Me Never Being

Thought about dragging the TV the big one I promised to get rid of (and then never did anything about) into my room and hooking up the sega genesis. One last time. And having a night like I would as a kid, playing video games. I had been to the video game store and I am going to try to sell the sega and the nintendo and all the games etc. and it made me nostalgic. But I haven't played them in years. I still have a gameboy.

I had two glasses of wine at the Howl gallery space, which used to be the La MAMA Galleria. I was there for the closing of the Lydia Lunch show So Real It Hurts. She performed her spoken word piece Conspiracy Of Women which has just been reissued.

I remember looking high and low and eventually finding a copy of the original CD in the late 90s, when i was first getting into Lydia Lunch. This is amazing, she was and is amazing. It was literally a trip to see her perform this work, in 2015, in a gallery on the Bowery, for free. It was sort of updated, of course. The list of occupations, wars, genocides, terrorism and atrocities has grown. At one point she was talking about pop stars Courtney Love or Madonna or wait-- and then she pointed to herself and said "I'm Lady Gaza. Get it?"

This is an example of an increasingly rare experience I've been having where I think "I am so glad I live in New York. This is totally worth it." Because I got to see Lydia Lunch perform a mindblowing set for free on a Friday evening and get drunk for free it was fantastic. All I had to do was sacrifice my sanity, my youth, my future and my memory for ten years hacking it out here but it was worth it as it so rarely is, increasingly rarely. But still meaningful.

Anyway I sat next to Stephen who used to run QxBxRx, it was nice to catch up. The performance was amazing. Lydia Lunch is truly like Cher to me or like David Bowie or Judy Garland. I mean I'm into any of those people, but the way people worship some artists or celebrities as icons, I feel about Lydia Lunch and have for a long time.

When i turned 17 i was so upset because I thought: I'm washed up. By this time Lydia Lunch had already started Teenage Jesus and I haven't done anything.

You know who else worshiped Lydia Lunch apparently is Courtney Love. But lots of people did. She is iconic. I mean she does have what she said the devil (who is certainly a woman) blessed her with: "a celestial body and the face of an angel." I realized how influential this piece was to me, seeing it tonight. The way she talked about the Big Bang, and how violence and chaos is the nature of the universe. At another point she said "Y'know I hate fuckin' God. Because God was the first cop. God was the first cock." The way she used sarcasm but not necessarily for humor. It wasn't about applause. She did not like the applause. Right after the show she grabbed her purse, headed over to the merch table and lit a cigarette and started hawking CDs and posing for photos. I met a friend of Stephen's who was saying that when he saw her perform it originally in 1990 he felt like he immediately wanted to know everything about her work. She's incredibly charismatic. She's cute yes. But she's also compelling. She's hyper-verbal and confrontational but not in a way that's, like, mean spirited? She's hostile, sure. She talked about that she said "Hostile?! You have no FUCKING idea. NONE." Walking away from the microphone, in front of it (out of the light) and into the audience. I think so much performance art in theater and music and whatever kind of came through this, either directly or indirectly. She's in this weird position. She's outlived the thing, she can remember it. She makes these connections. It was scintillating. It's no secret that I have not been feeling very good lately but this was really heartening and made me feel a bit better.

I came home and watched Lovelace because of Vogue magazine. I got a basically free subscription through the reward points my corporate bank "gives" me, and this month Amanda Seyfried was on the cover. The artocle talks about how the really great serious actress moment of Seyfried's career, so far, was Lovelace, but people didn't see the film when it was in theaters. It's actually pretty great. Seyfried is fantastic, Sharon Stone is wonderful as she is at literally everything. And who else is in the film, playing a slightly older, sad wizened porn actress? Debi Mazar.

Just saw one of the mosquitoes flying around my room, one of the big ones that bit me so many times Friday night. I think, like, 8-9 different bites. Terribly painful. I woke up swollen, rummaged through my nightstand for antihistamine gel and put it on. IN the morning there were just tiny little bite marks. Hard like pimples. All over my body. But still I slept for 11 hours on Friday night. The mosquitoes ere silent. The one I saw this morning was silent too. Big and red and quiet.

Out of my window I saw a teenage boy get arrested across the street. The cops were handcuffing him and his friends he was with kept asking something like where's the weed though? The cops have been on the corner all weekend. Last night when I was going to the city I saw a pair of white people painting a mural on the chicken shop. I wonder.

I went to a bunch of art openings, and they were pretty okay but nothing too special to write home about. I want things to be better. The Kim Gordon show at 303 Gallery is great. The group show at Rachel Uffner is fantastic, go to those.

I feel like I am a crazy person. Sometimes (like today) it's not so bad. It just feels like a dull ache of dysfunction. Other times it feels very hot and urgent.
And shameful.

I don't know what's wrong with me. How every thing keeps stimulating this nerve, the nerve that reminds me how worthless I am, how horrible, how unlovable, how fundamentally shitty and bad and deserving of pain and punishment I am. I can't map it out -- I don't know what this is about, where it came from, how to assess it or change it. My analyst asked, last week, if I was in pain. I said yes. He said are you in pain right now? I said yes of course. He asked what it felt like.

How, dear reader, do you describe emotional pain? How do you describe emotional pain if nothing even happened?
Isn't loneliness a kind of pain? Isn't boredom a kind of pain? I'm not lonely or bored, per se. I feel very excited and hurt and taut. I told my analyst it feels like I have a fever, like I am on fire. If feels like I am caught in a vise and something has to happen yet I know there is nothing that can happen, so I feel as if I am just stuck in this painful position. My analyst said "Why do I have the feeling that you've been abused?" I can't answer that question. I don't feel abused, I said as much. I said if anyone is abusing me it's me because I'm the one who knows, deep down, how much I deserve the abuse. My analyst said maybe, but it seems like I've been dealing with someone else's abuse. That doesn't make any sense to me.

Then we talked about how embarrassed I am. How I let the crazy out on Twitter and someone got upset and told me to get off line. I think they were trying to be helpful but all it did was make me feel like I'm an idiot for being in pain to begin with. Not only am I deserving of pain, but I can't talk about it because it annoys people and just makes people hate me. Everything is an opportunity for an indictment. Everything is another example of me not being enough, of me being too much. Me being wrong. Me never being right. Me being no one's favorite. Me being no one's pick. Me guilting people into love. Me tricking people into putting up with me, but only for a time. Eventually every body will come to hate me as much as I hate myself. Almost as much-- I'm better at it than everyone else because I have more practice.

After therapy Brontez came over and he brought me a rose which was very sweet. We hung out a bit. Friday I saw Lydia and came home and slept for longer than I usually do. Saturday I hung out with Markey for a bit at the Brooklyn Museum then went to Gag at Metropolitan. Cute boys don't care. I don't blame them. Sunday I went to my group meeting and felt like a loser afresh, did some errands and slept early again. Watched bad TV. Bad books.

I don't know how to wait anything out. Can't something change? Why does everything feel so painful and exclusive and mostly fresh. How can I be so naive, still. Why does it still feel like the first time when I get rejected, ignored, slighted. I have no sense of myself. I have nothing to fall back on. It's not "I don't care if you don't like me because I like me." I don't know that. I don't know or believe that I am worthy. I feel that I have nothing to offer. No ideas. No art. No Magic. Nothing.

No comments: