I’m not stupid, I’m not ugly. I’ve got to get to the point where I’ve got no shyness, just reverence. Shyness is ridiculous. Most defense mechanisms are. I guess I’ve just got to be patient. Things will work out for me. Someone ALWAYS comes along—I’ve just got to give it time.
Damn, I really wish mom had that pot now. It just takes the edge off, without making me too wild, or too weirded-out.
Dear Nobody,
Trying to make good friends in a new place is one of the hardest things to do, especially for me. I mean, first off, consider how I don’t HAVE any friends to make me feel good. Then there’s the issue of always having to remember to never be anything less than pleasant, and to be really nice to everyone.
Then there’s the matter of not coming on too strong; not to mention having to remember to always pay attention and be polite when the other person speaks—and never put down their opinion. Even if they are a little mean, or rude, pretend not to notice—be even nicer to the ones like that.
Always look good. Dress right. Laugh right.
Always mention the deepness of my voice so that they know I know what or who I sound like already (thank you very much). Remember not to put myself down, so they don’t think I’ve got low self-respect, because then they would get low respect for me (even if I WAS just joking).
When getting high, always remember mom—AND HOW ANNOYING SHE CAN BE WHEN SHE IS HIGH—and engrave it into my brain NOT to act like that.
Make eye contact with everyone in the group, not just a few people. Don’t stare. Don’t talk too much.
Hide scars.
Don’t try to prove I know more about something than someone else (even if I do).
Don’t swear too much. Don’t spit. Stand up straight.
Talk to people (so I’m not mistaken for a snob) but don’t talk too loud. Don’t complain. Don’t ask too many questions, but don’t NOT ask questions, or they’ll think you’re not interested. Don’t brag. Don’t talk about myself too much.
Maybe I should use a defense mechanism? Maybe I should model myself after someone popular, and then when I get friends, slowly unveil my real personality?
No, I am incapable of doing that. I have too forceful a personality. I’ve just got to remember to exude only my good traits. I’m just too harsh, too dominant, contradictory, and too expressive. I just mean that EVEN AFTER I settle down, I’m still a little EXTRA EXPRESSIVE.
Dear Nobody,
Well, today was pretty fun (for the most part). I met up with some people I know from Reading. We got high and then we all went swimming. THEY all like me. After they left, I saw the people I always usually see down at the rope swing. They were drinking, and let me swig their Zima and vodka. I got pretty toasted. They were being nice, but there was one girl with them who seemed so unapproving of me—or maybe I’m just paranoid?
Oh, then these other cool guys were talking to me. I see them there a lot. Man, sometimes guys can be assholes when they get high. Just like flirting in stupid ways, which I try to ignore. Well, anyway, it was an okay time, even though I did come home feeling a little lonely. Mom went to her sister’s and I fell asleep. When I woke up, I listened to records—had my own private party—and then tried on some clothes, and now here I am. Guess I’ll go see what’s on HBO.
Dear Nobody,
Down at the rope swing last night, I was chilling with these people, they were smoking my pot, and I was drinking their beer (which they got kind of greedy with). We were all getting along okay, but there was that one girl from before, who opposed me being there—seeing as how she kept trying to embarrass me or make me look stupid (which is amplified when I’m fucked-up—so I’m perfectly capable of doing that on my own). Anyway, she kept getting smart with me, and I told her, straight up, that I didn’t even know her. She proceeded to humiliate me even more, and then she even dragged some of the boys into it. I was only trying to make them laugh, and defuse some of my ego. But that’s probably the problem, EGO—but if I had no ego, I’d never leave the house. Ego is all I pretend I’ve got, but I always tie it with humor. I don’t know, maybe that’s the problem? At this point all I’ve got is myself; and I think I may even be losing me.
Why doesn’t my fairy godmother come and rescue me?
Anyway, this bitch got a little jealous of me, and kept on it. Eventually she turned the whole group against me. She knew right where to hit me: “You came here ALONE? Don’t you have ANY friends by now?” By the time I left, they were all fucking with me—just saying stupid shit, about my voice and other things. Two guys who I barely know walked me home. I ended up missing what I wanted to watch on TV, but hey, my life’s a drama in itself.
I don’t know why this girl bothered me so much. What a BITCH. Maybe it’s just the area? Maybe the people around here are just RAISED to be extra cruel?
Dear Nobody,
Today was a cloudy, lonely day. I like it much better when the sun is out, and I get to swim. Maybe if I get a tan, I’ll look better—and maybe even get a boyfriend. But making new FEMALE friends is the hardest—guys don’t have territorial or jealousy issues with nameless, beautiful girls. If I got a “popular” boyfriend (with a car) he could take me to parties—and introduce me to other girls. I never appreciated how hard it is for quiet thinkers to be the new kid. I mean, I always welcomed new kids (that I approved of) to our group with respect and enthusiasm, more than anyone else did. I only wish the favor could be returned (karmically). Well, for now my lonely ass is going to watch 7TH HEAVEN.
Dear Nobody,
This guy, Mickey, wants me to come to his house to hear his band. He’s only fifteen, and he’s a cute little Aquarian, but not really boyfriend-material. Speaking of which, I heard from this girl, Adrienne (AFTER Mickey refused to have sex with her), that Mickey is hung-up on me. It may not even be true, but I’m so desperate and lonely—that I can’t help but hope that at least someone might be admiring and thinking of me.
Even if he is kind of a loser.
Dear Nobody,
I just woke up a little while ago. I’m calling my new friend, Adrienne, to go swimming again today. She’s okay, I guess, but I’m really hoping Jonathan will be there. People keep saying that Mickey really likes me, but I don’t think he’s all that hot (they do, I don’t). And besides, he’s a player—AND he doesn’t have a car.
Dear Nobody,
Last night my mom said Mickey called, but I still don’t want to go out with him—what if someone better comes along and they hear that I’ve got a boyfriend? I’m just really hoping for someone older—with a car. I don’t know; he’s fun to talk to, though. But I guess mostly I don’t want to lose Mickey’s friendship, especially since I’m kind of short on those. I told him to meet me at the rope swing tomorrow. He said okay. I hope he brings some people with him. I like being there when there’s lots of people; the more the merrier.
I LOVE the water. I love to be around all of those negative ions. I can derive power from its strength—it’s like a huge hug. When I am swallowed by its still grace, I feel like a human in the most original, natural way. I don’t feel like I am on this earth—I feel like I am actually a part of this earth. I swim and move, absorbing power from its ever-changing depths, and I think about all of the creatures, amoebas, insects and bacteria that inhabit this underwater world.
Today the water was clearer than the sky. The further I swam out, the less I could see below me. I could see nothing beyond the surface.
In its deepest, most condensed form, nothing can be seen.
Dear Nobody,
Today, that guy, Zack (that I sorta had a crush on) got landed on by a girl when she jumped off the rope swing. He’ll have some bruised ribs. Said it hurt a lot. I felt bad for him, but I don’t think I have a crush on him anymore. He’s a nice guy, but his personality doesn’t sparkle anymore.
Oh, and I saw that guy, Jonathan, that I smoked dust with (long ha
ir, white truck). He’s okay, but he doesn’t talk to me much. I still wouldn’t mind him for a boyfriend, though—but he doesn’t seem interested in me—especially in that way. I mean, I think I saw him looking at me today, but I feel stupid when I’m near him. Like he doesn’t approve of me or something. Maybe he’s how I used to be—quiet but friendly, and people confuse him for being a snob? Oh, one other thing is that I always get him fucked-up, and he hasn’t gotten me fucked-up once.
I’m not fucking anyone up anymore. Everyone here OWES me.
Dear Nobody,
Oh, did I happen to mention that Jonathon likes Andrew Lloyd Webber, and that he love JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR?
We listened to it in his truck today.
You know, I’m beginning to believe that there’s a good chance Jonathan could be a homosexual…
Dear Nobody,
Even though my mom promised this wouldn’t happen—Joe is back living with us. I can’t stand the mockery of a woman who I am told is my “mother.” Today she told me that she wanted to be with Joe and that if I didn’t like it—I should find another place to live. ANOTHER PLACE TO LIVE? I hate her for this. Hate is not a strong enough a word. Over her daughter, she chose a man—a man who beats her in front of her own children, who calls her a whore and a slut. I’m not sure which one of them is sicker? Is it her for taking him back again and again? Or Joe for the way he continues to abuse us?
How am I supposed to deal with this?
I am only human; I am not a force of nature, I am not an angel.
She says she’s going to marry him. I scorn her. She doesn’t care about me at all. I knew that the time mom and I spent together was too good to be true; it didn’t match my life. A mother that loves me? Has time for me? Cares about me? ME? A MOTHER? LOVE?
I am amazed at how much energy she has for him. How much love she gives him. After all she gives him, there’s none left for me. They gang up on me. They shame me for every one of their fights. They blame me for everything.
Tomorrow, mom and I are supposed to go to the movies together, but I bet we won’t. Joe probably won’t allow it.
Dear Nobody,
Today was a good day. Started out shakily, but couldn’t have ended better. Okay, first the cops came to our house because mom, Joe and I all got into a fight. It was like an episode of the Jerry Springer Show. Well, after the cops left, I went swimming. A lot of people were at the rope swing. Jonathan was there, but I don’t have a crush on him anymore—and this new guy I kinda like, Ryan, wasn’t there.
Well, it was a beautiful, sunny day. I have my period, and started to get a headache and tummy ache—and I turned to go home, but then changed my mind. I wanted to go home because I was pissed that Ryan wasn’t there, but then I felt better and turned back. And then after a little while, Ryan showed up! I was so happy—it was weird, like it made my whole day! So, I realized today that I’ve got a HUGE crush on him. Everyone said they saw Ryan looking at me, when I didn’t know it. He drives—and he is intelligent—all I need right there!
So I went ahead and told Adrienne and Mickey that I really like him. It is yet to be determined whether or not that was a good move. Probably. Besides, I DO like him! Well, anyway, Ryan can never stay long, so he left pretty early. After he left, we all walked to the Uni-mart and met up with a van full of Adrienne and Mickey’s friends. We went to Perkiomenville to this really cool place. It was a bridge with railroad tracks, and if you jumped off the bridge like forty feet, you land in the river. It was awesome.
I got to the ledge but never jumped. I was scared I wouldn’t jump out far enough—and hit myself on the rocks. So Adrienne and I waded in. It was SO warm. Unbelievably warm, like a bathtub—literally. I’ll never forget how warm it was. The water was even warmer than the air. Then we all went skinny-dipping. It was so fun. Another one of those really excellent days—I’ve had three so far. I wish summer would never end.
Dear Nobody,
I am starting to be pretty good friends with this one girl, Traci. We’ve gotten drunk together and she knows all the shit about me, but doesn’t care. Me and her have fun. I can be silly with her and just be really weird and she is right back. It’s cool. I have a feeling Traci is as loyal a friend as I am. I just wish she lived closer so we could hang out more.
Dear Nobody,
Last night I tried this new drug called, “Special K.” It’s an animal tranquilizer.
The color of the pills really appealed to me—a bright, electric pink. They reminded me of the birthday parties from when I was little. I always insisted on having bright electric pink balloons. I took all of the eight pills that this guy gave me and washed them down with a 40 ounce of malt liquor. The feeling was NOT what I expected. I didn’t feel drugged at all—even though I did feel different. I felt half asleep, half awake.
Whenever I stood up, my knees would go weak and my stomach got that feeling it gets when an elevator suddenly drops.
After a while I started to feel “the stupors.” It was harder to remember what my reverie had even been about. I finally started to feel awake and I tried to go to sleep. But I think it was only my mind that felt awake and content—floating like a fallen leaf into one thought, then onto another one—listlessly. My body felt paralyzed—like it does when you wake too suddenly from a dream and you can’t move your arm for a few seconds.
After every revelation the room started spinning around with increased velocity. I just lay in bed watching everything spin, unable to concentrate on any single thought. Then I began to see things.
I was staring into the blank television screen and saw a girl speaking sign language so fast it would have been near impossible for anyone to understand. I turned my head away from the hallucination and saw what looked like the silhouette of a tall, lean man opening and closing a door—I looked as closely as I could from where I lay, and tried to tell him to leave.
“Leave me alone,” I said. “Please leave me alone.”
I was getting scared, seeing a man in my house that I didn’t know. At one point I even tried to scream—but I felt so weak that I was having trouble breathing. Every time I caught my breath, I would release it with a sigh. The image of the man finally disappeared, but I kept seeing other things from the corner of my eye. Cats and mice would run across the room. If I stared at an object long enough—the object would begin to smoke. The carpet—WHOOSH, up in flames. My pillow. My dresser. There was fire everywhere. At one point, I thought I saw a snake sliding underneath the carpet. Then everything started to blur together into one big landslide of fuzz.
I kept getting up and leaving the room and then forgetting why I got up in the first place. Then really creepy shit started happening. From the far-off distance I could hear the faint sound of unfamiliar voices—then the room began to spin again and I rolled my head over to the opposite side of the bed facing the curtains. In the curtains I saw a face form under the cloth; then I saw an outline of a body emerge in the fabric. It seemed to be fighting to get through the curtain. In less than a minute that image faded away and the room went back to spinning.
I spent the next two hours trying to will myself to sleep. I tried counting sheep; I tried counting back from one hundred, spelling out the numbers in my head like they were mathematical figures on a chalkboard. Nothing worked. My thoughts kept fighting with each other. It was like good and evil having a battle.
“Stay up!”
“Go to sleep!”
“Don’t listen to HER, don’t be a baby, you have to stay up—think of all the incredible ideas and thoughts you are having, do you really want to miss them?
“If you don’t go to sleep you will die.”
I just laid there letting my two parts fight it out with each other. The sun was coming up when I finally passed out.
Dear Nobody,
I’ve been hanging out with Traci a lot—she’s so great. We do heroin together and get int
o a lot of trouble—but it’s FUN trouble. Kinda. Yeah, I’ve been doing more drugs lately—but only in moderation.
Dear Nobody,
So I was really drunk and high the other day walking around with Traci. She wasn’t as drunk as I was (no one ever is) and I was very drunk. And high. VERY HIGH.
We saw these guys at a gas station and asked if they’d give us a ride further downtown (so we could buy some pot). We rode around for a while. One was very hot. Turns out they went to Traci’s school. Anyway, they dropped us off by my house because I wanted (needed) that big bottle of brandy I had hiding in my closet.
I ran into the house and much to my surprise and dismay, my mom was already home from work. As soon as she saw me, she knew I was drunk. She tried to block me (I can’t remember this; it’s what she told me later) but I pushed past her and ran out of the house. After I left, mom called my probation officer and told him that I was drunk again and had just left the house without permission.
Meanwhile, Traci and I were walking (crawling) along Market Street in broad daylight. There was a two-lane highway on the side and we tried to cross it—Traci got across it fine, but I kept falling over. Cars were beeping their horns and swerving all around me. A cop in a parking lot across the street called out to me and asked me if I was okay and if I could stand up.
Dear Nobody Page 3
