I am only one face,
in a sea of fake beauty.
I am not the perfect face,
and so you disregard me.
30.7.05
my first cigarette
Last night was my stepsister's birthday party, I had to work so I didn't go, aside from the fact that I didn't even know it was happening, I am sorry I missed it though. But I think I had enough fun that evening anyway. I wasn't in a good mood when my parent picked me up though, for some reason people only want to rent videos five minutes before closing so I ended up staying for about fifteen minutes longer than I wanted to. I know that doesn't seem that bad but I had already run out of cigarettes the night before and I don't get paid until monday so I just wanted to go home and sleep so I wouldn't have to think about the next three days I'd have to go without. We had to stop at the gas station to get my mom cigarettes, she needed to stock up (something I should probably consider doing myself), while she was in the store I mentioned to my dad that she owed me two packs, as I had bought them for her a few weeks ago. Of course, since she doesn't know that I smoke I certainly can't remind her of that so I said to him that I'd just have to go without for the next four days. And it was at that precise moment that my mother got to the car.
"Without what for four days?"
"Soda", I said immediately, "I haven't had one for four days, aren't you proud?" This was pretty much true, give or take a day or three.
"Oh, yeah."
"I'm just sticking to water now, even though I don't really like this water," I held up my menehune water bottle, the only kind they sell at work, "it tastes like plastic."
"Give me a drink of that," she took a swig, "I can't taste anything." She lit her cigarette and held it up, "You should have one of these, you won't taste anything either."
My dad lets out a stifled laugh, "yeah," I say, "give me one of those and maybe I'll drink more water"
"No, you don't want one while your in the car, you'll be so sick. You probably won't eat for weeks."
"I don't think so," my dad says and we both burst out laughing.
"Oh no," she insists, "you'll be all sick and your head will be spinning, you won't want to eat anything. You'll probably lose weight."
"Hmmm, well maybe I should try one."
"No, then Dan'll have to be running to the store to get you cigarettes all the time."
My dad just can't seem to stop laughing and this point and I'm sitting there behind him, covering my face with one hand and slapping his shoulder with the other. My mother just doesn't seem to realize that she is in the middle of one big private joke.
I was really hoping she'd give me one, just so I could cough and act all sick, like a test of my skills, unfortunately by the time we got home the matter was forgotten. Just something else for me and my dad to laugh about when she's not in the room.
I place death's decorative handle between my two fingers and bring it to my lips, embracing the smoke like an old friend. my only friend, it takes pity on me, encircling my fingers like ghostly rings and clouding my vision, keeping from me what I don't want to see how can something so fatal be so beautiful?
Turkish tobacco is light and smooth but strong, so strong, and the jade cuts my throat as I inhale. I was about to say I should quit but I know I won't, why raise false hopes in those of you left with any hope for me at all. It's not my regular cigarette, it tastes too expensive for me, only to get me through the night. who knows how I'll get through tomorrow. Relying on the kindness of strangers and my skills as a petty thief, trusting in god to give me all that I'll need to self-destruct.
It would be easier if my parents were just dead, then I would have a reason to greive for them, they are still here but I grieve for them already. Then it would be okay for me to feel like this, then I wouldn't have to be angry with them. If they were just dead. When I went to the hospital I was living with my father, on my last day there they told me I had to decide whether or not I would live with my mother or go back to my father, I told them I would rather live in a group home than to go back to either, but in the end I had to decide to live with my mom, I guess that's what everyone expected me to do. When I got out and went back to my dad's house to get all of my things I found that he had thrown everything into trash bags and dumped them, with my dog, at my grandmother's house. His gate was locked and he had taped a note to a tree at the end of his drive way for me. In it he basically wished me a happy life and said he hoped I found all I needed, like I hurt him and he was just ready to never see me again. I don't remember exactly what it said and I tore it up because I was so angry, of course now I wish I'd kept it but I suppose it's better I didn't, it'd only torture me. But just the fact that he was so willing to just give up, like it wouldn't bother him that he didn't have a daughter anymore. He's always been that way though, when my parents first got divorced and they had joint custody he had something like every weekend and every other wednesday to see me but he never did. He just didn't want to be my father, and he still doesn't. If I don't take the initiative I would probably never see my father, as it is we haven't spoken in months, and not for lack of trying, he just doen't return my calls. I've gone years without seeing my father, and for most of my life he's lived less than a two hour drive away. He may as well be dead, or I may as well be.
I just walked in on my dad and my uncle doing a line of coke. I just sort of walked away, then we all talked as if nothing had happened. I lit a cigarette, normally I wouldn't smoke in front of my uncle but what the fuck is he going to say? Even he wouldn't be that hyppocritical. I feel strangely apathetic, I know this should probably affect me but I just can't seem to care. I mean, I knew they did it but knowing and seeing it are two entirely different animals. I just felt like I saw something I shouldn't have, and nobody said anything about it, I guess they know I won't say anything. Normally I can tell if my dad is high or not, it was when he was really fucked up that he would molest me, but I'm not sure if he did anything now, he was talking alot, about normal things, but I'm not sure if that was to cover up the fact that he just did or that I just saw him about to do it. He was cutting on the picture of Colton, his grandson. For some strange reason it was the most comfortable I've felt around either of them, or my uncle at least, it was as if I was in denial before, and I found myself resenting them. Now it's like I've just accepted them, and they accept me, I guess we're cool. Not that what they're doing is ok, or that I approve in any way, but it's like now I've come to terms with it, it's no longer my problem. I can just imagine what my mother would do if she'd been in my place. It's a fact of life though, they seem more real, more honest now. Dad's admitted to me that he does drugs, we talk about it sometimes, he doesn't feel as if he's doing anything wrong or that he has a problem. I guess they are more human to me now, I didn't realize how much I resented them until now, I guess because they're my family, I had expectations for them because I love them. Now I realize that it was all wasted, they are who they are and they are not perfect, I feel better now that they're not hiding it from me, if they continue to it would be pointless. I wandered into the room to see if there was anything left on the picture while they were in the living room, I was curious, I want to know what it feels like, I know I would never ask, and they would probably never give me. I can't help it though, I guess it'd be just one more thing to torment myself with, one more way to escape. I don't feel let down, it's more like I was the one who wronged them, expecting them to be something other than what they are just for me. I'm suprised I'm so objective about this, I guess I shouldn't be, hysteria really isn't in character for me. I guess I'm glad this happened, because I was able to identify one more of my illusions and clear myself of it.
I found this book on one of the tables outside the corner pocket, an AA book with quotes and as soon as I opened it I found this amazing quote, it was like fate. The first in a series of proufond encounters that fateful night.
No longer is my past an autobiography. It is a reference book to be taken down, opened and shared. Today as I report for duty, the most wonderful picture comes through. For, though this day be dark -- ans some days must be -- the stars will shine even brighter later. My witness that they do shine will be called for in the very near future. All my past will this day be a part of me, because it is the key not the lock.
It just occured to me that I haven't ever really mentioned Amy before or how I met her, and although nobody actually cares, it just bothers me that I've left that out. My parent have their whole wednesday night dinner thing, which is supposed to be at a different person's house every week but, more often than, it gets moved to our house. For a couple of weeks Dude hadn't been coming and I heard something about him having a new girlfriend that was half his age but it really wasn't any of my business so I didn't pay it any mind, one wednesday he brought her, and she her guitar. Well I was automatically drawn to her by that, I got out my guitar and we started playing a little, she was teaching me how to play some songs she wrote and she offered to give me some free lessons. I was thrilled to say the least, for some reason I just can't seem to learn guitar from books, music theory is too boring, and just watching her that night I learned more than I ever had from any book. I didn't really take the offer for lessons too seriously at the time though, she seemed a bit cracked out at the time, but still genuinely weird (in the good way). That was the night she broke one of my guitar strings, the high e, which I still haven't replaced yet. Over the next couple of weeks she was in and out of the hospital, the psychiatric ward, and the cracked out behavior made sense finally, the next time she came for dinner she was more lucid and I really got to know her better. We played guitar again, her beautifully and me badly, and she's let me borrow one of her classical guitars, which has become my new favorite thing-that-isn't-mine in the world. I went to her house and helped her paint her room and we went to the movies and to the bhudahead concert and I think that pretty much brings us up to where we are. I've become a better guitar player in the past month that in all the two years I've been playing, just watching her is inspirational. I wrote two songs of my own, one of which I played for her and was pretty well recieved. I never thought I could write a song, I just couldn't understand how. We talk about philosophy and life, she is so amazingly open to everything and she has such faith, I'm not sure what she has faith in but it's incredible to witness. She's been through so much, I really identify with her, and I've learned so much from her, and her innocence. She's really my best friend right now, as stupid as that sounds.
I fell asleep at around four this afternoon, well technically it was yesterday, and woke up at eight so I don't think I'll be able to get any sleep tonight. I was just so tired after yesterday, Amy and I went to the corner pocket to listen to clubhouse underground, they were pretty good, the singer was kind of blah but they did some good covers. It was around 12:30 when the owner finally threw me out, apparantly you're not supposed to be in a bar unless your 21, of course this was after I'd been there since nine and already had a few drinks. We were supposed to go to hilo on the bus today but Amy just got a job so we went after I got off work to celebrate. It was altogether pretty fun, the kind of music you can dance to, not like the last time we went when bhudahead was playing. It was a little weird that time though, the lead singer of bhudahead is Amy's ex, and she was getting a little down towards the end of the night. This time was great, we met some interesting people, or I met them as Amy already knew most of them. Like I've said before, I don't get out much. There was this amazing guy there with his son, he used to run the kona psychic center, normally I don't buy into that astrology stuff but this guy was just incredibly wise. I talked with him for most of the night while his son chatted up Amy. Talking to him was like confirming my own beliefs and incorporating new things at the same time, it was like getting validation. He read mine and Amy's palms, I've had my palm read before and it was fairly accurate but this guy knew intimate details, like my relationship with my parents, especially my father. After a while I needed some time to think so I decided to go for a walk while I finished my cigarette, Amy joined me and we walked across the street to a dark driveway and just talked for awile, mostly about molestation and my theories on victims. I'm really glad I met Amy, I feel so comfortable around her. A little while after we got back is when I got kicked out but I was only waiting outside for about a half hour before we left, they came outside and we talked with Dan some more and Nate, his son. They gave us a ride to Amy's house where her mother was having a poker game, Dan and Nate stayed for awhile and Amy played a couple of songs and Dan played one song that Amy had been talking about all night, Infant Ballet, it was really a beautiful song. She had to go to sleep after that because she worked in the morning but I decided to stay up for awhile, the power went out around the time Dan and Nate were about to leave so I decided to go to sleep then. We got up at eight in the morning and just laid there in bed for an hour, when we finally went downstairs we found that John, who was at the poker game, had stayed the night. We just hung around in the dining room for most of the morning, I played Amy the song I had written, my very first, after John left. We left at ten thirty and I waited for my dad to pick me up across the street from manago's, where Amy works, he was taking Laura to work and to the bank, we went to mcdonalds after we dropped her off because we had to feed my mother. So I got home, ate and took a shower and watched a movie and passed out. We really should do that again. Nate is having a birthday party on monday and I think I'll try to go, if only to talk to Dan again.
