Existence In The Diaspora

It was a real dilemma, considering whether or not to write here, to write of what I do and how here, after I was accused of being "self involved". Yes, a real dilemma, because quite frankly: how does one keep a diary and honestly dispute that accusation? How does one declare a boundary and deny this accusation? How does one even look in the mirror and expect to be able to deny this accusation? Oh it's so exhausting, giving a shit about what people think of you. So I'll just crank up Mariah Carey & sh-sh-shake it off.

Besides I think the Catholic Charities I volunteer for gutting houses (which I confess I absolutely hate doing, it's my least favorite job on the planet) as well as all the community service I do along with the homeless people I regularly bring sandwiches to and give bus money to and all the animals I feed with food I buy with money I choose not to spend on myself not to mention the cats I comfort and brush and find homes for at the SPCA as well as the senior citizens I give Christmas cards to and Easter eggs and the grievers I make casseroles for and the art projects I do for absolutely no personal material gain in my devotion to the spiritual healing of New Orleans on top of the people I am always ready and willing to lend a shoulder or an ear to would disagree. At least I hope they would. I guess this list has something to do with why such an accusation makes me wanna spit nails. I mean fuck: I don't live in a condo in the Marigny I live in a tiny trailer that floods and why? Why again? Do you even know who I am.

How dare people make declarative insulting statements about other people, sneaking them inbetween an orange soda and some jazz? All I ever said was, "Before I even consider making out with you I want to make sure you really care about me." Oh, the trickery of man! That I let comments like that even affect me to the point where I become self-conscious and apologetic for being who I am is bullshit, is what sneaky little poisonous barbs are designed to do in the first place.

The library is cold. I've been revising and revising. Searching for images to inform my Mardi Gras costume, which begins to take on a Jewish Russian Chagall-ian flavor. Maybe I'll carry around a pot of good chicken noodle with matzo ball soup while cows and moons fly out of my head. A good bottle of sherry and two etched glasses to sip from with whoever so chooses. A noble pigeon on my shoulder, glass tears on my hem.

And why does the prospect of getting a real map built for ArtInAction, interactive with pins to locate the art, helping folks digest the project as a piece in its entirety, just intimidate me? Maps and their order, reverting to that aerial view again. For how many months did I stare down at my city, fighting to find a way back in? I am still burning from the loss and exclusion, the mistakes I made and have not forgotten. So what does this have to do with my procrastination in making an ArtInAction map? Jesus, times like this, I miss Arun, hard and bad. He could always see right through the gymnastics, the bullshit and fancy dances, and just speak truthfully in a way that made perfect sense to me. My brain and body relaxed. He said once, "You could be in Topeka and I could be in Timbuktu and we will always be together." So now that he's ten years dead what about that?

Comments

[D. Shit.]

Nope, y'can't let the assholes get ya down. And I don't care how many compliments a guy gives you, if he's not like your best friend he's got no place speaking like that. Self involved my ass. Does he like FUSION????

And watching those Bears eat your Saints made me hate them even more. Go Colts!

[EAU]

Oh man, that game just HURT so bad. It was an awful feeling, really awful. People were dizzy, telling eachother how to feel, "Think positive! We came this far! Always next year!" and all I could think was, well, back to the trailer, it was fun while it lasted. Took me hours to get home, too. I did go out to the airport to cheer them on when they got home though. That was really something and I got to yell at Sean Payton "Sean! I love you! Coach me coach me!" Go Colts for real! I hate those Bears.

[Indy 500]

Pretty amazing, how belligerent we men folk can get when the girls don't give it up so easily.

[MIV]

well I for one am glad you got over your dilemma and decided to be all self-involved in public for our pleasure again.

Those river photos take my breath away. What did you shoot them with?

[D SHITE]

I want some matzo!

[EAU]

I took the pix w/my cell phone. I've been at the river a lot lately, walking dogs on the levee. I can't wait to be in my cabin in Algiers & walk that levee too - gonna be lots of river tales to tell then - I need the river so much these days, it's my current obsession.

[Speller]

Ha ha I love how "liking fusion" is equal to being insensitive.

You're a total original, Miss Croweau, and some fellows just can't handle that. I'll take a woman with healthy boundaries over an easy catch any old day. A guy has got to be high to think they're gonna exploit the likes of you.

[EAU]

Yeah, D Shite's funny like that.

God, I'd forgotten I'd even written this, it's so off my radar now. But I don't know that I'm a total original - I know of so many interesting unique women - plus I feel like such a product of my environment, y'know? Anyhow - it's just so f'in BORING to be reduced to just a toy a fellow wants to play with. Essentially that's how it felt to me tho' he might disagree - nobody likes to be rejected - whatever. I'm a zombie today, not original at all!