>Did you just try one publisher? Is one shot at writing it the all or nothing
>end of it? You have to hit a hole in one or go home? Don't you have
>something else to say since? Aren't you a different writer now? Couldn't the
>guy be right? Is this about his rejection of you? Why is he important? What
>do you need?
oh steve... heh, i know what you are doing but... i'm kinda
difficult, in oh so many ways :-)
well, one of the things wherein i am difficult is that i am unable to
function without a great deal of, you know, positive reinforcement or
something. you may call it someone(s) holding my hand and every few
minutes reiterating, it's okay ef, the stuff's okay, we like
it, you're okay, keep doing it. cause me, alone, i chew myself to
pieces and then, seeing as the thus bloodied pieces are rather
unattractive, stop. maybe even run away. i do that a lot. and
steve... surely you have noticed that, you know, when here even, i
beg for reinforcement of my ahem, worth, sanity, whatever.
well, for whatever my shortcomings, i *am* brutally honest. haha,
maybe that's the problem.
and, you know, the few times that i do, sorta, step outside and hand
something over to a stranger... well, i'm too too too fucking
this annoys my friends greatly... heh, and who can blame them... but
they have learned to live with it.
gak... this is actually painful, to talk about all this.
my mother always told me all was futile, that human beings were
shits. i mean, that is her legacy to me. the hatred. and me, do try
to fight that, i do, you know, try. when she died, well, i felt
relief. i have never told anyone that, that yes, i loved my mother,
but i felt relief when she died. no more weekly phonecalls. crying on
the phone, that life is shit. and me the buddha of 7th avenue, half
hour to calm her down, make her laugh. i was real good at it...
except i would then shake for a few days afterward. see, i knew her
to be wrong but i suspected her to be right. okay, so that's not so
unusual, i mean probably a common syndrome of children of camp
but then, all that other stuff. when we were refugeeing around the
globe. i only felt safe with orphans, you know, fellow rejects.
that's something i understand. (haha, mark: that was a true story,
and you are seeing the rest of what happened, ain't ya! :-)). and all
that still remains, az ever. it's not too bad, it gives me, ah,
perspective, don't it. the gypsies? well, that's cause i understand.
i know how it feels. except for my, relatively speaking, economic
advantage, i, in fact, *am* them. pain, rejection, hatred... yesyes,
the something i understand. so i do what i do out of yes, love. the
only love i can know.
>I don't have any solutions for you. You're intent on playing out a tragedy,
>despite your full qualifications to use your experience and wisdom.
ah, tragedy. wherein lies the tragedy? that i cannot fulfill oh, i
dunno, my what? destiny? that i am incapable of well, turning what i
am, - or may be, who knows - into economic advantage? well, a teeny
tiny tragedy... a tragedette, if you will. i would so like to... get
it and give it away. i like to see people happy, it gives me, you
know, a thrill.
(speaking of which, i also, you may have noticed, like giving the
WhatIAm away. free art and all that. it's then a bit of a conundrum,
ain't it. to need proceeds but decry the exclusivity of well,
>One thing. Don't tell me you're incapable.
of some things, yes. as far as myself, yes. i am incapable, too
easily wounded, too prone to self-shatterings. but as far as others,
no. very capable, vast courage, i am not afraid... as far as the
needs of others. probably, ironically, because of the first part. the
>I don't buy it.
>You really want the title fuckup?
sure, why not. perhaps i shall learn to wear it, ah, proudly?
>That's a little easy isn't it?
>You want to help the people around you or not?
yah. gladly. all the walking wounded feel like family, to me.
>Then tell the world what it is to be a human being. Isn't that what the guy
>was saying to you?
the world, as you put it, dear dear steve... couldn't give less of a
fuck. haha. what it is to be a human being is about the last thing
the world wants to know. the world, as you put it, wants a nice condo
with good strong bars at the window. to keep out the ah,
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