(I am still editing this. Right now I am going to a bar on New Years eve by myself. and the story behind that isn't even simple. So what follows is my unedited rough draft as I work on it. There is stuff I will delete and stuff I will expand upon. All I got are eye blinks of time to let it all out like puke. Gross, right? This is all craziness so I have too adjust it but not will take a while. This was what I could get out by New Years. THIS WILL DEFINITELY CHANGE. PLUS I'M ALREADYT TIPSY...)
Oh what a fucking month. What a fucking year, really. But that's LA. Best and worst place. A crucible. And you either survive or leave. But surviving is hard for everyone. Trying to add artistic stuff into it just makes it harder. But this is the place to do it.
So I got things to say. Bad things, good things(maybe), just plain gray area things.
I guess theres a twist. Just a twist in terms of recent life. I guess with everyone this long shit year. But at the same time I might have convinced my friends that I am truly crazy. I find it funny but their like, dude, you're crazy, and I'm like yeah, you're right, but I do find it hilarious. I know I sort of predicted the future on weird shit so I'm like, yeah, this is fucked up, but I said it way ahead of time, prophesy amount of time, so I don't know what else to say but it's funny that I'm only right in the worst ways. Bad ways. Ways I never want to be right. But there you go. I got some weird intuition. If I could predict the future with anyone else as well as I can with my buddy, I'd be a literal psychic, but as it is I just know some people and the situations that happen based on clues I'd never be able to articulate. So, for lack of a better word, I call it intuition.
What I'm doing here is sneaking out what little thoughts I'll let out, in the tiny moments I let them. But those windows of time are like 12 hours, maybe twice a month I'm like just let it all out. But then situations change and people change and whatever you thought before is tempered by new information and new angles at old relationships. That sentence was a lot of baggage in and of itself. And like I said I have only a window of time before my whole personality switches and I'm like fuck everyone else, I'm not talking about that shit.
That's why I haven't posted. Life is complicated. People are. I guess I am. I feel simple in so many ways but then I know my mind seems to be going to places that people I meet are not. Based on things I loved as a kid, moments in adult life, feelings, emotions. So I'm a hypocrite as well as truthful. An idiot, as well a someone trying to work complex systems of people and events to my own benefit.
Ugh. Heres the story. At least until I add shit next time I am not bashful(i.e.: I'm still editing and adding..and subtracting the stuff that is just too much, so catch it while you can).
The Dust Of Dreams
After the last post my relationship with that girl deteriorated. I saw it coming a mile away, but still, that sucks. That story goes crazy places somehow. That twist I mentioned. It was a bad argument and it was the kind that kills friendships but it was inevitable, especially once it went from weird friends to being treated like an ex boyfriend even though I never showed jealousy(because I wasn't).
You know shit is crazy when(in the last minute and a half, at 2:45) four or five very attractive 18 year olds are talking about going for a hike right now, and I'm like, fuck that I want to sleep, fuck these girls, I'm going to my room to write pithy diatribes about my life(and I just finished working for eight hours at a bar). This all sounds like I'm some sort of rich, suave motherfucker who's got his shit all together, or (rightfully so), one who doesn't. At the same time I did allow my life to have space for fucking around with actresses and models(sounds like a fucking joke but this is LA. and it's really like that) and some weird paths intersected here, with weird motifs and tensions. All the obvious stuff was thrown out for just fucked up twists everywhere. When I explained the whole story to a good female friend of mine, she was like, well you asked for an interesting life, you got what you wanted. And I said as I said of all this from the beginning, be careful what you wish for. I got my wish but not in any way I wanted it. With all that came so much fucking grief. So much adjusting and at times, nah, not adjusting because that ain't my thing. Or maybe it's only the outside that adjusts. And that fools everyone, but my center stays the same.
These are the shows I'm on: Mistresses(I'm a Grifter, lol, the crew were really nice to us extras and seemed to try to give us all good shots, I'm ordering drinks for a bunch of dangerous people, still laughing), Better Things(I really like that show, I think I'm in a montage during a concert scene behind the main actors, I don't see how the camera would have missed my face, but who knows I haven't seen it), Love(so ironic it hurts, I'm a crew member in the last episode of season 2, I think. My buddy is also on one of these last episodes, but not the same scenes), The Ranch(with the cast of That Seventies Show and a 2000's crush who I didn't meet because I had nothing to say, while I we were both alone at the coffee/food area), Girly Boss(?, I don't think you can see me anyway, I think I'm a blurry shoulder), Vengeance(I think this is a super hero one where I was in a smocks and mask so I don't think I could point myself out because there was like a hundred other people dressed the same), East Los High(I was in a wedding scene, working for like four days), Roadies( I think I'm a dot in the crowd. My friend was more prominently on this show, I actually really want to watch that episode), Toast(I was so hung over and sleepy during this . Thats the truth. I pretended to talk to this girl for like four hours. It would have been fun if I wasn't fucked up). The Battle Of The Sexes(I think thats the title. A movie with Steve Correl and Emma Stone. I play a Carl Sagan looking mother fucker on the sidelines of a historic tennis match. I'm just an extra but maybe you can see me. They had to keep resetting a shot, so everyone had to go to their original positions after about a minute of shooting. For some reason I was the only person out of 300 people who had walked like a hundred and fifty feet every take. In order to not be a shitty extra, I busted my ass back to the original position. So in this arena filled with hundreds of people, the director, all the way at the other end of the auditioriam thanks me through the loud speacker for hustling because it was saving everyone time. Also I almost got laid later for no apparent reason.)
I think I was on one or two more but I actually forgot. Somethings missing. I know I was on two shows
The Chain Of Dogs
This is the part where I work for two murderers.
Lord Of tragedy
And with all that, it was at this last minute I have convinced my best friends, people who have known me for decades, that yes, Adrian is fucking crazy. And I don't exactly disagree. I am currently living with her again. After six months.
At one point I told her that I had to tell a random person who would never see or meet her that , just in case, this girl living with me was my girlfriend. She said, yeah that makes sense, I'll tell the neighbors I'm your girlfriend. I wanted to smile so fucking bad , I was like, every dude is trying to get with her, I'm gonna look so fukcing rad, until I realized, wait a second, despite all this crap I don't want anyone thinking she's my girlfriend. No. That time passed and we's out, dude.
The Malazan Tales Of The Fallen
This Fucking Year
Now Wait For Last Year
I went out new Years eve. It was the first time I'd really been out not to catch up with old friends or hang out with my young friends(I hung out with my male and female roommates a lot, both 18 and 19, so thats why I didn't go out, plus I was broke). I met a (I'm sorry this was so fucking platonic, but ...) gorgeous lesbian. We hit it off(I think she thought I was bi because I am so open minded but I m
very solidly through biology very heterosexual, I just don't feel the need to stop people from being happy, so like what you like, my opinion is shit compared to what you like). We talked for hours and she moved us around in the bar(her girlfriend turned out to be the bartender who I crushed on two years before) so I was like okay, this is rad, this fun woman taking me around out of nowhere to meet new people is rad(I met the lead singer of a band I knew from the nineties because his jacket caught my eye and I decided to ask him about it. He designed it so he was very happy at the compliment.). I didn't get her number but then hung out with her girlfriend(at work so that sort of doesn't count) but no one was there so we ended up talking(never mentioned her girlfriend who I was there for, though). [parenthesis are are over the place and fucked, lol].
It's obvious I'm in the middle of a huge transition in my manner based on me breaking out of my little shell and discovering life is sort of good to me out here. Like unrealistically so. The dust of my dreams lying atop all my nightmares. A world too crazy to be real. But at the same time every story you ever heard. And my fucking ass somehow is in it. Deep. Like opposite life. Alternate reality. And I have to be cold steel. Once I was hot steel, angry and ready to just slide through people like butter, now I'm cold steel, removed, deliberate, precise. Not a bloody gash but a perfect incision. And its scares me. Scares me to have any power after never having any. I'm still clueless, I'm still sort of weak. But I know my true self does what he wants regardless of destiny or what people think I could ever do. It is about being the truest you possible. Never being weak to the outside and being strong for your inner self. Surpassing what others thought were impossible obstacles. I might have. I don't believe it but the truth is I am now spoiled and can't see the forest for the trees.
Today I complained because a girl wanted to hang out at 2 AM and get drunk. She flaked, but I don't even give a shit. 1. because I know she'll ask that again within days, and 2. I got other people in my life now. 18 year olds are fucking crazy and I'm fine with people at least closer to my age(truthfully, in their late twenties). I work at a bar, thats whats going on with all this 2 AM bullshit. Anyway the next night I come home thinking she isn't gonna be there, she's not going to have rent and ditch me hardcore, and she's there braiding her hair, dressed like it's 95 degrees and she's at the beach, but it's seriously half that, and saying she's been waiting for me to come home all night. Platonic. "Sleep down here tonight". Platonic. "Lets get really drunk". Very loosely platonic. I guess because of all the random life shit we've been through I'm just much more physical with her. Which is fine, we're very close, but then I don't know. Lines are crossed. I'm too old and moving on with my life to get stuck on these things. The actual problem is how hard I have to try to just not respond to some things to keep it all kosher. But when it isn't I don't say shit. But yeah, you start touching folks and it's just easy to go into old habits.
The story behind the painting is that sometime early last year me and the little maniac were living together. I was watching tv in the living room when she came home from an audition. She looked amazing because that's what you do for auditions. But she really wanted to smoke so I passed her the bubbler and she sat down. I took one look and was like, oh shit, don't move, I have to paint you like right fucking now. I'm something of a lustful painter when it comes to certain girls(muses) so I was in heaven. It wasn't a posed painting, I literally said don't move and keep doing what you're doing and I sat where I was sitting and did all the preliminary artwork.
Days later now, I'm watching Laser Moon with my roommate(a youtube video because we watched the whole Star Wars trilogy together when the little maniac first lived here). We're in my room innocently watching it. She feels tired so I walk her downstairs because she's easily spooked. We hear a noise. I heard it, she really heard it. And I'm like oh shit, now this is going to be like trying to make a baby sleep for the rest of the night after hearing what might have been nothing other then a next door neighbor shutting their door. Then there was more noise. Definite noise. And really, the only solution is to just go downstairs. So I did. Out of the kitchen walks my third roommate who has been gone for weeks in which now my friend has moved back in. And this roommate was there for months of drama and questions on what the fuck are these two to each other. So when , down the stairs my old friend pops out, it was sort of a shock. And also major WTF from her because she never knew us to be hanging out upstairs. So it turned out to look extremely suspicious. Plus it was fucking 4:30 in the morning. My guilty grin at, okay , maybe I should have told you who moved in just looked like I was really guilty for getting my hand caught in the cookie jar. It was a true Threes Company moment.
P.S.: Truth is you have to read almost the whole novel Deadhouse Gatres, one of the harshest most fucked up fantasy novels ever(cut half the novel, and you still have the Chain Of Dogs, a caravan of thousands of refugees trying to escape a jihad), to understand why I called this Felisin. I told the only friend who would get the reference(a guy in a successful band , not the one I mentioned) who got me into the Malazan novels, especially Deadhouse Gates(because I didn't really like Gardens Of The Moon, the first novel, very much at all) and I met one of the most fucked up characters in fantasy, Felisin Paran. Apparently most readers hate her. I was more on the fence. But yeah, I told my friend, yo I lived with Felsisn, now I live with Shi'iak, the Whirlwind. And he totally knew exactly what I meant. I told him I may have methodded the whole rock star thing more than I thought because LA has become a living Neon Demon to me(the movie has elements that are so close to my life that are completely fucking weird).