...really. I know it. I don't like being told I am, and I don't like being reminded of it, and I'm not going to discuss it or comment on it, even with the likes of you... but I know I am. I know all the little crazy fucking things I do and am, all the ways I fuck myself up, all the psychoses I harbor. The myriad of insecurities. The self-absorption.Don't get it twisted, though.... I know the good parts about me too. And there's plenty. I don't have narcissistic tendencies for nothin'... but on the other hand I have found (through my own observations of myself) that narcissistic tendencies are put in place to cover a host of unsaid insecurities.
One of mine is that I'm a fuck-up.
I didn't used to be a fuck-up though. I worked my up by the skin of my teeth to decent paying jobs... shopped in nice stores, my apartment was spotless, I worked hard and always got there reasonably on time. Can't say I was all that happy... I drank a lot, spent a shit-load of money on dumb shit.
But. Whatever. I am here, I am me, I am where I put myself. It's not a horrible place to be... and above everything else I lucked out with my Sun.
I hope I get it right this time, though. After months of complaining I actually have a few freelance gigs lined up... and now I'm scared I'll fuck them all up. Somebody handed me a wad of cash the other day and I actually locked it away from myself, in case I fuck up the job and have to give it back.
My apartment is at a low... I'd gotten it fairly decent but it blew up again.
And this thing with the Cricket is beginning to get hard. Secretly, I mark time... we've made it past this milestone... we're still friends after this long a time... about the only person he hasn't outlasted in recent history is Nene. It's moving at a SNAILS PACE which on the one hand makes me insane. But on the other hand it's really safe, and stretches out the time I have left with him.
When I was a kid... when we lived in Jamaica and had no money, I used to hoard snacks. Little tiny bits of food in little tiny capsules. Seriously little. Like in something that would hold 10 raisins and 10 peanuts. And about every half-hour or so I'd eat one peanut and one raisin or something like that. I could make a little capsule of food last a good while. Knowing the snack was there would make me crazy but I could withhold it from myself and force myself to stretch it out... and when I'd eaten the last of it I'd be sad cuz it was gone...but proud I had stretched it out as long as I had.
The Cricket is like that for me. So even though the spaces in between make me nuts, I feel like I'm not using it all up right away. Cuz I know one day it'll be done. I don't see how it can NOT be done. I'm being honest here. There's 10 years and a whole borough and completely different sets of friends and a totally different lifestyle between us. All there is in common well... actually there's some deep weird shit in common, now that I think about it. But it's the kind of stuff people shouldn't have in common.
There's been a big space between the time I was hijacked and now, and it's making me nuts. Torture. But... it stretches out the time just a little bit longer. What I truly hope for is that our project gets going before everything else falls apart cuz then at least we'll have that. I'm confident we can maintain it, too. One thing my relationship with Nene taught me is that men and women CAN be friends, once you get the sex out of the way. You can never be friends before then, though. My Nene even still calls to say hi, to ask dumb shit, to make sure I'm coming back. I never have to chase him or wait for too long. That's a good friend. I would be sad that it's over and that was all there is, except I like his friendship a lot better than the snatch-and-grab we had going before. So I'm alright with it. It's just I think it's ironic we're actually friends.
Worst case scenario, I hope it will end like that for the Cricket and me.