So here's my deal, and I'm just going to spill my crazy stupid guts because it's the night before and I can't stop thinking about this place I'm in. This feeling of being stuck.
So at some point I firmly got it in my head that I am soulmates with a British singer 14 years older than me who is stylish and lives in a time trap and sees ghosts maybe like I do, I dunno. So I ask him and he says he doesn't but it doesn't deter me from holding onto the dream. I envisioned going out and him wearing a fake beard and ball cap so Moz fans don;t ruin our lunch or trip to the store. Now a man in a beard is asking me out telling me he;s safe. It;s like it;s my calling to help him feel normal though he's saddled with a burdomsome immense gift/curse. At least his lyrics indicate he is, and some of his mannerisms. So I send him letters and postcards and packages, none of them answered. At this point I think they are being KEPT from him. Then I deliver them to his manager's office, still no response. He must think I'm just another nutjob and I don't put that past him, I would to. But something always looms, this beckoning in the signs I see to wait for him, to save
HIM. But I can't. I am one girl. I can't get to him other than to haunt him back. All very romantic and heartbreaking, but to live it is very real. And I'm odd. Birds divebomb me while I drive, cats walk up to me and meow at odd times, my dogs are beyond stressed the last two days and I'm not projecting, they just act weird. I can watch a movie and during the dialogue I hear the reason why this or that happened, all very Idea of Referencey, but also very convincing. So in short, I'm nuts, but it;s like I'm nuts with a purpose to save someone who may be a closet nut, who has called and called and called, and now that the stars have aligned and I've been through hell and learned a great deal, he doesn't respond. I'm flabberghasted by it, yet at the same time if I were him, I wouldn;t respond to me...unless what I said rang a bell or touched a nerve or made sense.
So people I hang around, they talk to me and are my friend and whatnot, but there is a distance. And for no lack of trying to connect on my part. I never get propositioned or flirted with. SO now there's this guy. He probably wanted to hear my voice because he suspects I'm an easy lay, I approached HIM the first time because I sensed he was safe. Now he wants to take me to dinner, texting that money isnt an issue. I told him not to spend a lot of money becuase he wasn;t getting laid, he said he wasn;t looking but asked why, I said I was a gentle flower lol, he said he was a gentle gardener. NO GOOD CAN COME OF THIS. Because in my mind, I want to share myself that way with the impossible dream. And so here I sit telling the f***ing internet my impossible, embarrassing dream. I can't even tell you how f***ed up my life has been. And so the last four years, the symbolism, the studying, the meditation, the concentration, the safety patrol. All of it has the possibility to wash down the drain if the wheels are turned just right and he catches me in a moment where I am the child, because I do that, I can become very vulnerable and want to please the adult in the room even if the adult is younger than me, I'm on this wheel, it;s hard to describe, and sometimes I become like a little kid. I have to be with someone safe. And now these advances by someone claiming to be that safe person. All my work can go down the tubes and I foresaw this, I played a Gorillaz song, "I want to f*** with you" I knew it was going to happen, now....grrr f***. And it seems like the big picture seems to show that it is a game, I saw Almost Famous, I'm like a band-aid traded for a 12 pack of beer and now this woman man child is being thrown into the fire.
I have a feeling I will delete this in a minute.
I sort of wish one of his people would read this and take pity on me and call me on the telephone and say with authority, that Morrisssey has communicated to them that he has no idea what I'm talking about, that he can set me free from thinking he wants me to save him. I wish someone would help me. Because what if this boy is just what I need? It doesn;t feel right, but what if by being trapped in my own lalaland I am preventing myself from having someone to pal around with and putting my painful painful history behind me. Not a lot of people can ask that of an artist, it would just take a few minutes to call and say, "No Amie, you aren't the girl least likely to. You aren;t the boy with the thorn in your side or my mental boxer. Those are just songs, dear. Have a nice life."