A Corner

... of sorts.

It's mid July. I'm 24. I've lost Steve. I haven't seen my son William yet even though his mother has been deemed unfit after another anorexic meltdown. I just got fired from my job for no reason; I am still too proud.

I want to be a writer, still. This is the first thing I've written since Steve died. I'm trying to stop grinding my teeth. Apparently teeth-grinding is a symptom of the recession. I've always wanted a difficult life. I've always wanted to need to strive to climb out of each morning.

I want to be in love, again. I want to have somebody really care that things should turn out as beautifully as possible. Simple things like listening to the sound of cars or trying to agree upon something that makes you cry. These are things that you don't need to plan ahead for. They are things that you need to be constantly prepared for. I am rarely on point and, worse, have some unfinished philosophy about my ego that doesn't allow for an honest apology:

One the way home from going to a concert with Jessie I received 23 text messages from Janice, a voice-mail and then a phone call. We were at the Smith & 9th St. station. Janice was using a number I didn't recognize. I answered and felt immediately worthless and embarrassed. I felt I would weep about it later. There was no use staying in the moment; I lost focus of the subway station wall as Janice went on about something. Jessie sat down and flipped open her phone. I wanted out of the situation in the best way possible. An impossible task. I said goodbye to Janice and asked Jessie if she wanted to go to the Bronx on Saturday. What's in the Bronx? She wanted to know. I told her I'd never been there. I should have told her that we'd be there. Maybe there's an adventure , a Donnie Darko portal that is really just our future selves having fun. She said her ex-boyfriend was coming to see a free show they saw every year. The Siren Festival. It would be weird. I said Well fuck you and walked away. I gave the peace sign and smiled. I don't know how that came off.

The other day I drank a protein drink and shat myself walking home from the Smith & 9th Station. I felt adrenaline and loved the mind that could drag an incontinent cluster of organs up four flights and into the shower.

I should just shut up with all this nonsense but I won't shut up anymore. I shut up for four months now and it isn't working.

13 comments:

  1. J.

    I hope you do not think i am stalking you; i most certainly am not. i am curious, naturally, as to what the father of my son thinks about and what his existence is made of. In a perfect world, we, as procreators of the same flesh and blood, could be marginally civil toward one another. But I do believe we both are well aware that this world is far from perfect.

    I am past the anger, past the hurt, past the dwelling on could have been and what should have been. I have accepted the fact that I acted hysterically and have crept away quietly at last -- at first, my tail between my legs, and now, painting again, loving again, laughing again...almost back to normalcy and moving onward and upward. God is good, all the time.

    But you are intelligent. I do not need to tell you these things.

    I just wanted to remind you, after I had read this blog post of yours, of The Thing i told you while i was happily, crazily, thinking-i-was-in-love, dangling upside down from the chin-up bar in my Gramercy Park kitchen doorway and talking to you on one of the first few nights we were together.

    I told you if ever i wished you to remember anything i shared with you, it would be this one thing. You replied that you loved me because I made you "want to be a better man."

    I told you, once upon a time, that there were three MOST IMPORTANT sentiments one human could ever express to another. These three sentiments were a) Thank you, b) I'm sorry, and c) I love you.

    That is all I wanted to say. I have no hard feelings toward you, no expectations of ever seeing you again, and really and surprisingly, no feelings whatsoever about that. I just want for you peace of mind and pray that you will find a place in your heart and mind in which you are at home with the world and with yourself. It is a beautiful place to be, even if it seems "insane" and scary at times.

    Embrace you. Life is such a gift. Thank you for giving that gift to sweet WIlliam James.

    I hope one day you think of me not as a villian, but as a woman who once tried in vain to teach you something. Not as a "megalomaniac", but as someone who worked very hard to achieve wealth as a means to afford things of beauty. Things of beauty make artists happy. To this day I make a point to surround myself with beauty. (Nature, I find, does indeed cost less than Chanel. But hey -- you also do not need ot be otld that New York CIty plays games with the minds of mortals.)

    It is too bad, really, that we ran away from each other mutually bitter, but these things happen. I wish you better luck next time. I am counting on Providence with complete faith.

    Peace.
    JC

    ReplyDelete
  2. p.s. --
    I harbor no expectations of any sort of a reply. You always did give me the silent treatment. I would tell you that it was a form of passive aggression, and silent as a stone you would remain.

    But read your post, at the end. Did it, does it, work for you as a personal dynamic?

    If that is what you need to do, then that is simply what you need to do. Nothing more. Nothing less.
    That is all...namaste.
    j

    ReplyDelete
  3. hahaha. Nice one. I see you have not changed, but now I say this dispassionately, for I do not care any more. YOU follow MY Blog, which is ridiculous in the first place -- considering that you purportedly would like to forget I ever existed.

    So, i get a little green notification to go check your blog or that you just read mine (defunct anyway, lol), or however these stupid thing operate, and you have blocked me.

    Your e-version of a "F*ck you." You still cannot speak, can you?

    Still you are a coward, Jordan. I am sorry to bear the brunt of such truth. If your only means of communique is through a glowing screen, well - by this measure, you ARE a worm.

    Good bye, lover. I hope you feel better about yourself one day...until then, you shall continue to project your own self-loathing onto others.
    The pathetic part is, the wise ones see right through it.
    Your behavior is as transparent as freshly polished glass.

    JC
    ps you can block me here too. THe honor is all mine. :)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Post-script addendum:

    I am gathering who the sociopath is here, as are my friends.
    Here's a clue:
    It ain't me, babe.
    Leave us -- me and my beautiful boy -- alone.
    Forever. You are not wanted here.
    Capisce?

    <3 take care and may God help you.
    JC

    ReplyDelete
  5. after reading your Taiwanese friend's (heehee) apology this morning, I must apologize in kind.
    Peace, brother.
    Wishing you the best of luck in everything you do, and all happiness. <3
    NAMASTE
    JJC

    ReplyDelete
  6. P.S.S.S.S.SSSSSSS!!!!!

    is it okay if i stalk you now?

    :P
    J

    (*insert evil snicker here*)

    ReplyDelete
  7. Please consider above comments deleted. THere is no delete button unfortunately, but I feel I was an idiot to even think I could try to communicate with you. COnsider this my official giving up and Merry CHristmas. What a waste of time and typing.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Five days later and boy,
    do i ever feel like the asshole of the millennium :P
    ROFLMAO !!!

    If nothing else, i am honest, no?

    Nice to see you again, old friend.
    Be good.
    No don't. At least, not TOO good.
    That is never any fun.

    Trust me...
    I know from experience.

    The evidence is sleeping in his crib.
    Making him WAS fun,
    i must admit.

    Good night and take good care.

    All's fair in love and war...
    xox peace. jjc

    ReplyDelete
  9. OK lovey. Rest in peace, this is all i have left to say to you, but Merry Christmas.

    After last night, I thanked God for a huge gift he gave to me. I saw the REAL you, without the romance of my memory.

    I am free at last.
    I never, ever want to see you or think about you
    or remember you, or even have a vague sense of
    anything about you
    EVER, everevereeveragain.

    You are one SICK motherfucker.
    Sorry.

    It's in my "creepy little" nature to simply
    call a spade a spade.

    I am praying that Jesus helps you,
    and also that you seek some professional help.

    Most sincerely,
    The mother of your only son, William James Cunningham.

    ReplyDelete
  10. oh, and by the way -- after nine months plus about three years of pain, sorrow, and tears...and regret (!!!) -- and bearing your child,
    i would like to most heartily THANK YOU
    for the Christmas card you did not even
    have the respect
    to honor me with.

    Your EX. EX. EX. :)

    ReplyDelete
  11. The VERIFICATION word to publish this one was [sic] ASHOL.
    The irony is not lost on this smart lady...HAHA!!!
    GOD works in mysterious ways, does he not?
    :D

    ReplyDelete
  12. Papa JD,

    1. i am deeply sorry
    2. thank you so much
    3. i love you

    pax eternum...carpe diem -- tempus fugit.
    xox
    jjc
    NAMASTE

    ReplyDelete
  13. you
    have a blue-eyed
    soul.

    Love,

    ...

    BrownEyesBlackHair

    ReplyDelete