Echo

I just realized I worked on the same floor as the Italian American Chamber of Commerce West for 4 years, shared the elevator with them, passed them in the halls and saw them in the bathroom, and I’ve never said more than “Hi” to any of them.

How does that happen? That you can pass the same people every day, and never connect? Never want to connect?

I spent a good deal of my life too angry and numb to care about anything. And it was all because I’m so sensitive, I care about almost everything.

And now I’m in a different place.

Very aware. Very detached.

Balanced and at peace.

Today was a powerful day. And I tried to make the best decisions in every one of my choices and interactions. I would say I was…not necessarily nice (I did laugh at a woman who was too impatient to wait in line)…but…big.

What I do with people happens on a very small but very fast level. But the effects are very rich and all-encompassing. It happens when I pay attention. I intuitively know what things to focus on, what things should be brought to the surface. But I’m not aware of it, until I review experiences in hindsight. If people ever noticed that I spent the first 25 years of my life never really looking people in the eye, it was because I didn’t know what to do with it yet…what happens when eyes connect. I didn’t know how to balance the things I perceived with physical reality. But now, to an extent, I do.

I have learned to be careful. I know when someone looks me in the eyes and is dishonest. It is actually very uncomfortable for me. I don’t always know what the dishonesty is or why it’s there–it could be massive, it could be insignificant. It could have everything to do with them and nothing to do with me. But it’s there. A flicker in their image that makes me question what they’re hiding. But I put in tremendous effort towards disciplining my instinctual desire to chase the roots of what’s being hidden. That is how people trap me, since I have quite the taste for human mystery, what is at their deepest darkest core. But it’s unproductive. I have shit to do. So lately, I’ve chosen people who can look me openly in the eye, and be honest to the best of their ability, while being respectful of me and the connection.

Outside of one 14 year-old queen bee hipster chick trying to seem cool (what was she thinking!!), and AD (yeah, I totally just put him in the same group as a teenage girl), no one has tried to start shit for the sake of starting shit. I’ve called truce on fighting with people for the sake of fighting. What I have been projecting energetically to the insecure shitstarter types, is a sleeping lion. I will be kind and courteous, but do not forget what I am. That has kept the majority of that kind of life drama out of the way.

I am very, very, very, very, very, very, very happy about being single when I get to Seattle. Very, very very. Very. Don’t know why. Just am.

Saw the preview to new Aniston movie, set in…Seattle. I was damn near orgasming every time they showed an aerial shot of the Space Needle or the city. Oh my God, Oh my God, I kept saying as I rocked in my chair. I’m so happy, I said to Brian. We know, he said. He’s happy for me.

There were so many good lines in 500 Days of Summer. The one that comes to mind first is:

Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
Fuck you, whore.

the gray skies finally broke yesterday, so i headed out to the other room to watch the sunset and read the little prince. the sky was an ethereal palette, and at the table next to me was a group of happy italians. it was a wonderful way to spend dusk.

this morning, i got up as brian was taking his car to the dealership. i remembered that mine is due for a scheduled maintenance as well, and i want to get it done before i drive up to seattle, which will be as early as the week after next.

so i called, got an appointment and headed over. the rep they gave me was paul, this thai guy i worked with 2 years ago, the last time i took it in.

i told him the engine still does that weird thing where as i’m accelerating, it feels like it drops for a few seconds into neutral as the rpm spikes, then sudden kicks hard like getting kicked in the butt by a horse. he offered to do a test drive with me.

while we were driving, we started talking and the conversation turned to life potential when i mentioned the reason i haven’t brought my car back in the last year even though i’m still having the same issue, is because i was living in europe. he asked me about it, and mentioned that he feels he’s been living in la for too long and wonders if it’s time for a change.

man, these are the types of people i always connect with–deeper, passionate people with such high potential…at a crossroad.

so we talked and it was a good connection. i told him about the list i made in 2007, and how 2 years later, i’ve somehow done everything except for one thing, but i have faith it will happen when the time is right. it didn’t matter what the actual item point was, just that once it happens, my list will be completed, proof that if you believe in things enough and have enough faith in yourself, life can be exactly what you try to make of it. he asked what the last item was, and i told him, to meet a basketball player i have great respect for. i told him i was close…lately, a lot of people that i’ve been meeting are friends of his, and we almost met a couple of weeks ago, but the timing didn’t feel right so i was glad when it didn’t happen.

he tells me that he’s from thailand, and whenever he goes back, he doesn’t want to leave. that he thinks he could be very happy, making less money but enough to have a comfortable life there, but he also has a wife who doesn’t want to go, and a son to think about. i told him that there’s always a balance, there’s always compromise. that sometimes, we have to make realistic considerations, but that should never stop our hearts and minds from looking at things for their highest potential. somewhere in between will be a balanced situation that will be “enough.” whatever is right for us, we’ll be happy with, because it’s enough. but first we must discover what that place is, and what it looks and feels like.

he dropped me off at urth cafe and said he’d call me when my car was ready. i did my free write, and finished the little prince.

first of all….

wow.

another example of books and magic. reading this was exactly what i needed to read at the exactly right time, and scarily resonant of the things i’ve been writing for a long time, down to some of the symbols that are motifs in my world.

here’s something interesting.

so the bahamas cruise was shallow and in a way difficult. like superficial forces in the world were challenging the reality of my rich, inner world, and challenging my beliefs. i felt so lonely being around these people, that there were so many points i would do anything just to be alone.

the 2nd night, i cut out early and went back to the room. i’d had a nasty encounter with this man at the blackjack table and was done being around people. hong had wanted to play blackjack so i sat down, playing 3rd base which is where i like to be. i feel that i’m a trustworthy 3rd baseman, willing to do what’s necessary for the table. so there was this older man between hong and i. he had terrible energy, very negative, and kept talking to me, wanting to know where i was from, etc. i was keeping my answers polite but short. when he found out i’m from la, he said he was too. he said, i’m a lawyer, and a usc guy, like i should be really impressed. i didn’t respond, pretending i was concentrating on my cards. instinctually, i was wary of this guy.

he repeated again, i’m a lawyer and usc guy, his eyes burning through me. okay, i said, not looking up.

you know what usc, is right? like the place that runs everything.

(i hate usc. i spent a summer there, and find the whole culture symbolizes arrogance and false entitlement)

so finally, i say, “yes, i know what usc is. i’m not a big fan, but i didn’t say anything because i was trying to be polite.”

he doesn’t respond, but still keeps trying to get in with me. he wants to know how old i am but i ignore the question, so he announces to the table how old he is. 51. he says he’s venezuelan, but i don’t respond. i can feel his eyes on me. then suddenly he says, “what are you, like a poker player or somethin’???”

the waitress comes around to take drink orders and he says to me, “you want somethin’, honey?” the moniker made me clench my teeth. no thank you, i say, politely.

when i lost a couple of hands in a row, he looked over at my pile and said, don’t worry, you can use my money if you want.

i pretended not to hear him. i have money, asshole. and even if i didn’t, i wouldn’t want yours.

i was also kind of irritated with this middle-aged indian guy at 1st base who couldn’t play. engineers pride themselves in being so logical, but sometimes they’re very arbitrary; they just don’t recognize when emotion is coloring their decisions. he kept hitting on a 15 or 16 against the dealer showing 6. it was driving me crazy.

the last straw was when this big white dude with a handlebar moustache asked if he could sit to my left, thus becoming 3rd base. i moved over so he could sit, then old man venezuela asks him if he’s with me. it was kind of absurd. the guy looks confused, then says, no. and here’s the kicker.

that question was just an excuse to do this:

venezuela introduces himself, sticking out his hand to shake the guy with the handlebar’s hand. but he does it behind me, so he can run the back of his hand and forearm across my bare back, shake the guys hand, then slowly rub against my skin again as he pulls his hand back.

this was clearly a gross and inappropriate act of froderism.

the panther inside me let out a low snarl, baring teeth.

venezuela looks at me out of the corner of his eye. i refuse to show any acknowledgment or give him eye contact. he’s an idiot standing at the edge of a cliff, the line so much closer than he thinks.

i look at hong.

i’m ready to go when you are, he says, naive to what were probably his own instincts.

let’s go, i say, already out of my chair. don’t even look at that sad, pathetic person.

(*saw him a couple times afterwards, once with his family while waiting for the elevator. he lowered his head and shifted behind his son when he saw me, but i saw him)

*****
that incident really irritated me, and the rest of the group was just sitting around drinking, so i went back to my room to write. i wrote about this incident, and some other things. i mentioned,

Children, whether good or bad, always find their way home. The question is, is this a good or bad thing?

the last thing i wrote was something that had popped into my head while watching the sunset earlier, and that i’d been thinking about all night:

I will never allow myself to be dominated. But I would like to be tamed.

tamed? where did that come from? i had no idea what it meant. but i don’t always understand the meaning of things that come out
of my mind or mouth. only that in some way, i can feel they ring true, but i just don’t know in what way yet.

*****
so as i’m sitting at urth cafe today, i get to the part where the little prince meets the fox, and the fox explains what it means to be tamed. i was sitting outside on a clear, beautiful day with the sun shining down, my body reverberating with chills as soon as i read that word.

“‘But if you tame me, my life will be filled with sunshine. I’ll know the sound of footsteps that will be different from all the rest. Other footsteps send me back underground. Yours will call me out of my burrow like music. And then, look! You see the wheat fields over there? I don’t eat bread. For me wheat is of no use whatever. Wheat fields say nothing to me. Which is sad. But you have hair the color of gold. So it will be wonderful, once you’ve tamed me! The wheat, which is golden, will remind me of you. And I’ll love the sound of the wind in the wheat…'”

holy shit. so this must have been what my soul meant when it had written that line about wanting to be tamed, as i walked through my loneliness despite being surrounded by a sea of people.

then when the fox tells the prince a secret — “One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes.”… i suddenly understood a line i had written a couple of weeks ago in my free-write while on the cruise to alaska, the day after being mesmerized by christian but not knowing what to say:

What happened to my eyes that I can’t see, yet I can see so much? In an echoing world of blindness, you find yourself a god to hang on to and you fight your way towards him with all you’ve got.

i’ve really noticed that it’s become glaring, how i can’t tell people’s age anymore, their status, their superficial “types.” i’ve always been able to see deep into people, but since i came back from amsterdam, i can still see deep, and now these psychic intangible but very powerful impressions are what i put the majority of my faith and trust in, but i can’t seem to see shallow anymore. so the best i’ve been able to do to cope is to trust that these impressions, these feelings i get that i hold to be true but which other people can’t seem to see, are in fact real, even though i can’t seem to distinguish things that other people seem to hold to be most real.

relief. reading this made me feel relief. that i am not just okay, but i am better than okay.

then, i suddenly had a curiosity. i flipped to the back of the book to check antoine de saint-exupery’s bio, and calculated his birthday. i started laughing. a bittersweet laugh.

he’s a 9.

like me.

no wonder.

the soul expression and life path of 9 is a beautiful, expansive one, but a bittersweet one. often lonely. there is much time spent looking out into the sky, listening to echoes.

a man asked if he could share my table because the cafe had gotten crowded, and so he sat across from me, eating soup and working on a crossword puzzle. i got to the part where they’re looking for the well, and the narrator is carrying the little prince in his arms. he says, “‘What moves me so deeply about this sleeping little prince is his loyalty to a flower–the image of a rose shining within him like the flame within a lamp, even when he’s asleep…And I realized he was even more fragile than I had thought. Lamps must be protected: A gust of wind can blow them out.'”

my eyes teared up. i was exasperated with myself but i couldn’t stop. it was going to happen. tears spilled. oh, how embarrassing in public i can be.

like david gray wrote and which i always repeat, “the only things worth living for are innocence and magic.”

the man asked me if i was okay. yes, i said.

but even if i knew why i was crying, i wouldn’t have told him.

antoine, you beautiful fellow 9 traveler…

thank you.

*****
when i got back to the dealership, i sat with paul for a while, talking to him about his life path and goals. i told him to write everything down and put the list where he could see it every day. so many people don’t even really know what they want in life, so the first step is to know what you want. be specific. how can life give you what you want, if you are unclear yourself about what you are asking for?

there was suddenly a loud crunch.

he jumped up. oh no, he said. someone hit your car!

we went outside and it was this little old lady who had been trying to drive out of the service area but misjudged the space. my back bumper was dented.

she felt really bad and was shaken up, but i told her it was okay, and laughed about how these things happen. it’s just one of those things, and maybe this little accident prevented something bigger. that maybe if she had driven out, she might have been hit by some idiot texting someone and not paying attention. sometimes these little inconveniences are life’s way of protecting you from the big tragedies.

so i spent time talking to her so she wouldn’t fall into a negative affect cycle. i learned that she’s from calgary, retired, and was a former biology and chemistry teacher. that she had been living in la since 2003, but had originally moved to cupertino with her husband after they’d retired. that she has 2 sons who are writers as well, one on the simpsons, and one on bones. i tell her that a good friend of mine, jessie, is an assistant to one of the simpsons writers, and text her to find out who. jessie texts back the guy’s name, but says she knows the woman’s son and that he’s a really nice guy. the woman was happy to hear that, and i tell her that children who grow up to be nice people show that they were the product of good parenting. someone from the body shop comes out to give an estimate, and we exchange information. she thanks me again for being so nice and for not being angry and yelling at her, and i said, i’m very happy with my life, so it’s easy for me not to be stressed about little things. life unfolds the way it unfolds, so you can either resist it, or make the most out of every moment.

paul walks me to the front to get my paperwork done. he tentatively asks me how i feel about the accident, if i’m upset, and i laugh and say, “i’m too happy with my life right now to get upset about anything.” he says that these things sometimes are blessings, that maybe because this accident happened, it kept me from getting into a bigger one if i had left when i was going to leave.

i started laughing. that’s exactly what i told her!, i said.

i tell him that perhaps the next time i see him, his life will be in a completely different place. i told him that i feel he’s on his right path, and he’s going to be very happy. he thanks me for the talk and tells me, good luck in seattle. before he leaves, he asks, who’s the basketball player who’s the last one on your list?

i laugh. baron davis, i said. my family and i sat behind the warriors bench during that miracle run, and he and i used to exchange looks a lot. he’s on my list just for proof…so people can see that i did “magically” accomplish what i set out to do. proof of the effect of faith and belief in yourself, that life gives you exactly what you ask of it. plus, baron and i have got it in us to be good friends.

he laughs as he shakes my hand. that’s truly amazing, he said.

stretching someone professionally does not lead into erotic massage. that is ridiculous.

as predicted, last month’s trial came in the realm of karmic love, and this week’s would come as sexual boundaries. can i maintain my own boundaries? can others respect them?

the overall answer is, yes. you must.

it doesn’t matter what you set out to do. it’s a matter of if you believe in yourself to carry it through. and this was how i chose to discover the extent of myself.

i’m going to seattle next week. everything is coming together so quickly, so easily, almost like slipping through a doorway into another room. it surges me with courage, how sure i am that i need to do this now, and i feel it is an overwhelming feat, but i will have faith in myself.

i suddenly understand what people mean now about finding the right place. i’ve been unhappy in la for a while. not unhappy with my life, but unhappy with the city and what it does to people. but to be honest, i also need it because it rejuvenates me and i treat it like a trampoline…it’s so healing yet repulsive, it pushes me into the next place in my life. love/hate…though beautiful with everything a person needs. i don’t think seattle is my home base, but i feel it will mean something to me. it has always reminded me of the place inside myself where i hold my deepest, most peaceful things. it has always felt similar.

i am walking into it with optimism and realistic eyes. i’m not looking to “find” something in seattle. i’m most excited about what i will “do.” that puts all the responsibility (opportunity) on me, but also, gives me the passion and reins to make something unbelievable out of it. when it comes to drive, i’m a winning horse. just have to maintain focus and have faith.

Things I Will Do:

1. Finish Secret Life of Lies.
2. Publish Bleeding Blue.
3. Win an award for Off the Strip.
4. Write a successful personal empowerment book.
5. Become a recognized healer.
6. Become a powerful speaker.
7. Before I die, lay it all down in The Guide to Recognizing Your Soulmates.
8. Meet a man named Chauncey.
9. Find the blue man with olive skin.
10. Be surprised when it happens.
11. Own the luxury writing cave with a balcony facing west with views of the water.

Classes I would like to take:

1. Photography
2. Spanish
3. Mythology
4. Comparative Religion
5. Behavioral Neuroscience
6. Ballroom Dancing
7. Photoshop

i have been pondering the mystery of my post last week about the man who will give me away. i feel like by giving it time, down the road, it will become clear.

new moon today. no moon today.

every time i write the word “Seattle,” my toes wiggle from giddiness!

wow, i’m not messing around. have told my parents and close friends i’m going to seattle, e.t.a. 3 weeks. have contacted housing agents and sent out my resume to amazon and some other marketing/sales positions. talked with a headhunter, will send out more resumes. will have to plan to go up next week during the week to meet.

get ready, seattle. i’m comin’ like a freight train…

The Devil card is often misunderstood and feared. However, before Christianity became a leading religion, there were several pantheons which contained fertility gods and they were often depicted as animals – the Horned God of the Wicca for example, servant and consort of the Goddess. The Devil does not therefore necessarily represent an evil being.

The Devil is the personification of the animal, instinctual and even bestial parts of us. Pre-occupation with matters connected to the Devil can lead to degradation and sheer ugliness, but by identifying and accepting the darkness within we learn to discover that it is simply the dark side of our light.

Affirmation: I am free to do as I choose.

(source)

i don’t abide by any religion or concrete system of belief. but i do believe that sometimes what people fear most, within themselves and how they see the world and others, is that a person can ultimately choose to be free.

oh, the most beautiful man walking his dog at the park.

i smiled leaving my car, crossing the street, then stopped in my tracks because for a second i thought he was tr knight. i love tr knight and always want to stop and talk. but then i realized he was not tr. he was taller and leaner, with giant, clear eyes. and kind of gorgeous from the inside out. he waved. i waved. pretended i was waving at the dog? yes i did. walked away. stunned.

i’ve never come to the cafe at this time. have never seen him before. this is what i like about venice. you can see the same people, or you can never see the same people. it’s like lazy waves on a beach.

the indulgence of the idea was tempting. but i immediately wiped the image of whatever i thought i saw from my mind. not the time. now i probably wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a police line-up. i’m trying to stay focused. there’s a time and place for everything.

leave the difficult people for the difficult people.

i want an easy one. one who glows.

last one. let’s make it happen.

seattle!!!!! i’m finally ready to give things a try with you.

okay, so i couldn’t help myself. posted this for AD, and it contains my final reaction.

love

word, Past Julia. you had it right the first time.

nothing is real. that’s the secret isn’t it? and here i am, believing everything is real.

just want be left alone for a while.

how much of reality do you believe? how do you interpret positive from negative? what is okay, and what is not okay?

my life…whenever i’m given a choice, i always choose the one that will lead to something new. something interesting. sometimes it’s conscious, sometimes i only understand my motivations in hindsight (perhaps for some of them, i will never fully understand). but there’s always a moment of hesitation when i make a choice…

do i commit to experiencing this new potential that is in the present, or do i maintain my stance, and not get caught up?

is it okay, how i am living my life?

i’m not very motivated to write about the cruise, but i will. eventually. probably not linearly. but i feel the most important thing to know is that my shadow side, my mischievous side, was coming on so strong, i could feel it in my teeth. it became so urgent, as we headed out after dinner the first night, i had to pull cody aside and tell her, i feel a sin coming on… but yet, i was very, very good. outputted it all carefully. positively. did not physically seduce anyone for sport. accepted that the weekend would not feature any deep connections, yet did not create superficial connections out of boredom or frustration. i felt my soul being asphyxiated, but i bore it with discipline and a sense of humor. there were times i fell into my shadow…i was a silent panther prowling the jungle, but not for hunt, but to be myself, my silent powerful self, and explore my domain. i can cite 3 incidences where i somehow became invisible. or was perceived that way.

1. first dinner. was wearing black. sat down and waitress gave everyone a menu but skipped me. not sure how she did that. she took their order. left. i had to ask her for a menu. later, she came back, picked it up and left. came back. said she realized i didn’t order.

2. second night. a couple dressed as pirates and a photographer came by, taking pictures with people dining, one by one (yeah, i know. pirates. i was expecting cowboys and indians next, or maybe richard simmons. this cruise line knew how to work the photo ops). i was in the 2nd row, end of the table. they took pictures with everyone at the table next to us, then moved to us. crap, i thought. i don’t want my picture taken. i’m feeling camera shy this trip. shadowy. they came to our table and took pictures with everyone at our table across from us. then they came to our side, and went straight to karen sitting next to me but completely skipped me like they didn’t even see me. the pirates took pictures with everyone down our row, then moved to the table behind us. the photographer followed, and i grinned. i’m invisible!, i thought. i accidentally caught his eye. he saw me with that big i-got-away-with-something grin. wait, he said. you didn’t take a picture! (damn)

3. third night. sarita convinced me to play craps. so i played the usual–6, 8, 9. except whenever i would win, they would give my money to sarita. i thought maybe i was mistaken, but it happened quite a few times. i didn’t get anything for my bets and they kept paying to sarita next to me. at one point she even said, why am i getting money? i have no bets down. i said, i think they’re paying you for my bets. next time, 8 hit (i had money on it) and they paid out. i took the money and the dealer said, no, that’s hers, pointing to sarita. you placed the bets for me, i said. she doesn’t even have bets down! he looked at me like he didn’t know who the fuck i was, like i’d suddenly appeared (we were the only two people on that side of the table). he looked at the pit boss who shrugged. this is weird, sarita said. let’s go.

it’s like i was hidden by shadows.

*****

my body and mind were able to run separately. i felt that dance floor like liquid sex. but in the meantime, i was watching everyone. and watching no one. i was alone in me.

people respected my being. i was unbridled light as my inner world plunged into darkness. i was completely balanced and peaceful. i could be in a dance club, feeling the night like it was coming out of my soul, and be aware of people trying to connect on the periphery, but if i didn’t acknowledge their presence, they wouldn’t come near me. i was in complete control of my experience. every once in a while, some guys, young spirits, would try to get my attention. nothing would change inside me, except in my mind, through my eyes, i would think…if a guy truly thinks he’s strong enough to play with me and respect me for me, then let’s see what you’ve got.

to be honest, they all kind of ran away. i don’t think anything of it. just that you have to believe you’re good enough to approach someone, in order to be good enough. same for me–there are some people who can still make me chicken out. but if i do, it’s because deep down, i probably didn’t feel i was good enough to connect with them, and therefore, i made it so. reality and perception are just so truthful like that. and the guys would watch from the shadows, but left me alone without any games.

i started pulling inward by the 2nd day, reaching a quiet sense of integrity and peace. didn’t have much to say outside of funny moments and jokes when the moment begged for them. the energy was too shallow. it wasn’t engaging me. so like a computer hibernating, the deeper part of me went to sleep, saving up for later.

the last night, i was sleeping when a good friend of mine, AD walks into our room with my roommate. i’d disappeared that night (left to wander, then write). they’re happy to have found me. i have a conversation with him in the dark, and he wants to know about my “game,” why it’s so easy for me to attract men and know how to talk to them, so i’m explaining it to him–if you just don’t overextend and let the dance of chemistry/energy move you, you know when, what and how to get into anyone, because everything you need to know about someone, they’ll tell you or show you. you recognize whose door is open to you, and whose isn’t, so you never try beyond your means. you just have to recognize the opportunities if their door is open to you, and if so, how to approach in a way that is comfortable.

but AD, of all people, knows i’m catch and release. i don’t mess around with people. i would never consciously take advantage of a soul. he’s known me for 10 years, and i’ve been there for him whenever he’s needed a friend, a caring shoulder, healing wisdom, a woman’s perspective. he knows my heart. he knows i’m a good person.

so then, why did the conversation take such a bizarre turn? he suddenly asks if my vagina is magical. what makes these guys act the way they do around you?, he asks. are you basically saying your vagina’s magic?

what?, i say. whether or not it’s magical, i’ve never said that.

then he gets upset that i’m so “mysterious” and passionately laments that he’s known me for a decade and he still doesn’t know anything about me. he says i don’t let him get to know me.

i’m dumbfounded.

i say that i’m one of the most open people he’s ever met. i try to always answer every question. and i’ve always been truthful with him.

he said that i don’t answer any questions. that every time he tries to get close to me, i start talking about things he doesn’t understand, and…”what the fuck are you talking about, julia?”

i tell him everything i say is truthful. that maybe, because truth is so big, so dimensional, that sometimes i feel it’s hard to capture, but i always try to communicate it comprehensively. and if someone doesn’t understand, i always work hard trying to say things in different ways for them to understand. for example, imagine a glass of water sitting on a chair. you can describe it as “a glass of water sitting on a chair.” you can describe it from a molecular level. you can describe the shadows and light from a poetic metaphorical level. they’re all true. sometimes it’s just a matter of describing what
‘s true from different levels until you hit the level that the person you’re talking to understands. but i always, always try. i’m known for it.

maybe i don’t ask the right questions, but you go out of your way not to give answers.

i answer everything, AD. when have i not answered a question you had about me?

right now. you haven’t answered my question.

what’s your question?

have you ever considered the possibility that you could be wrong?

about what?

just wrong. that you don’t know what you’re talking about.

yes.

you have?

yes. of course. no one’s right all the time. we all just build our understandings based on theories, and evidence to support theories. you have to be willing to question and adjust your theories, in order to evolve. it’s by challenging yourself and your beliefs that you learn what’s real.

but that’s not what i asked.

what did you ask?

if you ever admit you’re wrong about something.

that’s not what you originally asked, but again, yes. i always do. especially if i’m faced with strong evidence. then i would readjust what i think and believe to fit the evidence.

what the hell does that mean? you still haven’t answered my question.

(now i’m kinda irritated, and getting more fiery, but i’m still calm)

AD, i answered your question 3 times unequivocally with “yes,” but started qualifying them because you weren’t accepting my basic answer. karen, didn’t i answer him directly 3 times?

karen, whose bed AD’s sitting on, says, yes.

but AD bulldozes on.

but you haven’t been straightforward. see, i just can’t believe in why you can say the things you say so confidently, when i don’t know where it comes from. you need to show me where it comes from.

(what, you want me to show you my magical vagina? what the fuck is he talking about?)

i’ve always been open with you, i say. and i’m more than happy explaining what i see and believe. but you have to be willing to listen. you have to meet me halfway and be willing to understand, and be willing to see things through my perspective without feeling the need to immediately judge it.

i’m not being judgmental. you’re being judgmental.

wha…what the fuck, AD? that doesn’t even make sense.

i’m just saying, i’m willing to admit when i’m ignorant. but you need to admit that you can’t communicate and you need to work harder if i can’t understand you. it’s like if a student isn’t learning, it’s the teacher’s fault.

yeah, but the student has to be open to learning from that teacher. he can’t get scared every time he hears something he doesn’t understand and get defensive.

whoa whoa whoa, who’s talking about being scared? i would say that’s a strong word and you’re trying to place a feeling into me when i’m trying to rationally build an argument here. i would say that i’m being very logical in pointing out the irrationality of what you’re saying, and you can’t handle it. because i’m not the one being emotional, you are. i’m being perfectly logical. and you’re the one being defensive.

(okay, i know i’m being heated, but i’ve been laying in bed the whole time with my hands under my head, and my pulse hasn’t gone up. my ex used to make me damn near nuts with his argumentative circles and mindfucks, and i didn’t like how angry that would make me. since then, i’ve been very careful about not getting fired up in these situations. he’s overheating my head, but i’m keeping my emotions under tight control).

i’m not being emotional, AD. i’m frustrated with this discussion, but my pulse hasn’t even gone up.

see, another one of your statements. how can you say that without having an ekg machine here? you don’t know that. your statement is unverifiable.

you’re telling me that i don’t know my own feelings or inner state? that i can’t own my own statements about myself? now you’re being straight up disrespectful, i say.

suddenly, i remember this other “friend” i have (a cappy mountain goat like AD), who drives me crazy in this exact way. we worked together in promoting in amsterdam, and even though he knew i was living with a boyfriend, he would always tell me how much he wanted to fuck me, and was always suggesting that we should have sex. he did it in a funny, desperate enough way that it was easy to brush off, easy to not take seriously, and outside of that, we had a good working relationship. so when i came back to the states, we kept in touch over facebook, but he would always say shit that would piss me off, along the lines of his wanting to have sex with me, but i would always sidestep it. so when i went to florida for a few months, he kept messaging me to come visit him in louisiana. i said, no. he asked me, why not. i said, because you’re going to try to have sex with me.

you should have seen this guy blow his top. how dare you assume that, he stewed. you’re so fucking arrogant. i think you’re a beautiful, amazing creature, but i’m insulted you would think i would try to sleep with you when i’ve invited you out here as a friend. i didn’t think you were so low-minded, but you’re just one of those girls who can’t be friends with guys because you assume they all want to sleep with you. and that’s ignorant.

wtf. i pointed out hard evidence of things he said in the past, and he stuck by his original argument…that i’m arrogant for “assuming” he wants to sleep with me.

it’s a very specific type of mindfuck. it always makes me stumble and i really hate people who try that on me.

so back to the room. AD has just told me i can’t verify that my pulse hasn’t increased without an ekg machine, so therefore, i can’t know my inner state and have to accept his evaluation that i’m being emotional.

i’ve had enough for the night.

get out of our room, AD. we’ve gotta sleep. get the fuck out of our room.

no, wait! give me 5 more minutes, he says. all i’m saying, julia, is that we’ve known each other for 10 years. i don’t know why i don’t know you, i don’t know why you keep yourself so mysterious, but i’m saying, we should be a lot closer. we have moments where we’re connected and i feel like i know you, but then sometimes you’re talking, and i don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. maybe i’m fucking ignorant, but you need to try harder.

he gets up and gives me a big, drunken hug, kissing me on top of my head.

but i love you anyway, julia.

leaves.

he does not acknowledge this conversation whatsoever the next day, though everyone else is talking about it.

i’ve been very quiet, since then. silent. don’t want to talk to anyone, don’t want to look anyone in the eye. outside of transactions (ie saying thank you to the cashier when i buy coffee), i’ve wanted to be left alone, to be completely still and silent. don’t want anyone near me or inside me.

is this what’s real? this life? how shallow and superficial it is? how a friend can turn around and disrespect your being because they don’t understand why you are the way you are?

it’s important to me to accept people for who they are. doesn’t mean i have to be really close to them, but it’s not for me to judge, or fit them into a cage. it means a lot to me to have the same respect for my being extended.

it’s one thing if people don’t get you. it’s another thing, when they try to tear down who you are because they don’t. i’ll let it go quickly. i always do. but i will say that the experience did hurt a deep part of me, did sadden me, especially coming off such a validating experience from the previous cruise.

reviewing old posts for references to “seattle” to find what clues i left myself from the past. found this post that i never made public for some reason, written the day before leap day last year, the day that i will always recognize as the first day of the rest of my life.

just put it up.

here it is.