Nine — January 2015

Fucked up dream FUCKED UP it was incredibly real and its got me on edge.

I had a girl I used to know (we weren’t friends and we weren’t enemies, it was just one of those random people) attack me in my old family home, I was in the bathroom (emotional release) and she came out of nowhere, pounced on me from behind, nails out. I fight back, swinging and shit but then my Dad shows up and he beats her off me till she passes out (I remember thinking “he can’t kill her because it will look like we tried to murder her’‘everything was just so technical), then we get out of the house, shout for everyone else to as well. I’m in the street calling the police and I can BARELY hear them on the other end. After awhile I realize Ginny is still in her room and I scream for her to jump out the window and magically I can reach it (second story) and pull her from the house. I call up the cops again and they say they aren’t interested and won’t be coming, I begin to cry and freak out.

UGH shot to the heart the night before I had this long dream about Grey, I was at his families house and some other girl was there, he was paying no attention to her, only me which I appreciated. We did a bunch of things I can’t remember but at the end he goes ‘you know I wrote in your journal, the last page’ in the dream I race to my journal and start flipping through the pages, just as he’s about to tell me what he wrote I wake up JDLAJLFDJ;LAJFL;DJA;LFJ;LAJJA;J; upon waking I actually raced to it and searched, nothing, nothing at all. Sad times.

Grey dream aside, what the fuck is up with these attacking dreams, dialing 911 in your dream is NOT a good sign and I dialed that number several times to no avail. I’m reading I’m supposed to know when to ask for help…but at the moment I’m good. Yes its a little stressful living day to day but I’ve got a fat bank account right now, I’m loving this 88euro a night hotel I’m staying in–I know I should look for a cheaper place to stay but I’m so fucking comfortable. I asked for discount rates if I were to stay here for three months and they gave me 65euros a night if I pay upfront each week. NOT BAD but really I need to go somewhere else, I actually haven’t spent any of the $3000 in my account — except for that one 250$ bill that was taken out.

The room cleaning dude is tripping, he looks about sixteen (little Indian kid, he’s shorter than me too) and I guess took my tipping him the wrong way? Showed up at my room with a full on wrapped present, little snow globe of Paris which I thought was so sweet, he wanted to know if I have a facebook, foolishly I add him, (now he’s sending me all these messages, haven’t answered shit) and then asked if he could take me to the Eiffel Tower, no dude I’m working (I’ve decided not to give a fuck and anyone here who asks what I do, I say I’m a dancer (french equivalent for stripper), I’m much better dealing with what strangers think of me rather than family), then he asks if he can kiss me. Fucking hell, just because I’m giving you euros every time you come to my room does not mean I want you little boy, I’d like to leave just to get away from him, unfriend him online. So passive aggressive haha. I am contemplating just staying here till I leave…did the math, I could afford it but it would be smarter just to go somewhere a bit cheaper and keep my distance from the staff haha. I’m staying in this area though, buying a ticket on the metro was expensive and complicated the one time I rode it, no interest in taking a train when already its a hassle to walk to a job at a certain hour, fuck factoring in train times.

Yesterday was very interesting, well it began the night I got my Indian food, I went on a long walk first looking for the Eiffel Tower (it was night) and went in all sorts of wrong directions, I climbed this massive set of stairs, MASSIVE and find myself staring at this gorgeous city, the Eiffel gleaming like DIAMOND GOLD, so humbling to be here. I’VE WANTED TO LIVE HERE ALL MY LIFE, I have school work I wrote back in sixth grade, saying I was going to live in Paris, I’M LIVING IN PARIS, my gods its an incredible feeling. Anyway I’m all over the city, can’t find the fucking restaurant to save my life, then I realize theres a thing called TAXI’S and I’ve got money to pay for one. WHAT A CONCEPT! Haha I hailed a few cabs that flew by me, realized the red lights mean full, green means empty, wild concept. I get into this cab and randomly the driver asks me about writing, I say I’m a writer an

— — Jesus Christ I’m talking to Marley, sending two grand next week, wants me to stay in this hotel, fucking fucking fucking unbelievable that man. Shit I may just get an phone now, haha I feel embarrassed to take out my actual camera to take pictures, feels so ancient. Damn I’ll have $5000 dollars in my account and no pressing bills to pay LUXURY PURE LUXURY. Yeah it would be nice to snap a picture and just post it online instead of going through the whole kit and kaboodle with a computer and cords and shit. I know my family would love it, and I could be like Beth:) with all her spontaneous traveling pictures — — — -

….and then he asks me if I like Bukowski, I LOVE Bukowski, he’s the first poet I read that made me want to be a full on poet and not just writing stories. I hated poetry pretty much all my life (my writing progressed into poetry, wanted to make each word of my short stories beautiful) almost up until finding him, Grey introduced him to me, first poet I just FELL for…second being Kate Tempest ❤. We write completely differently but hold the same values, fuck that rhyming bullshit, counting eighteen syllables, alliterate this and that but not this and forget that, its all so contrived. DON’T TRY TOO HARD don’t try too hard. Anyway I start going on and on about him, he says he’s making a film about him and wants to interview me for it haha. I’m like ‘sure!’ give him my facebook, he never charged me for the taxi ride either :) Two days later (yesterday) he’s picking me up at the hotel and we’re on our way to his professors house which is out of Paris. He’s a nice guy, originally from Iraq I believe, Capricorn (and I swear I could kind of tell, guessed it (internally) correctly for the first time ever). I’m not into him at all, and fuck I hope he doesn’t think I’m interested, I told him I had a boyfriend and work seven days a week haha. He’s 34 and very nice though, not creepy and a musician! He just graduated from school as well, said I was his last taxi customer haha. We’re chatting, when he drove out of Paris I was a little nervous like, ‘what the fuck am I doing?!’, we get to his professors (ZuZi, he’s from Tunisia) house and immediately I’m calmed down, it reminded me a lot of my old Professor’s house/office, STOCKED with a million books and just shit everywhere in the best sense of the word. He’s a very old, frail man but looks super intelligent, fuck…..I forget the name of the film but I’m sure some of you have seen it, the one where all the women in the world can’t get pregnant (Julianne Moore is in it, maybe Brad Pitt) but then one gets pregnant and its a miracle despite the world being in turmoil…theres an old dude in the movie, who plays in a million movies, old dude, very wise in the film, ends up killed because he won’t say where his son is, he smokes a shitton of pot and takes care of his wife who can’t talk/react to anything. Lolol THATS who he reminded me of. He asked me my name and when I said ‘Melissa’ (lol almost said Veeohlett haha) he goes ‘ah, its greek, honeybee’ and then dissects my entire name lol, then in Calligraphy he writes my name on this Tunisia postcard.

We stayed there a bit, filmed me answering a few questions about Bukowski, when I was asked about what and why I write I cried a little bit, it ALWAYS happens, ALWAYS, writing is the most special thing in the world to me, I could never live my life without it. The dudes family comes in, young cute wife (I later found out she used to be his student (scandalous!) and now has a boyfriend which gave poor ZuZi a ‘catastrophe’) and two kids, a girl and a HOT boy holy shit, I perked up right away when he entered the room. GOOD LOOKING dude, I wanted him immediately haha.

We left after a little while to go to a cafè and finish the interview there, the hot son came with us because he needed a ride into Paris, we both sat in the back and talked a bit, he’s about to go on some expedition that involves sled dogs across the tundra haha, wild family. Fuck I almost just threw him my facebook add, told myself to calm down though and he left to get his arctic coat. We go to this cafe close to Notre Dame, it was this OLD restaurant with original walls and shit, I got this taboule platter which was really good (guacamole, olive tapanade, salad, vegetables….the peppers in France are outstanding) and Peter (thats the taxi dudes name) ordered me a split pea soup as well because he couldn’t stop raving about it and made sure it was vegan from the server. I scavenged it all, (was SO hungry yesterday) and he laughed, said it was hard to believe I wasn’t fat coming from America haha. After he ordered us this fancy tea which tasted amazing, they served it in this really authentic looking kettle with fancy shot glasses for drinking. He also got this little nut cake that again, he grilled the server on its ingredients — I protested that I don’t like dessert but he made me try it and FUCK, SO FUCKING TASTY, not overly sweet, just fucking amazing. I have to remember to try new foods, I get stuck in my little organic/vegan/whatfuckingchemicalsareinthis?! bubble. Zuzi did hand me a bit of his food that looked like it was on top of a Dorito and I ate the damn thing, blast. I never want to insult people and he’s old as fuck, definitely would have bothered him if I turned my nose up at that bullshit. Over the tea and cake we finished the interview, it got slightly heated haha, I had to tell Peter I wasn’t mad! Just emphatically disagreeing with him, he said Bukowski only wrote for women’s affections. HELL NO HE DIDN’T and Zuzi agreed with me. It all was a lot of fun, felt very intellectual debating Bukowski in this little Parisian cafe (with vegan choices! hooray!!). They both were shocked when I took out my money to pay my share and Peter paid for the lot, said the staff would probably say something to them if I had paid for my own haha. So old fashioned but hey, I’m up for a free meal, a fucking delicious meal as well :)

I fell asleep on the way back to Zuzi’s haha, was worn out–that morning I had woken to Peter’s message and he explained he’d be at my place in twenty. Had worked the night before so I was kind of spent but didn’t want to cancel.He woke me when Zuzi left, I movedin the front while he drove me back to the city and we debated some more, this time about money. He doesn’t believe in money, says ‘especially for an artist like you, you should only make enough to survive’. Lol I’ve been surviving off small amounts of money all my life….that I worked fucking hard for. I’m tired of that shit, I want to make enough to pay for me to travel the world in STYLE, pay all my parents bills, my family’s bills, anyone on the streets bills haha; I never want to worry about money again and I’ll do it through my writing. Too much to ask for?! Fuck it I’ll make it happen. WATCH ME.

Speaking of which (do me a favor and don’t comment on this shit, its weird enough to write about, its just becoming such a daily occurrence in my life I want to document it) the homeless population here I’ve found very surprising, they are pretty much everywhere, a lot like Manhattan but a lot of the times I’m seeing women with children, multiple children on the street. I have a strong aversion to them, which I guess is fucked up but whatever, thats my intuition. Children should not be asking for money while Mom sits and holds her newborn, that kid is being exploited because he’s young and adorable and really, I want nothing to do with that. She should be fucking ashamed of what she’s doing, put him in a shelter, let him chill while you get off your ass and ask if thats what you want him to do. Its DISGUSTING. I’d probably throw myself off a bridge if I was pregnant and couldn’t get rid of it being homeless/destitute. I’d eat my arm before I had my offspring begging for money at…six years old? seven? FUCKING PITIFUL. Whatever, thats not the point. I pass a lot of homeless people everywhere I go here and lately I’ve taken to just buying a shitton of food and giving it out to them (not the slave kids, not the moms on their asses). I’m not stingy, if its late and I have to go to a bodega I’ll get non vegan food and pass that out, BIG beers, you enjoy yourself dude, fuck knows I’d want to be drunk if I had no place to go on a COLD night. There’s this dude (Alex I think) who sits by one of the grocery stores I go to, he’s very good looking, maybe in his thirties or early forties, he speaks a bit of English as well. He’s my favorite, I give him the most haha. This isn’t a new thing for me, I did this a lot in Manhattan as well, pick someone off the street and go to restaurant together or let them grab whatever they want in a food store or something. Or just cash, whatever (I don’t mind if they run and buy crack, WHATEVER MAKES YOU HAPPY fuck knows I’ve chosen weed over food when I was broke and living in Harlem, thats what I wanted, let THEM choose). Once in Manhattan there was this kid who had a sign that said ‘I’m waiting for a miracle’ I stopped took him out for lunch, asked if he’d mind telling me what the miracle he needed was, explained his backpack was stolen, that he needed a particular one to get wherever he was going (heartbreak</3 a miracle in a backpack) ’ we went to two stores and took a taxi before we found the exact backpack he needed, this big expensive military one, he was over the moon upon receiving it. I didn’t have as much money in Manhattan as I do now but fuck I’ll probably buy Alex whatever he wants. I don’t believe in giving to organizations or charities, that shit goes nowhere. This is my own version of giving back. Part of me wants to invite him back and let him shower or something but I’m alone, lets not go overboard and land yourself in a potentially scary situation. Food? Drinks? Backpacks? Whatever dude, thats cool with me.

Peter drops me off, drama free–only a few flirty messages through facebook. He’s got a fiancè in New York that he ‘doesn’t think he’s going to marry’ lol. Men here are SO on it, I’m just going to start telling unappealing men my ‘boyfriend’ is staying with me.

Tonight I’m working (took off yesterday haha, wanted to make sure I had enough time for the interview) and looking forward to it, I have to run and get some food now so I can eat and chill before eight.