I am in the basement, snuggled in the blanket that Christen got me ages ago. I always come down here when I feel the need to write and I don’t want anyone to hear.
I’ve been meaning to write this whole diatribe about Terry and Kelly…but I don’t really have the energy.
I haven’t been writing because my neck has been absolutely killing me. I don’t know what happened… I just woke up at Christen’s house and all of the sudden this immense pain was in my neck.
It’s amazing that I actually have been able to get some homework done today. I spent most of the day making eggplant Parmesan. I saw this eggplant at Trader Joe’s last week and I thought “I NEED IT.”
I started making me the damn thing at 3 p.m. and put it in the oven at 7 p.m. Yeah. I don’t think I’ll be making that again any time soon. But it was so good…I’m torn.
The main event of this weekend was watching the amazing Fellini film, La Dolce Vita. I had seen one of his other films, but this one was FUCKING INCREDIBLE.
Ever see a movie that had a character that reminded you so much of yourself that you gained new insights into your own psyche? Marcello all the way.
I’ve been thinking about this damn film all weekend. This is what I love about great cinema.
Well, if you haven’t seen it, the main character, Marcello, it sort of drifting through his life. He’s dating this girl that’s totally obsessed with him, but he’s not really that involved in it. He ends up sleeping with this cool chick, but he doesn’t really have the will to overcome the inertia with his girlfriend.
Of course, that’s totally different from my situation, but I can really identify with Marcelo’s ennui. He ends up hanging around with all these movie stars and later in the movie the corrupt aristocracy of Italy, and they have nothing to do but sit around and drink. In one of the very last scenes, this guy is talking to Marcello about how even though more and more people keep dropping out of the scene, but ten more show up to take their place. And that in 10 years, it will be “total perversion.”
I often think that the world is getting more and more terrifying. But Marcello doesn’t really care, he’s just going with the flow. Total Darius modus operandi.
I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking and thinking and thinking about me and Terry… and all of my trains of thought get all knotted and everything seems so confusing, and I don’t know what anything means. I just get in these moods where everything he says upsets me. But then I will go over to his house and we’ll have a wonderful time.
He says that I’m grasping for straws to find something wrong with our relationship. Which I guess is true in some way. He is not the kind of guy I imagine myself with. Whether the kind of guy I imagine myself with is the kind of guy who would actually be good for me, it is never quite certain. However, I want to date somebody that is… well… an intellectual.
As I was watching this film, I couldn’t help but think that this was a kind of thing that Terry and I couldn’t enjoy together.
We have vastly different interests. I would rather watch a not-so-obscure art film from the 50s than go to a party. That’s the kind of person I am. Oddly enough, being around him makes me want to be creative and artistic…I guess to be cultured enough for the both of us.
I was talking to Brian tonight, and he was asking how it was going with Terry, and to tell you the truth, I couldn’t give him an answer that made any sense. He asked if I was happy. And to tell you the truth, I have no idea.
I guess it’s just that I haven’t seen him in so long. I mean, before he started his job we had this cool thing going. I would get off work and we would do something fun, maybe I would stay over. During the weekends we would sleep in and cooked breakfasts. It was really cute and romantic. And now he works all the time, we have incompatible schedules, and it’s damn frustrating.
Everything gets blown out of proportion, I get angry, we don’t communicate well, he gets angry… but we seem to hash it out in the end.
I had this terrible dream last night where we were both at a party with all of his “friends,” and they told him that we were all going to have an orgy, and he just went along with it, telling me it was going to be so much fun, while I stood there in horror.
The reality of the dream was that I didn’t trust him to be the same “him” all the time. He just seems to be into whatever way the wind is blowing. I remember a while ago Christen was telling me that her ideal kind of guy would be someone that she could try new things with. I’m very into trying new things, but I want to try interesting things. I remember the tired Allen rhetoric of “trying new things” when it was really just the same old alcohol/party BS.
I think it’s really cool that he doesn’t drink as much as he used to, and he seems to be treating Christen the way she deserves to be treated.
But still. I have a big problem with Terry smoking. I guess I have a big problem with everyone that smokes. Because your friends aren’t really your friends, they are your smoking buddies. I guess I’m really against drugs because they are a fake way to have insights about things. Or, I guess I better word would be that they are a shortcut to things that you wouldn’t normally think about. And I don’t think that’s right. True growth comes from within, not without.
And whenever my significant other drinks or smokes to excess, I just kind of sigh and think wistfully that we don’t share the same goals in life.
I see our society is becoming more and more medicated, and it sickens me. It also sickens me to think of Terry smoking. It’s so damn trashy. And I can’t help but think “what a trashy faggot.”
He told me that someday in the future he wanted to do ecstasy. And I’m not OK with that. It’s days like this where I feel like I’m going to be alone forever.
I asked him what his fantasy life was like. What he could do if he could do anything he wanted to, like be a superhero or a Film Noir character.
He told me that he wanted to have a big house in the suburbs with a white picket fence and kids and know the neighbors.
That’s his fantasy life.
I have never met somebody so creatively bankrupt.
I picture the man of my dreams, an amalgamation of Meursault, Sartre, Hiro Protagonist, Ripley, Roy Batty, Alexander the Great: well-read, witty and creative, flying through the galaxy, inseparable, exploring uncharted worlds and data nets.
I want my lover and I do read obscure literature at the café, watch indie movies, and be at least a little pretentious.
He’s not what I want.
But after watching that movie I felt like I could be like Marcello… just sink into this life of inertia. All of those characters are in purgatory though. And as I was trying to explain it, I realized I didn’t want to be in purgatory.
In my lifespan human development class it says that people that don’t have a good relationship with their mother early on have a very hard time developing deeper connections later in life. And I get the feeling that Terry doesn’t have what I need him to give me. And I don’t have all he needs: someone who will mold themself in his image so that he doesn’t have to deal with any of his issues.
He’s very good at manipulating me, but I know that he hasn’t let me in. I guess at this point I’m just waiting. I want to be the first real friend I think he’s had a long time. Someone who will stand by him unlike those ridiculous fag hags that he calls friends.
I see the embryo of someone who could become an amazing, well-rounded person if he could just…well…GROW UP. But that’s probably never going to happen. His mother is dying of cancer, and he even makes jokes about it. I don’t know what to do for him.
I feel so much for that boy. I just think of his face and I melt. I just wish he was a different person. Someone who could express his emotions. Someone with real friends.
He keeps giving me all this stuff about “have you even been in a real relationship?” I just don’t get it. He told me himself that his longest relationship lasted three months.
I guess it all comes down to this. If what he tells me is true and he wants a life of drunken parties with friends who don’t really care about him, that’s fine. I want no part of it.
If we stay together, a part of me will always feel like I’ve settled. And if my Alexander the Great did show up… what would I tell him? That this was all a lie? Something to keep me entertained?
That’s not fair to him.
I need him to grow to become my Roy Batty. And if that isn’t going to happen, I need to end this.
Categories: Ennui