6.20.2005

What I Really Wanna Know, My Baby. What I Really Want To Say, I Can't Define.

She was eighteen, what did she know. She thought she knew it all of course. She was bright and beautiful, or at least her family and her friends had always told her so. The bright part was never debatable, but the beauty part was of course. She has a crooked mouth and crooked eyebrow,(genetic as it seems many in her family were blessed as such); the eyebrow and lip on one side are slightly higher and more delineated than the other often times making her look at if she is smirking, when indeed she is not. She had always been thought of, except by the closest of her friends, as somewhat emotionless, even cold at times.She was not given to gossip or idle chatter and appeared not to care one way or the other about the daily goings on of people around her, yet she possessed an exceptional curiosity as to what really made people tick and was not at all reticent in her inquiries to the facts of a persons life. It was the little things she cared less about; things like the weather, local gossip, premenstrual symptoms. Failure was never an option. She headed off to college. Her basic needs: food, water, sleep and time to pursue her academic interests. Being extremely focused, as losing focus for even a day or two had dire consequences, (it happened once or twice that first year), she honed in on the only things that mattered to her; at least at the time, academics, social causes and the city. The city and what it had to offer were her life, she made it so; the city was what she wanted, the people, and the sheer diverse humanity of it. The rest could wait, would have to wait. She however, had a living situation which was not ideal under any circumstance. She needed quiet and time alone, time to study and time to sleep. Instead she was subject to being constantly jarred awake in the middle of the night by the noisy and animalistic sounds of the roommate and roommates boyfriend making love on the bed not six feet from her, or drunken conversations at three in the morning when said roommate would come home and want to discuss her evening. This would probably not have been that significant had she had anything in common with the roommate or if she had gotten to know the roommate a little better before the onset of such goings on but as it was she had only been there a week when this began and it did nothing to endear the roommate to her. One night after entering her room to find that it was again, (and perpetually), mating season she left to aimlessly wander and heard music coming from somewhere down the hall. She ventured down the hall to the room from which the music was coming and poked her head in the door; it was open. The Violin Man stopped playing and asked her in. She told him she was homeless and he replied, �we are all homeless�. Not a comforting thought but at this time at least she had a place to sit, and as it turned out that night, to sleep. Not to mention his room was much larger than hers and looked like a palace and he was sans roommate at this time. This is how she met and began her friendship with The Violin Man; that is what she calls him to this day at least on certain occasions. The Violin Man was actually a film student and political science major with eyes to die for and a butt worth kissing, who happened to play the violin among other things.She digresses as she often does. That third grade teacher teacher was so wrong about her never being off task, she lives off task. As luck would have it The Violin Man�s roommate had taken up residence in the apartment of his older lover and he was rarely present except to pick up mail. This was pure luck for her as this allowed her , after becoming fast friends with him , to have a haven of sorts to retreat to when necessary, a place to go when things were too noisy, too uncomfortable just plain miserable or when she had a headache and did not want to smell nail polish or Obsession. She got used to him very quickly and spent countless hours in his room with or without him present. They had no classes together but they studied together often, they ate together, went to concerts together and in general supported each other. They were two disinterested parties able to bounce ideas off of each other which in turn elicited new ideas. The friendship as platonic had been implied from the inception. The best part of this, for her, was that The Violin Man had a girlfriend in Boston and was not likely, or so she assumed, to want anything from her but friendship; she knew anything but friendship would cut severely into her plans and her past experience told her to avoid such energy sucking situations at all costs, at least for a few years until it was pretty clear that the goals previously set were going to be met without difficulty. She remembers later on after their relationship had solidified, and she thought the status quo would remain as such, the panic she felt when he dumped his girlfriend. She does not panic easily, she had snowboarded in the Rockies and the Andes, had flown all over the world, fallen off moving vehicles and broken ribs, ran in the park at night alone, but panic she did. She wanted the friendship, there was no doubt, she felt she would die without it however, she wanted nothing more or even a chance thereof. She decided on a course of action that to this day still perplexes even her; She wrote up a contract, a contract which in a foolish na�ve way stated that they would always be friends and support each other, through whatever bullshit was going on in school and in life. This contract also stated that they would remain platonic friends only as familiarity ( implying intimacy) breeds contempt , and relationships of any other kind were too life sucking for people on a one way track to whatever the fuck she thought they were on their way too. Of course he looked at her funny. Did he censure her? Did he say �go fuck yourself you stupid imbecilic bitch� .... no�he signed the contract. She thinks they toasted with some kind of crappy green tea but she can�t remember. Violin Man told her that he thought he was a symbolic representation of all that she chose to avoid in an effort to keep things uncluttered. He knows this as her basic photographic propensity is for black and white and to him this explains how her mind likes to perceive things. She often wonders what she symbolically represents to the Violin Man. That part of the story ends a year ago. There may be more and then again there may be less. Less is however the new more....... and this is good for people who like to live uncluttered lives.

30 Comments:

Blogger breasier said...

Intriguing premise. I'd love to see a resolution to this story, sugar.

6/20/2005 08:02:00 PM  
Anonymous joe.garbial@gmail.com said...

This is a very good piece I'm just not sure if it is a piece of fiction or a piece of history.
Nice that you can do this and stupid stuff and still appear credible.

For what it is worth.

I'll shall return, again.

joe garbial

6/20/2005 08:48:00 PM  
Blogger Mere Existence said...

Many times have I sacrificed the emotion for the sake of a future and an idea; the problem is that the only thing that was ever tangible was the emotion.

6/20/2005 10:50:00 PM  
Blogger Indeterminacy said...

This was an intriguing story, either true or not, but it somehow convinces me. However I think the more we try to control our feelings or guarantee situations, the more we tempt fate to toss us a moment of near insignificance that reverses our persepctive entirely. You yourself may be the one to tear up the contract someday.

6/20/2005 11:44:00 PM  
Blogger bell said...

Fiction and truth are often inseparable. I felt happy and sad upon reading this. I feel happy and sad at the same time frequently. I admire an ability to stay focused on goals; I value academic achievement and excellence. I have experienced the life sucking & attention averting qualities of intimate relationships most of my adult life; at a late age I struggle towards excellence and future goals in the midst of children and marriage [an all consuming situation] - it is hard. I often wonder what my life would have been like had I maintained more discipline & focus early on and not willingly got sucked into physical and emotional intimacy again and again; Kind of a moot query at this point.
Still I can�t help feeling sad about all that could have been or could not be for us all.
Regardless of outcome, it would seem that both parties in this situation where enriched, and for that, I think any suffering experienced, worth it.
May all being be happy and accomplish whatever mind desires.

6/20/2005 11:59:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I found you via NYU live journal and followed the link.

Nice piece of work. True is better and this gives the illusion of being so.

I'm reading some of your older entries and am having an interesting read. I have rarely found one of these things worth reading but you also have some interesting linkage and i may have found something to keep me through the summer.

I hope there is more.



Jacob

6/21/2005 02:10:00 AM  
Anonymous pia said...

So beautiful.

Learned when I was 18 that platonic friendships between women
and men rarely if ever work--however I still want to believe

6/21/2005 02:35:00 PM  
Blogger God said...

It's always good to have sanctuary.

6/21/2005 03:59:00 PM  
Anonymous Jake said...

Nice touch of Sublime or should we say the Sublime,let's say both.
Your writing is compelling and I for one will not venture to guess if the story is true but I take it to be.

6/21/2005 05:13:00 PM  
Blogger W. S. Cross said...

This really evokes all the classic novels where the heroine forsakes love for some other reason, then suffers incredibly for it. Well done!

6/21/2005 05:57:00 PM  
Blogger Trixie said...

Hey girl, you're good - really good. I look forward to reading more. And you like The Pixies and The Ramones (and, by all means, Dylan). Maybe you saw in my blog that Le Serpent wondered if I had any brothers - are we possibly sisters?

Love,
Trixie

6/21/2005 06:01:00 PM  
Blogger mojo shivers said...

Like I said, great post.

'Nuff said.

6/21/2005 10:35:00 PM  
Blogger Alice: In Wonderland or Not said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

6/22/2005 12:42:00 PM  
Blogger Malach the Merciless said...

I like to fight.

6/22/2005 01:51:00 PM  
Blogger Alice: In Wonderland or Not said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

6/22/2005 03:39:00 PM  
Blogger Jack Burden said...

I was gonna say "well done," but it looks like a bunch of people beat me to it.

So I'll just say "Thanks" for giving me a brief mental vacation from Cubicle Land. I'd send a postcard if I could.

6/22/2005 04:31:00 PM  
Anonymous Janet said...

That was beautifully written, and had a very good flow.

6/22/2005 05:08:00 PM  
Blogger Trixie said...

I liked the previous version even more. (This is of course not meant to sway or disturb you in any way, just to add to the mystery.)
Love,
Sis

6/22/2005 05:37:00 PM  
Blogger bell said...

I agree, they often are one and the same; contemplating what could have been is a waste of energy; What is, is all there is; there is no other time than now.

6/22/2005 06:09:00 PM  
Blogger thatoldsoul said...

Music make u lose control
music make u lose control

(Fatman Scoop)
lets go
yeah yeah yeah
yeah yeah yeah
here we go now
here we go now
here we go now
here we go now
watch out now
(music make u lose control)
misdemeanors in da house
ciaras in da house
misdemeanors in tha house
fat man scoop man scoop man scoop

(Missy Elliot)
ive got a cute face
chubby waist
thick legs n shape
rump shakin both wayz
make u do a double take
plan rocka show stopa
flo froppa head knocka
beat stalla tail droppa
do ma thang muthafukas
ma rose royce lamborghini
blu madina alwayz beamin
ragtop chrome pipes
blu lights outta sight
no me sow it n
set it n sow it n
make dat money tho it n
booty bouncin gon hit

(Missy Elliot & Ciara)
everybody here
get it outta control
get yo backs off tha wall
cuz misdemeanor said so
everybody
everybody
everybody

(Missy Elliot)
everybody

(Ciara)
well ma name iz ciara
4 all u fly fellaz
no 1 can do it betta

(Missy Elliot)
she�ll sing on acapella

(Ciara)
boy tha music
makes me lose control

(Missy Elliot)
we gon make u lose control
and let it go 4 u kno
u gon hit tha flo

i rok 2 da beat till im tired (tired)
walk n da club it�s fiya(fiya)
get it krunk and wired
wave ya hands scream louda
if u smoke den fiya it up
bring da roof down
den holla
if u tipsy stand up
dj turn it louda
take sumbody by da waist den uh
now tho it in dey face like uh
hypnotic robotic
this here will rok yo bodies
take sumbody by da waist den uh
now tho it in dey face like uh
systematica static
this hit be automatic

work wait
work work work wait
work work work wait
work work work wait
do it right

(Fatman Scoop)
hit tha floor hit tha floor
hit tha floor hit tha floor
hit tha floor hit tha floor
hit tha floor

(Missy Elliot & Ciara)
everybody here
get it outta control
get yo backs off tha wall
cuz misdemeanor said so
everybody
everybody
everybody

(Missy Elliot)
everybody

(Fatman Scoop)
lets go

(Missy Elliot)
everybody here
get it outta control

(Ciara)
get yo backs off da wall)
(Missy Elliot)
cuz misdemeanor said

(Ciara)
so
everybody
everybody
everybody

(Missy Elliot)
everybody
get loose

(Fatman Scoop)
put yo back on tha wall
put yo back on tha wall
putyo back on tha wall
put yo back on tha wall

misdemeanors in da house
ciaras in da house
misdemeanors in tha house
(music make u lose control)
we on fiya
we on fiya
we on fiya
we on fiya
now tho it gurl
tho it gurl
tho it gurl
tho it gurl
yeah
now move yo arm 2 tha left gurl
now move yo arm 2 tha left gurl
now move yo arm 2 tha right gurl
now move yo arm 2 tha right gurl
lets go now lets go now lets go now
wooo lets go
should i bring it back right now
now bring it back now
woooo oohhh
i see u c
now ima iam do it like c did
now shake it gurl
cum on and jus shake it gurl
cum on and jus shake it gurl
cum on and jus shake it gurl
cum on and let it pop right gurl
cum on and let it pop right gurl
cum on and let it pop right gurl
now bak it up gurl
bak it up gurl
bak it up gurl
bak it up gurl
woooo woooo woooo
go go
bring it 2 da front gurl go go
bring it 2 da front gurl go go
bring it 2 da front gurl go go
bring it 2 da front gurl lets go lets go lets go
wooo

6/23/2005 01:22:00 AM  
Blogger David Solomon said...

Interesting post, though why not let nature take its course. The man seemed perfect for the girl so why not let what will happen happen without the establishment of meaningless titles...

Perhaps the girl's insecurites made her automatically think that the guy would have no other interest in her beside friendship, leading her to push frienship hardcore. When in reality, they were a perfect match indeed.

regardless nice work.

6/23/2005 12:35:00 PM  
Blogger Alice: In Wonderland or Not said...

Breasier: An intriguing premise indeed.

Joe: yes I can do incredibly credible stupid stuff.

Mere Existence: Often times too tangible.

Bell: fiction and truth at times seem to be one and the same. I hope, as should everyone, to never wonder too often about what could have been and concentrate on what is. What is i real seems to me to be what is now be it fiction or not.

Indeterminacy: do we not, at times, need that control though?


Joe: yes I can do incredibly credible stupid stuff.

Mere Existence: Often times too tangible.

Jacob: There is always more.

Pia: I will believe until I am absolutely positive it can't happen.

god: so now you show up????????????

Jake: don't venture to guess.

Cross: The heroine hopes not to suffer too much.

Trixie: We may be sisters. I'll check with my covert - op team.

MoJo: Nuff said. ;)



I have been very busy and posted everything twice so I am deleting my comments and redoing this prior to the art class I am teaching.


ENJOI: WTF. Sadly I think I get it.



Solomen: I believe the girls has very little in the way of basic insecurities and that she knows that the guys basic interest lies much deeper , however one goes beyond a certain point in a relationship , say towards intimacy, should the intimate relationship not work out, one often loses the friendship. It being the friendship she can' do with out she may feel it is not worth it. This may have been explored already and possible will be explained in future posts. Life
continues.

Thank You Janet and Burden I am glad you came by.

MalAch : ???

I hope to get to some catching up on reading everyone�s journals tonight.

6/23/2005 01:17:00 PM  
Blogger thatoldsoul said...

Get on Aim fool i got da QuEsTiOnS, W)0))t00!1111

Edit - liberals suckz lolrzz.

6/24/2005 03:25:00 AM  
Blogger Nony Mitchell said...

friends...a tricky proposition in even the best of situations...

6/24/2005 11:01:00 AM  
Blogger SoApY~! said...

great post

6/30/2005 02:53:00 AM  
Blogger Graham said...

Beautifully written. As I see is often the case here at Wonderland or Not :). I enjoy your voice.

As for this gal and violin man it is hard to say... but I know that sometimes in life when something is beyond our control, or the potential exists for it to get messy and hurtful, we can assert ourselves in the same manner as this young woman did with a contract, and confine the bounds of what might lie ahead for us. Such stuff is self-protection and precludes the greatest possibility for the meeting of hearts with others because vulnerability is often the essential pre-requisite for allowing someone to really connect to you.

And I get the impression that somewhere that's what this girl with the beautiful crooked mouth and crooked eyebrow, deep down is looking for. Because its in those places, open yet safe, that we really understand ourselves.

Be well Alice

8/11/2005 03:25:00 AM  
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9/19/2006 03:37:00 PM  
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9/21/2006 02:21:00 PM  

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