March 6th 2011
email from me
Y’know. Utterly insane as this sounds…
I would, in an instant, be roommates with you. There is nobody else I trust, or with whom I’d feel comfortable sharing my space with any where near as much as I would with you.
Yes, even now.
Fresh air, comfortable chaos, art space, I feel like we have eerily similar notions when it comes to our ideas of how to arrange interiors.
Dammit. I found this niehborhood. There’s polish delis, a fabulously huge ghetto supermarket, stores galore, bakeries, a spanish diner, 24 hour taco trucks… and there’s even a pool hall blocks away. 25 minutes to Manhattan.
Apartments with high ceilings, huge kitchens, and 5 additional rooms go for under 1200.
Is that insane? That I feel like… even after everything, and how weird everything is… that we’d still make perfect roommates for each other? I mean, how much fun would we have setting up our common space!?
Dammit. I could pay as much as $500 a month, and between us, the apartment we could wrangle would be….
amazing.
dammit.
No drunken night arrivals. Clean kitchens. No hours of mindless television. Art space. You could smoke cigarettes in your room, and I could smoke weed in mine.
Eh. I’m apartment hunting and I just can’t help but think of how this terrible task would have been something of excitement if ….
well.
oh well.
March 8th 2011
email from Stefan
I have three weeks to be out. And my impressive lack of planning has really outshone my urge to get out of here.
So, I was lucky enough to find a one bedroom apt in Lodi with my required amenities ( 24 hr. Dunkin’, 7eleven, Pathmark and diners as usual), so I have to take it for a a little while. There’s no lease. I plan on just being there for a bit in comparison to my stay in Maywood. And with no lease, I could save money for a few months, and leave whenever I want. Maybe in the city, I’m not opposed to it.
Roommates have been a hard lesson. (As I learned even before Maywood) People lie, or just don’t know themselves enough to give you an accurate assessment of their character and attitudes. I did major mental inventory. I’ve never been hypocritical as far as the views and gripes I’ve expressed to my roommates. I was, and am…a good housemate. But, I don’t care if anyone agrees or doesn’t anymore. I could finally sit and paint, and set up a proper drawing table…while listening to radio lab and stuff, without interruption. That’s the important thing. My stress has manifested to headaches and such.
With the water bill, my final rent was $1,010.00 and a few hundred extra for basic house needs. I don’t mind paying that at all….but that’s absurd considering a four-way rent. But….it doesn’t matter anymore. That’s over in three weeks.
I now will pay a bit less, which is good being that I need a new laptop (it’s dimming itself quite often now), and maybe a new camera wouldn’t hurt for some photo ideas I have on the back shelf.
My brother has already expressed his regret of moving into brooklyn, even with close friends. I could hear it in his voice(and his blatant explanations). They wanted me to get in on that with them. I’m glad….I didn’t. I just visit. (it’s an easy drive) And as I thought, I’m in the city in half the time they are if we meet up in manhattan.
Having said that, I’m not opposed to moving into the city, (to any borough or neighborhood that suited me well). I know I’m a respectful, and honest roommate, and could carry a decent money share, but I’ve learned so many lessons I’d be a fool not to consider. So…I didn’t move to brooklyn with them so I could save some money and try to find a nice apt without depending on others. And it’s possible that I’m an asshole or annoying and everyone else was in the right, but I don’t tend to give much credence to that view when I sit and mull over the last few years. But again…I don’t care if people don’t like me anymore.
Though, I understand my “abnormal” circadian rhythm, and general living habits could conflict with “normal” people. I don’t have to explain them to you. You know how I live and function. You’ve seen it day to day. And probably know it better than anyone, so…I don’t need to write about that. Moving on.
I just want to sit and give real focused time to improve my painting and drawing. I NEED it to be much, much better than it is now. I need to it be worth attention. To work for me when I sleep. I need a reason to fade away from tattoos. No matter if it’s the trendy rockabilly hipsters, or the meathead angel/demon guys, the problems I have with them are the exact same. But whatever. I don’t even want to start on that topic.I’ve learned all I need to know about tattoo crowds.It’s all just a matter of wanting to make money on it or not.
I have that trash hanging in Hoboken, I was asked to display a painting in a NYC hotel art event. It will be packed, and I was told it’ll get much press. Again, timing is killing me…so I have only five weeks to paint this. I have no idea what to do yet…but I cant pass up that offer. I guess I’ll paint a big hyper gross face or something. Boring…I know. I have a few other offers out there and am wedging my way into the city art scene. I’m starting the process. That’s the important thing. If I fail…I just keep painting and drawing. I don’t get complacent. I care more about sitting quietly and working on the quality of what I draw more than being at art events.
I have a bit a nausea going right now. I’ve had consistent ill feelings from the stress of all this. It’s even hard to stare at my dim screen…so, I’m going to close it for a bit, and draw. I promised myself I’d post something mediocre tonight.
I’m sure this was all rambling nonsense and I was most likely redundant about some things. And I’m not explaining or prioritizing my concerns accurately, as I could tell by the haphazard way I know my fingers are moving. But..I’m not rereading this. My eyes are so fuckin’ sensitive right now. I stressed, and a bit miserable…but that’s what makes me who I am.
I’m….going to draw…and make a snack or something. I congratulate you if you got this far. I don’t even know for sure what I talked about or left out. Night.
email from me
Well…
It is because of how well I know the way you work, your rhythms, what is important to you, what you want out of your living space, that I really… honestly… think we’d work together as perfect roommates.
I mean, I’ve been thinking about this. Hard.
I even asked <Old Friend> if she thought I was insane for thinking that you and I would make ideal roommates. (she didn’t) But I really do think that we’d work well together as sharing living quarters. Generally, the NYC way of things is different than NJ. People in NYC are usually so spread apart, that people use bars and cafes and restaurants as places to socialize; not visiting each other’s apartments. Having someone over to your home is either because you are poor, you are being intimate, you are still up at 5am when the bars close and you feel like drinking together til dawn, or you are watching a movie together (which is practically intimate). It just doesn’t happen often.
And…
Gosh, if you saw the apartments I’m looking at… you’d see why it’s killing me that we aren’t looking to pull our resources together and getting a fabulous place.
fuck it. here. This is the apartment of some people I know who are kind enough to let me crash here occasionally, and being that the area is a “New Deal” area, all the apartments look pretty much exactly like this. These apartments go for around 1200 a month. And SO FUCKING PERFECT. I was considering hooking up with a group of other people and trying to get a large share in the Park Slope area, but I really have fallen for this neihborhood, and will try to stick it out and find something here.
I should have about $500 secure for rent a month. I feel much more in my element here. I think you’d thrive in the city. Seriously, there is so much less brain hurting ignorance here than there is in the driving chaos of rose tinted ignorant and uninformed. The daily interactions are… GOD, such a fucking wonderful shift.
But… as roommates? We both like clean kitchens, yet have bedrooms of explosion. The way these apartments are layed out, one bedroom is entered through the livingroom, the other bedroom is entered either through the first bedroom OR through it’s own enterance in the hallway. Complete privacy, with a buffer room between them to kill the sound.
Neither of us would ever have to deal with the frustrations of a drunk roommate returning home and ruining the night. Our things being detroyed by enibriated carelessness.
I want a nice fucking place to live.
I don’t trust people. I don’t want to get angry at people for being fucking filthy. I don’t want to be worried about my belongings not getting damaged.
Seriously, this apartment… the roommates never ever see each other, and NEVER hear each other. Unless they want to.
I think living with more than one person doesn’t work. Unless… the third or fourth are hardly ever home. With more than one active roommate, alliances are forged and issues start.
eh. And whatever the fuck we’ve got going between us……
Roommates. That’s something I can understand. Embrace. There were stretches of time where you were spending 4 days a week with me in my tiny apartment, and we never got testy with one another. I think … roommates would be awesome. We were always inside and just-the-two-of-us and grocery shopping with each other, so… it’d translate well.
It could be the best and most productive way for us to still be in each other’s lives, but honestly, that’s not even the driving force behind me thinking about this. If I compute in my head the people I could possibly live with and feel comfortable in my living space, you are IT. Regardless of the stress we’ve caused for each other, I still think that we’d cause less stress for each other in a living environment than anyone else would.
Christ, we even have the same decorative color palettes for christ’s sake. The same noise habits.
Whatever.
Until you ever decide to address those last few recordings I’d left for you (if you ever even do), we are still better suited to co-habitate than… anyone. We still fit better than anyone. We are good for each other’s brains. We keep each other from being eaten by the gloom of every day, and we know the small things around the house that can improve or worsen the FUCK YOU that life is constantly throwing at us.
“Here, roommate, I got you some 1/2&1/2 on my way home”
And as much as I don’t know where I stand, don’t know how much I should trust you, often don’t believe things that you say… I still trust you more than anyone else on earth. so….
Well.. whatever.
I know it’s not going to happen.
But i’m glad that I’ve figured out that I can wrangle my way into the world on my own. that I really don’t need you for my survival and i really can fend for myself.
I’m glad I know that.
And I’m glad that I know that even when I’m doing it all on my own, and finding a place to live, even then… I miss having you as part of my life.
Stupid and crazy.
But true.
Oh well.
A shame we couldn’t be roommies. It’d have been fabulous.
I’ll find a place for myself by the first, if not before.
email from Stefan
I never thought you couldn’t wrangle your way into the world or survive on your own without me. It’s well documented that you been through most conceivable city living situations. You have experience. I never thought you didn’t.
And, you’ve already met new people that you trust enough to crash by. I’d say, you’re doing fine at surviving, and you trust people much more than I do. I’m sure you’d be a good roommate and people would be happy to live with you. But remember, you told me you once thought it casual to walk around with roommates nude and high. That may not be at all who you are now, but it is something you thought was doable. That is a split in the road, when comparing what we consider to be privacy…or at least what we thought of it at one point. And maybe the people you move in with will be all about those sort of things, or things much more unusual or deplorable to you….and you’ll be like…”umm, whoa..you didn’t say anything about that”. It’s those sort of strange possibilities of what people think is no big deal or worth mentioning that I don’t want to gamble on with others. And I hope you don’t experience anything like that. As much as you compare NY to NJ and roommates of all types from all places, your stories you told me about NY(not implants) people in the city all ended in horror. It’s worth being careful. I’ll be looking for places in the city and start a search as soon as I move into the new place(as I planned). And I hope you are careful too, but you have a rolodex of experience to go on. So…I’m not doubting your judgment. But I doubt the judgment of others.
Here, I go out to meet friends, we meet at coffee shops, bars, the city…whatever. NJ is not constricting to my mobility or social activity at all. I usually don’t want to be in my house and don’t treat it as a meeting place for friends. So, it’s just like you described NY to being. Only with a car, I can still get in, out, and around at a swifter pace than those who live in the city. I’m in the city a lot now as it is. At least, that’s what I’ve been noticing. I mean, <The Brother> isn’t coming to visit me anymore. It’s just too annoying for him. But I’m by him in no time. Then back home in no time.
You’re right on the art scene obviously. There is a art scene in NJ, but it’s a joke compared to the city. This, is what will probably make me consider moving a month or two in to this new place. As I’ll be in the city most days now as it is.
I mean, you know…no matter how “spaced apart” things seem….with people you just met or known forever, the second you become roommates, you learn new things. And if someone is loud and drunk, everyone deals with it. If there are fights, everyone deals with it. And other inconceivable nonsense. And it is almost guaranteed, as you’ve been through similar scenarios with previous living people. I know you have just as much experience as others. I mean, I can’t forget a story that deals with you being dragged naked out of a bed, and ends with you defecating in someones property. That’s the kind of madness that (whether you instigated, or had nothing to do with) one can end up in. And I recall many other crazy stories as well. I wanted to (and would have) knocked that guys teeth out for hitting you.I can go on…but I should get back to this drawing. All I’m saying is…don’t be so quick to think people from the city are better cultured when it comes to being respectful or acclimating to others. I think everyone fuckin’ insane and disrespectful. And you know damn well that at any moment, people can bust open a door and literally drag you into there problems…no matter how much you’re minding your business. I really don’t trust anyone or thing, at face value. It’s just not in my programming, and it’ll be a cold day in hell, before I get myself in a house with a bunch of egomaniacs again.
I’m not opposed to the city. I don’t mind the idea. I may move there soon. I’ve sold off some of my shit. I travel lighter now. I already told the home owners that I may leave in a short period of time.
But you’ve made multiple mention of the new people in your life and it seems it’s something to be proud of. So, that’s a good thing. And if you’re comfortable crashing by them, they must have gained your trust. So, that’s also a good thing.
I seen no indication that you couldn’t survive without me. Ever. I thought you’re growing crippling medical plight was the scourge of your livelihood. I was just making it my personal business to make sure you didn’t feel alone and hopeless during those times. I sacrificed whatever I could, worked as hard as I could, and drove as much as I could in order to keep that promise to myself. I would never think someone needs me to survive. And I would think quite the opposite for someone like you, who has tale after tale of adapting to different living situations. You’re life experience may dwarf mine, but comparison is useless. My particular life experience has caused me to trust people even less than you do, and to be ready to fight when you have to….even when out numbered or in a corner.
Anyway, I stopped drawing to respond. I’ll get back to that. My phone email alert chimed so I checked it again.
My thoughts mirror yours. I have learned to be wary about certain truths you claim. But, I trust you enough to the point that it surprises me. We did spend time together with ease. That was never an issue.
P.S. I assume by how you’ve spoken about your new active life and the people in it, that there is no more crippling pain. This is by far, the best thing I could hope to hear. It would have been nice….if that subsided when we were spending our time together, and the timing almost angers me…but…I’m just glad it’s gone. I tried to make you forget about your pain, and now that it’s gone…I know, as you said….you’re glad you don’t need me. I’m just glad, you don’t hurt anymore.
I never thought I was your lifeline. I didn’t just do things for you to feel like your survival was dependent on me. That would be despicable. I just simply wanted to do those things. That’s all there is to it. I guess eating rare meat, watching Hitchcock, and drawing is not to crazy a night to assume you’d find in others. You may have already, and if not…it’s probably not far away.
Oh, one thing I forgot to say is that I’m really only staying here so I could bleed the jersey clients dry, and when the work dies, (which it sort of is….because I’m promoting much less)…then I move on.
Anyway, I’m gonna stop writing now. I just took some advil and I’m angry about some other stuff so I can’t put my thoughts down so well tonight, and if I keep writing…I may misdirect my anger. So let me shut the fuck up now and get back to what I’m suppose to be doing.
March 10th 2011
email from me
It’s not a matter of me finding people I trust. It’s a matter of desperation and need. I can’t even count how often I’d pleaded with you to include me in something social. Anything. ANywhere. I cried, begging for that. Even just to let me crash with you just a fraction of the time we spent together. My total isolation was wearing me down, my solitary situation worsening once in New Providence. My sanity has been…. really shattered and really fragile. I pleaded with you. I pleaded with my Aunt. I needed a way out. There is no doubt that staying there was going to end in my suicide. That isn’t an exaggeration.
You visited me and left me there. Again and again. Every day I would randomly break into sobs.
Living in filth, out of a duffel bag, and with people I’ve only known briefly and yet have invited me to share what little they have, have already started helping me find ways to support myself, helping me find clients, and has done more for my mental well being and somewhat soothed my panicked frantic desperation than…. than anything. Do I trust them? No. But I like them enough. I’m grateful to them. They could see how important it was that I get out of there.
Some people actually thought to give me a hand to get the fuck out of a situation that has been blatantly wrecking me.
I don’t have the choice to go it alone as completely as you can. It’d be naive for me to even pretend that I could.
Why would you think that because I’m being social that I’m doing so much better regarding my health? Sure, I got the Lyme Disease which really wrecked me for a while, but we’ve hardly been in contact since that started last autumn. How does my health have any effect on our timing? I was pleading with you to go to events with me, to bring me out to places, all while my health was just about as crappy as it is now.
You lament over timing? That you think I’m suddenly healthy and active without you? But your staying with me in Ocean Grove a third of your time, and my suddenly not welcome in your home EVER once I needed a place to escape to in return…. and decided to stay and resign the lease knowing that I wasn’t welcome, TWICE… and now you finally are getting your own place, now that we aren’t even speaking? THAT isn’t a timing kick in the face?
Please. Don’t talk to me about unfortunate timing. I thank you for your well wishes, and I’m sure it’s meant with sincerity, but that just doesn’t make sense.
Regarding location… It’s not about how long it takes you versus <The Brother> to get to a particular location in Manhattan (even though I can get to Union Square in 25 minutes). There is a difference in the daily life and attitude and culture. You can tell me again and again how things are not different in the ways that I claim, but I’ve lived for decades in both environments. You are far more of a loner than most, and there was a lot more company at your Maywood home than of most NYC apartments I’ve lived in or visited on a regular basis.
And please, I’d rather not hear about the ease with which you can zoom yourself in and out of Brooklyn with total efficiency.
I do have some amazingly shitty roommate stories. But happiness writes in white. I don’t mention the happy fun roommates. The nice landlords. I’ve got some amazing stories of shitty roommates. But that’s just because sometimes, people suck. Also, roommate stories when living with other equally drunken drug-using wierdo party-people while in my early 20’s is NOT the same as when I am a mostly sober, hurty person trying to get medical attention and hobble a creative career together.
You WERE my lifeline. You were all I had. You were right there, talking to me, keeping me in conversation and distracting me from the pain…. which I’m sure you did out of concern and an attempt to preserve my well being in some way… but you were letting me drown right beside you.
I thought we were partners. I thought we were, metaphorically, inseperable. We shared limbs and organs. I’d let certain abilitites and funcitons wither and fade, because I thought you handled them. And I, in turn, thought I took over for certain things so you’d never need to. I did need you. But we seperated, and what was slowly drowning turned into sinking like a stone. I had to grow gills. I grew them fast. I did need you. I really did. I don’t anymore. But I might someday need someone again.
I didn’t want to get into the stuff about us, our past, timing. I wasn’t talking about that. I was just thinking about facts. I can separate the you that I know factually from the one I know emotionally, and looking objectively, know that you and I would be able to share a living space better than anyone else.
We could be roommates. We would fit. I’d move in with you tomorrow, and be confident that things would work out well. Excellent, even.
But for anything beyond compatible and platonic drama-free buddies of space, I am nothing to you. I cannot be, until the issues are directly and concretely dealt with. You haven’t bothered to give consideration to my vid-response to your last heinous email of accusation. That is important to me. Crucial.
I shouldn’t have taken time away to write this much. It may be not very coherant in bits, since my head is pounding. Back to work.
email from Stefan
I drive into brooklyn very easily. And out very easily. I visit my brother…very easily. Sorry if that’s annoying to hear. But you have the gal to rewrite the timing and resigning the lease story. Sorry….I don’t live out of a duffel bag and seek help and you couldn’t possibly made it any clearer that you never listened to the reality of what that was about. Because, you don’t like to consider that I have issues that I needed to deal with.
I let you drown? Okay. You pleaded with me, and Aunt Mary? I forget, me and your Aunt are of the same status. Christ.
You said….“Living in filth, out of a duffel bag, and with people I’ve only known briefly and yet have invited me to share what little they have, have already started helping me find ways to support myself, helping me find clients, and has done more for my mental well being and somewhat soothed my panicked frantic desperation than…. than anything.”
Okay. Fine. You have your new super friends. And in a short paragraph you shit on everything I’ve ever done and act like they’ve already done more. You mention things about my house situation, and ignore the constant hard work and sacrifice…..proving, that you just pick and choose what makes sense.
Just leave me alone. To make so many underhanded references that the new friends are better than me in so many ways, on so many levels, and be so clear about how you still repeat the same shot I’ve tried to explain.
And you don’t want to hear about timing? And you thank me for my nonsensical well wishes? Are you kidding? I fuckin’ broke my back…..driving…..working……driving. Just to help be there for you. When you insulted me with a mountain of denigration, (as you still are), you called me and I got you antibiotics, and drove them to you. Then you had the nerve to get mad at me for coming in. You have me speechless and angry right now. The timing is weird of your medical shit. And don’t you dare say a word about that. I believed you. When everyone was telling me you were faking. Straight up….lying. I defended you. I still do. I did so fuckin’ much. And you write this stuff to me.
You…..I just…..sigh. Painful.
“Some people actually thought to give me a hand to get the fuck out of a situation that has been blatantly wrecking me.”
Again….as if I’m nothing. And never was. I don’t need this. Why would you want to live with me at all. You love to tell me how little I’ve done.
Just stop. You don’t know what I go through. Congrats on all your new help and friends. Tell them I wish I could be appreciated like them. Your whole response is cold. All I was doing was trying to explain what you meant. Don’t belittle me or tell me what is hard for you to here.
Fine…..I’m shit. And I’m sure that is what you’re telling them. That I never did a fuckin’ thing for you.
You shouldn’t have taken that much time to write this? Yes, and I shouldn’t have drove to bring you antibiotics after you insulted me over and over. And shouldn’t have done all the things I’ve done. Because it all means nothing. I guess I’m the new <Abusive Man> in the stories you’re telling the new group. I’m sure you even throw in some slapping around.
You really make it clear, that no matter how much I did for you, I’m destined to be portrayed as just another chump making my life more complicated to help you more times than can be counted.
I bought you groceries when I barely had a dime, and drove them to you when I barely had gas. And no one, was helping me get by.
How could you write this stuff.
“You WERE my lifeline. You were all I had. You were right there, talking to me, keeping me in conversation and distracting me from the pain…. which I’m sure you did out of concern and an attempt to preserve my well being in some way… but you were letting me drown right beside you. ”
I can’t believe you could write that. Maybe I’m overtired and a tad sensitive, but that’s really frigid and dismissive to say about things that were really taxing on me, but that I did for the sole purpose of trying to do whatever I could.
These people must be something. You obviously hit the jackpot. If you found a group of people who all do more than I ever did, you’re going to be just fine. I get it…..you made your point. You don’t need to write to me anymore.
Anyway, I’m going back to my little cartoons in my insular world…..where no one offers me shit. They’re probably all better cultured and more skills artists than me as well. I’d expect no less. You hit the jackpot. Enjoy it. But….you don’t need to write to me about how helpful they are, nor how me draining my blood for you was drawing you. Just go….enjoy…..stop bothering me and insulting me for no reason. Christ. People wonder why I’m so cynical.
March 11th 2011
email from me
I’m getting tired of being called spineless for dealing with a agreement that was made partly because I put your needs, before mine. What’s wrong with you? If you compare them to me one more time…it will only shine a spotlight on the fact that you DENY, the things I’ve done.
NO. I never called you spineless. I called out your priorities as evidenced by your actions. You gave me reasons that I couldn’t come to your house, and they were reasons nobody else had to comply to. If I am getting something wrong about the situation, it’s because you haven’t been upfront with me. I never EVER denied anything you did.
Start making a list of everyone we mutually know….there’s your list of everyone. Or, just remember the billion times you told me that I, and Rosanne were the only people that believed you in the whole world. You’re really just playing the denial game on all fronts. Whatever. Fine. You’re right and I’m wrong. There’s obviously no way around it.
We don’t HAVE anyone we mutually know. We have no common friends. You kept your life apart from mine. We never interacted with others when we were together, much as I tried. I know <The Brother>. I met <Friend> three times. I’ve met <Chick Friend> a handful of times in the past decade. I’m friends with <Mutual Friend>. That’s it. You are telling me that these four people were telling YOU about ME? Sorry, I just don’t buy it. <Mutual Friend> is more understanding these days, and doesn’t discuss me with you. <Chick Friend> and <The Brother> don’t know enough about me to comment. Unless you are telling others about me and then talking about me with them, which would be amazingly hypocritical.
You are only saying that trying to hurt me.
You’re gonna tell me what I should have done? That I did good…..just not…good enough. Wow….the definition of ego.
Actually, no. It’s not the definition of ego, and it’s not what I implied at all. You worked harder than you had to and treated me like something to look after, instead of thinking of me as an equal who could fend for herself if given the right opportunities and environments. You grow angry if anyone tries to take care of you in the way you strive to look after others. That is unbalanced. It puts excessive pressure on you, and ends up condescending to those around you. I don’t think you mean it like that, but thus is the end result.
Everyone in your family is evil, <Old Friend> and <Mutual Friend> think you’re a liar. You’re ex <Abusive Ex-Girlfriend> was a psycho bitch, your ex <Abusive Man> was an abusive asshole. And the list goes on. These are all the things you’ve told me. You are a victim…..over, and over.
You paint the majority of your extended family as being ignorant, why can’t my immediate family be close minded and/or selfish amoral egomaniacs? A victim? Yes. Yes I have been. If you read on the subject, you’d know that people who are victimized in thier childhoods, especially in a sexual way, especially with Narcissistic parents, end up in abusive dynamics quite easily. Not because they WANT to, not because they seek it out, but because they lack the psychological alert system that most people still have innately in tact. I lack the warning, and certain aspects of the interaction feel familiar and comfortable, and I’m an easy mark for abusive people. That’s what happens. It’s something I have to constantly stay aware of. It’s something I falter on.
I refuse to take shit on this issue. Again, you are just trying to hurt me.
And now that you’ve expressed more hatred to me than to all of them combined……why would I not think I’d be the ultimate story of satanic victimizing.
Oh, please. Either you know you are being ridiculously over-exaggerating, or your paranoia is worryingly worse. Regardless, that’s a juvenile and silly claim. And completely untrue.
I’m sure you are earning your couch. I’m sure you’re doing great and have unlocked your potential, that apparently I never once encouraged. I never pushed you to draw, or to construct more in photography, or worked for relentless hours second by second, stitched picture by picture to show you what can be accomplished on video, and how we can do what anyone else can. Like you said, I just ran around like a mindless idiot giving rations…when I should have been making you a rope. At least you’ve taught me so wisely, that I wasted my time.
Stefan, when did we last make a project together? Since before I moved to NP, we hardly did anything artistic together. For two years in a row, you swore to me that we’d get to make MOTP III in time for Halloween. Yes, you encouranged me to draw. My drawing meant that I’d get to sit next to you for hours each night. You didn’t encourage me to find a way to make a living. You never tried to help me find a way to get out of the living situation that was sapping my will to live, that was strangling me with confinement. I’m not saying you should have offered me keys to a place to live. But I spent a lot of my efforts towards your artistic fame and ability to sell your work. I wanted your life to be fabulous in ways that I wasn’t part of. I wanted your life to be fabulous even if that kept you from me. I tried to find you clients and contacts.
Did you ever do the same for me? No.
I have never ever ever said that you didn’t do a great deal for me. I maintain that you’ve dome MORE for me than anyone else has or ever would. (which is what I say to those people you’ve convinced yourself that I’m badmouthing you to, by the way). But while you did do MORE for me, you never at any point tried to get me more independent. You showered me with riches, but I was always still stuck in my prison that was sapping me dry, and you ignored me when I pleaded for an escape, temporary or otherwise. You kept me out of your world.
I was sobbing. I was crumbling. You witnessed this. I was very upfront about how my isolation in NP was seriously undermining my sanity. In Ocean Grove I opened my doors to you at any hour, any time, regardless of what my family said. You left me in New Providence. Before I moved, you told me it was because you had roommates, while I didn’t. Then it became because of my bathroom use. Of my using the upstairs. You told me how on the verge of moving out you were for lesser issues with roommates, but my ostracization of your home was always something you defended as <Prime Roommate>’s right as your roommate. You defended his annoyance with me in your house. You explained his spoiled bully actions as being reasonable and justifiable. You grew irritated when i questioned the fairness of him being able to dictate who you had over, and you said he had the right to do so.
Now you claim that you had no choice.
Were you not honest with me about your home situation THEN, or are you not being honest with me NOW?
There is so much you don’t understand. There are still things I’ve never told you that I’m still paying for in one way or another, because I put your needs before me. I’m a chump, I’m evil. Just please…..leave me be to paint. That’s all I feel like doing right now. I don’t even think I have potential, or greatness like you. I just want to draw and paint funny faces…but happen to take it seriously. And luckily, others are starting to take it that way as well. The tattooing can finally begin to fade.
Then don’t do it. I don’t want it. Don’t hold shit over my head that you are still paying for. That’s bullshit.
I’ve supported your art carreer more than anyone else. I challenge you to find evidence to the contrary. You DO have potential for greatness. I’d not have devoted so much time and effort towards your success if you didn’t. I’d not have tried so relentlessly to convince you of your potential if you didn’t have it. It’d be a waste of both of our times.
If I wanted to negate everything you said in one sentence, I’d just say,…… so according to you…..you didn’t kill yourself because you thought it would hurt me. That means, that for that reason….you stayed alive. And now, you’re meeting new people and unlocking potential and feeling good. So…it’s because of my efforts, pathetic as they apparently were, and your pity survival you surreptitiously offered me….that you’re still here.
Christ, you make up your own dilagoue. No, I’m not “unlocking potential”. I never wrote that. You’ve made that up. I’m trying to catch up to all the time I’ve lost. No, I’m not “feeling good”, I’m feeling LESS like shit than I did for the past year.
If you want to pat yourself on the back for my not committing suicide because I knew you’d feel responsible, go right ahead.
And now you’re feeling good and building new attachments. Not only does that change EVERYTHING you said, but it also gives the right to say……and you don’t see the timing dilemma?
No. There is no timing dilemma. My headaches still suck, my joints still hurt, I still spend most of my days in pajamas, I still get nauseated from my meds. Timing? We’ve hardly been part of each other’s lives for a year and a half, and I’m just now getting out of my Aunt’s. How is this suspicious timing? My Lyme Disease is finally waning a bit, which has wrecked my last year. It’s not hot out yet. I’m able to be as active as I was when you visited me in OG. When the summer comes, I’ll hurt and be a wreck. There’s no difference. All that happened is that someone offered me an opportunity to get the fuck out of a terrible situation.
I don’t trust these people. I don’t know these people. I don’t respect them. It is a symbiotic relationship. We are both getting something out of it, and we are honest about it. But through this, I have more of a chance at not relying on family, or anyone else, more than I have the entire time I’ve known you.
That’s a fact.
My abilities are the same. That hasn’t changed.
I’ve promoted your work, tried to find you success. You haven’t done the same for me.
You don’t like me….and I’m sick of hearing it. Please stop bothering me. You have good things, and better people than I’ve ever been or could be. Go to them, and let me make my little doodles alone. Goodnight.
Christ.
Stop it. Why can’t you comprehend that I can still hold you more important and devoted than anyone, while able to question some of your actions? Why can’t I take issue with some of your actions without you thinking that I’m automatically trashing EVERYTHING EVER? Why can’t I question the fact that people I hardly know are willing to give me an opportunity that you weren’t? No, they didn’t do everything you did for me, nor WOULD they, but I can still point out the wierdness of those things that these new aquaintences ARE so willing to offer that you have not.
This is NOT a binary equation.
Christ.
I miss you, and I wish things were alright with us. I really did think that maybe us being roommates would be perfect. It’s difficult to find people with the same daily sensibilities as we. Maybe you don’t understand.
I don’t beleive in most instances of marriage because I don’t beleive in divorce. I don’t give up. Well… in my head, I’d devoted myself to us. Not as a married couple or anything, but as a lifelong bond of meaningful closeness. I believed with certainty that you were going to always be in my life, and an important part of it. I bonded myself with you in ways that I can’t take back. I will never be able to untangle all the parts of you from me. I’d thought of how perfect it would be if you had an apartment in the city, and I a small house in Sussex County, and we could visit each other, and you could have your drum kit living in the woods with me where you could be loud. I don’t imagine we’d be romantic partners. I don’t want that with you. Wanting what isn’t mutual with someone who doesn’t respect me sexually has proved to be terribly painful.
But can I forgive everything for us to be something new?
Part of each other’s lives? Yeah.
There are things I’d need to understand to be emotionally-very-close, to be sexual, to be romantic, to be bestest friends with you. Like I said, I’d like to go to therapy with you so I can understand what has gone on between us, and if we could ever be any of those things again. I’m concerned about your skewed and paranoid take on things that really does taint almost everything in your life. I’d need to address the very serious and offensive things mentioned in one of your last emails (which I explained in my last videos, and which had never been addressed). But until something like that happens, if it ever does… I thought being roommates would perhaps be a fine answer. A good compromise. I way we could remember the fun about each other. A way to be part of each other, even if it’s light and inconsequential ways.
I firmly beleive that we make ideal partners. If there are issues that keep us from romance or sex or best friends, then why not be just roommates? It’s still a way to take advantage of how well we know and understand each other, and constantly look out for the other as best we can. It’s still a way to be near someone we trust and we know won’t fucking steal or pull some spoiled child crap or act like a filthy teenager. Even if we have to stay away from each other in the more emotional ways.
We have proven that whatever issues we have with each other personally and emotionally, we still support each other when it comes to finances, art, health, and life. We know that we are both respectful of each other’s space and privacy more than anyone else.
I’m on my own at the moment. I don’t have anybody. I know I don’t have you. But I thought we’d still compliment each other well, even if distant.
I’m not trying to convince you.
I know this is pointless.
I’m just trying to explain why I even bothered.
What it all comes down to is, after everything, if we could get our shit sorted out between us, I really do believe that we make each other’s lives better in a way that nobody else can. I don’t give you shit for not being in a good mood, and I just try to make things better. You do the same. You aren’t fooled by my default demeanor as being indicative of the whole psychological package of me, and neither am I by yours.
We don’t always do the right things, but we GET each other more than anyone.
We can learn what are the better actions to take. That’s something we can learn with time. But you can’t GET someone no matter how long you try. You either do, or you don’t.
March 13th 2011
email from me
I’m alone for the evening, cleaning the filthiness of my roommate. I am in the apartment that I will be trying to find a clone of in this niehborhood for about $1000 a month, which seems to be rather easy since all the buildings are the same around here. If you want to come by and see it, see what I mean, see the apartments and neihborhood, if you want to not fight with me, if you want to consider my offer, you are welcome to stop by this evening.
Stefan goes on about some opportunity he was trying to get for me, but it changes between him doing it himself and giving me the money, or getting the gig for me to do myself, or my making a website. It’s not true.
March 14th 2011
email from Stefan
I’m traveling for work tonight, but before I leave….I’m going to attempt to respond.
Yeah, I know what words mean, and I do research topics….I’m not a moron and don’t need your snide comments. When I said…”that’s the definition of ego”. I meant a certain type of ego. But I think you know that. If you’re that literal, stop writing analogies as much as you do, you’re just going to confuse both of us.
Now look, I didn’t want to get into this, because….well…it’s annoying. But, I’ve been letting you lie and accuse me something for a few emails now, and I guess….just to stop you, and again, explain something you fill in blanks and talk about too much, that you don’t understand….listen….
I’ve sent people to your photography more times than I could count.
Whenever someone says they like my website, I say….”It’s not my design, my friend Rachael put it together and her link is at the bottom of the homepage.
I went through my emails a bit, and found six mentions of your name when people asked me about web designers.
But mostly, a few months ago, when we were barely writing and when we would it was bad… <Roommate’s Girlfriend> had told me her Tyco Animal Control place was in need of a better web site and logo, she said she’d get me paid well if she could convince her boss to let me do it. The first thought in my head was…”if there’s money in this, I’m handing it to Rachael”. So….just to show more initiative, I stopped my work for the evening, and made a logo to send to the company to get their attention. They liked it, they were going to let me do the whole thing. But, by unfortunate chance, the job was given to someone inside the place. Someone’s brother or something. I did the logo no charge, (they didn’t use that either) and was just trying to get you the job.
I wasn’t gonna tell you about it until the money was in my account and I could transfer it to yours. I was angry at you, and I was gonna hand you the money and job anyway so you could GET OUT of aunt Mary’s. And for the same reasons I tried to help you in general…..so that you can gain control of yourself. Have a chance of feeling better. Get independence. But I don’t say it’s for reasons like that, I say it for my reasons. That I just wanted to help you. You can define people’s actions however you like. And that’s why I didn’t tell you about all this, and stop when you first said….”you helped me, but never helped me gain independence……” It’s just bullshit. Everything I’ve ever done for you was to help you. In every way. In any way. I tried to help you get money and work a gillion times. But if all you’re gonna do is beat that lie into the ground…..I’m gonna tell you…..you’re wrong. Because you are. And I have a few more examples if you want them. Although, I was hoping that in your lambaste against me….you’d eventually think of the obvious truths, but you are so bogged down in your criticisms of me, you can’t see for what you really are.
If you are going to just keep saying that I never tried to help you do anything other than stand up straight, don’t bother responding. You don’t know me, or appreciate me. Believe what you want. just leave me out of it.
I was hoping the Tyco Job (which was said to pay three grand that I was going to HAND OVER to you) would offer you a “way out”. I swear to you….that’s what I wanted. I even said to <Roommate>, “I could use the dough, but I know she needs to get out of her Aunt’s and she could make sites, I can’t”. Or something nearly that. And in the event that you’d just write back with you’re dismissive rhetoric, I didn’t want to write any of this. And I’m pissed I’m even doing it. I should be out the door already.
I pined over that fuckin’ job for animal control…it just didn’t pan out. I’m sorry. I wanted it for you…bad. That’s what I mean by…just wasn’t good enough. Apparently others were more successful in helping you. Okay. I tried, it just wasn’t good enough. And….I don’t want to hear a word about how I didn’t try and help you anymore. I won’t even read about it. You made me write more shit I didn’t want to get into over emails.
I do research…on plenty of topics…and don’t talk out of my ass…..every time you sent me links or told me about something you were suffering through…I researched it…..pined over it……just trying to hope there was something you missed that would teach me a way to help you. I was thinking of ways to come up with a lot of cash to help pay for your surgery……to help you move on in life to gain “independence”……that was my goal. It is gut-wrenching for you to say that’s not true. This shit is infuriating to explain.
This is what I mean by you just don’t understand some obvious things. And I never said I deserve a pat on a the back for anything of the sort….you really didn’t understand what i was saying there. You grossly misinterpret things I say to a point where I just am an entirely different human being in your eyes.
Again….the reason I don’t bring up a lot of the nice things I’ve done or tried to do for you, is precisely so I don’t get the…”if you think you deserve a pat on the back”…type response. I don’t want credit…but I don’t want to be discredited either. I don’t want to write about the things I’ve done for you….then after you telling me I haven’t done anything over and over, I eventually snap and write why you’re wrong. Now, again…..I’m sure you’ll write that I think I deserve a pat on the back and all that bullshit. I don’t deserve shit. I just don’t want to read about how I didn’t try and help you. I could go on for days, telling you about all the things I tried to do for you without you even knowing, but you have become so deluded that whatever I don’t tell you, is defined as a lie, and whenever I say, here’s what I did…you say I think I deserve accolades. Insanity. You wonder why I say I just want to be left alone rather than spin in this cycle with you.
Everything I’ve ever done was done simply because I wanted to help you…..help you in all ways…not particular ways…..just….to help. Sorry if you don’t believe me. You can dissect and define all the nuances to make it out to be the wrong or useless kind of help if you want. Please…get it through your stubborn head that I cared about you and wanted to help you better yourself mentally and physically…because I know what it’s like to suffer daily too…..just leave me alone. Because…I’ve had enough of you not understanding me. And lying about me. This is what I meant by you don’t really understand everything. Stop all of this. It’s really unnerving.
And like I said, I tried to help you, other people just helped you better and more effectively. I lost. They won. They’re better. But it doesn’t matter….I’m clearly painted as a joke. I’m a joke. Let’s just agree and move on. I’m fine with that. As long as I don’t have to hear about it. This has gone to a point where after a while of thinking about it….I just go into a blank stare and realize it all doesn’t matter. Because you have a way to turn everything into a hostage situation. I’m the big mean bear trap that your new friends finally pried you out of. It’s a beautiful story.
Now…I’m going to work with a formidable headache.
I was in prospect park/kensigton area on Sunday. My phone died by Justin’s….not that I know if that was near the area you’re in.
email from me
Thank you.
For everything.
