Connie Francis is wonderful.
To anyone who I was talking to online last night around 11, I signed off suddenly because I was at the Goon's house and his computer has a habit of going completely ballistic and crashing, so I couldn't even get back on to apologise. Sorry!
I'm supposed to cross the bridge today and proposition some cornbread people about what they can do for me to help me become an actress. My mom's orders. Hopefully, she's forgotten. I've thought about acting, but it would be really unfulfilling.
I think the point she's trying to make is that I need to do something. I've become comfortable just treading water and she's trying to push my head under to make me realise I need to reach shore; storms are coming.
From a fortune cookie on Wednesday: "Get away from home awhile to restore your energies"
Coincidence? I think not.
Rarely do fortune cookies tell you things of that sort. Normally they tell you that you're the sort of person who likes good company or some such.
Also, I heard something that got me to thinking. It went, "If it is written in the stars, it can be read, for this is prophecy." That's completely right. It's either there, or it's not, everything happens for a reason, even if it looks like an accident. All of this waiting and uncertainty is telling me that I've got to take my own steps forward, regardless of how scary.
The "worst" thing that could happen to me is that I'd die. I'm just afraid to start the ball rolling because I've been bound for so long to thinking it's right to focus on only one thing at a time, and this is why I have lost my abilities. I used to be amazing, and if I work, I can have my dynamism back.
I never used to sleep or eat, and I was an honour roll student. I would work for hours, not on things I cared about, but on things I needed to get done. People would gawk at how lazy my amble looked and wonder how I did all the things I did. You have to take what's given to you at birth and make the most of it.
For a long time... the past 4 years or so... I had a sick idea in my head. A girl who I met as a freshman implanted the idea in my head, actually. She was able to get along by having a part-time job (which was actually a cover, so her parents wouldn't bother her about where she got her money) and making money from men.
I thought she was a genius. Professional girlfriend. I thought that's all I'd ever be good for; I was a good actress. I could pretend to be completely smitten with anyone, accompany them to parties [the older the better; that way they could really be excited about having something so young on their arm] and get paid for it. She had a man that would take her to all of his business functions, and paid her about $200 a pop. Not sure whether they were fucking, but so what if they were? If you've got a regular, he's clean, and it's discreet... why not? Money is power, and sex is power, and so exchanging one for one is actually an even trade.
Then I wised up and realised that no one wants me on their arm, and no one wants to have sex with me. I don't have the elegance necessary. My body leaves something to be desired. I had to nix that job.
I know I'm still a good actress. However, I'm not sure if I want that to be my pursuit. It takes years, determination, tons of luck. Years, I have. The other two: rarely. I just want to do as I've done for the last 18 years and just stumble upon things. Maybe this is fate's way of telling me I pushed my luck and they're getting fed up.
When you're conditioned to be a certain way, it's hard to change. You can become conditioned in as little as two weeks. Considering everything that's happened, and the amounts of time it took... my conditioning must be horribly incongruent, and it's not a wonder that I don't play well with others.
Considering that I was listening to things like this for two straight years:
-"No one will ever love you."
-"If you leave me, you will have nothing" (except peace of mind)
-"No one will ever find you attractive" (then why did I have a new beau 8 hours after one of our break-ups?)
-"I'm the only one who really appreciates your body"
-"All you ever use anyone for is money and a car" (I was too young to drive, and he bought me things to win me back after he'd hit me or whatever)
-"You treat me like a piece of meat" (Even though I was 15, he was 18, and he raped me on several occasions)
The things in parentheses are things I should have said, should have realised. I wise up too late.
It was my fault, I was stupid. He told me those things enough times to where I believed them, utterly and completely, and here I am a year later still trying to straighten myself out from how fucked up he made me. For a while, I even thought it was normal to cry and walk weird after sex.
He was a bastard once, shame on him. He was a bastard again, shame on me for not leaving. He was a manipulative voyeur... and unfortunately for me... somewhere on the west coast there are nude photographs of the sixteen year old me on a computer disk.
There goes any shot I have at doing something honourable. Unless, of course, I can prove that I was 16 and he was 19 and get him into big shit trouble for child pornography. Do nude photos of people under 18 count as that? I hope so. I want him to feel the burn. I want him to be as completely fucked up as I was. It still makes me angry to the point of tears, and I try to forget about it...
But my justice has not yet been served.