we shared and then eventually she stopped talking to me, and when she did, she would physically turn her back to me. Now let me tell you, I am a very easy going person, I go with the flow. I had just moved to the big city and we had lived together for 6 months or so and all I wanted to do was have fun. I had made friends at work and always invited her out with us. So what did I do wrong? I dated, but still invited her out. I knew it had all ended when I was in the hospital for a day-patient procedure and the hospital I was at was just down the street from her office. She was scheduled to pick me up at 4:30. Well I got done a little earlier and the nurse called her, and she told the nurse that she could not leave. WTF? First off, the health care system in the U.S. is jacked up, dude I just finished getting small thingies removed my body and have been unconscious all day and have been in recovery for a mere half hour and now you want to kick my drugged ass out?

She worked in a doctors office, they would've understood! I realize I sound like the selfish one now, but I beg to differ, because when the nurse asked if I had someone else to call, I gave them the number of a guy I had been only seeing a couple of weeks (and who by the way, did not know I was in the hospital) AND HE LEFT WORK TO COME AND GET ME. Now you're probably thinking, of course he did, he wanted "something" in return. But I disagree. Had the tables been turned, I would've left work early to pick up her selfish ass, so no I am not selfish.

So after this rant, she is where my distrust with people started. Next came the two secretaries that I worked with at my first grown-up job. The first, went and told the owners of the company that I had slept with one of the partners at the office (who was married to one of the other partners). TOTALLY NOT TRUE. She also had the impression that I was trying to steal away her high school boyfriend, whom I had met only once, while very intoxicated and was SO NOT MY TYPE. I'm not really into big reservation guys. Tall yes, girthy no (which he was). I also think she was disappointed in me for not being the Indian princess she was. Her mother was some tribal big wig and she lived and breathed being Indian (even though she didn't even speak her language the hypocrite) at least I am aware of what I don't know.

Next was her pal, who again was damaged goods. She was my first exposure to people living beyond their means and not giving a damn about it. That should have been my first clue, but I am or at least I was, just like a little puppy, I just wanted someone to pet me? I thought she was a friend and treated her as such, sharing things with her and in the end she got laid off/fired from the company and never called me again.

It has now been 10 years, phewph that's a long time, yet I still harbor this resentment and I have grown accustomed to not sharing with anyone, not even my partner. Why should I? it's like talking to a wall. I used to get upset by the non-response, but again I have resigned myself to them not listening, so I've just stopped sharing.

Thus is the reason I have all this bottled up angst that is stopped in my throat like a cork. I am a shaken bottle of Prosecco with the wires of the cork straining to hold the bubbles in. Fear takes me over to think of what would happen if the wires failed. All my bubbly goodness would be shared with the world and I would be nothing but an empty bottle to be placed in the recycling bin.

I guess, to be reincarnated as something else, but what?