Anthony at the sea.

"Its a tight grip."

"What is?"

"Some of my friends have this damn tight grip on their life. You can see it in their face when I'm sitting with them."

"Where?"

"I don't know anywhere."

"Here?"

"I don't come here."

"Ok."

"They are sitting there, trying to relax but instead going back and forth from victim to hood. They have this fucking white knuckle grip on their life that has their heart beating so fast. They look frazzled and distant. They look disheveled and spacey and can't see it."

"I know disheveled."

"I should be a mirror."

"What?"

"I feel like I'm sitting on rocks at rough fucking seas. I can see the possibilities of calmness though. In my mind I can feel the serenity, but right now the shit is lapping, it's getting on my pant legs."

"What is it again?"

"It's this grip. They have to let go of."

"They don't have to do anything."

"No, they don't have to do anything.

"Right."

"Depending on what's currently going on in their lives their grip is the cause of it. That tight anxiety filled grip."

"Whatever is needed, it is arising spontaneously to meet whatever the needs of the moment are."

mooji

Slowie doesn't want your life.

"I don't want their lives."

"What?"

"I just don't want their lives."

"Ok."

"I just found that I listened to a whole lot of bullshit just to get to what I wanted--that sensation. That fucking orgasm. I listened to their damn politics and religion and other shit, just so I could feel good. And you know what?"

"I can't say that I do."

"When I finally snapped out of it. When I was finally done with my desire for them, or their shit became so overwhelming I found I didn't like their life. I wasn't comparable to them. I didn't like their toilet paper from CVS or that book bag they carried or the way they sat or walked."

"Your down in the marrow."

"I found that our entire interaction was based my addiction to feeling fucking good. It was like the only one hearing the dog whistle."

"Dog does come into play."

"What?"

"But your transient though, right?"

"Yeah, I like to come and go. But not when I want to play the game of a relationship. Not when I want to be somewhat serious. Not when I want to pretend that I have a boyfriend when my friends are around or I need someone on my arm for the season. I want that to be someone that is a little more. But I see that is a rouse. I see it again comes down to my addiction to feeling fucking good. Like peanut brittle on a Saturday afternoon."

"You don't eat that."

"I do."

"Sir Francis from Dean & Deluca?"

"Judy's"

"Ok."

"I don't want their lives because they belong to someone else. I could've figured this out early on but I didn't give a shit in the beginning of the relationship."

"Because you were addicted to feeling fucking good."

"Yeah. I was."

William is now free of contradictions.

"There are so many contradictions when I get out of the now."

"The what?"

"The now. The moments before you start driving that life bus."

"Right, ok."

"You don't know what I'm talking about."

"I do."

"God, I can make some statement about what I don't like or do like at 8 in the morning that turns into the direct opposite by 1 pm. I am constantly unsure throughout the day. It's insanity and based on the next commercial I see."

"Commercial?"

"Just showing how easily a so called philosophy can change."

"I guess."

"You don't know what I'm talking about."

"I do."

"Even those who are stubborn. People who like to give off that 'they are the same assholes for years', but in their head their philosophy is changing, but because they fear what people will think--the perception of others, they play the tape of their usual behavior. They are generally trapped."

"Maybe so."

"The trick is realizing that your fucked up. Your insane. You're a freeway full of daily contradictions, and the direction you get right now saves you."

William is out on that road.

"I just think with everything that's goin' on people just need a hug."

"What?"

"What do you mean what?"

"I don't know."

"I see people as a little lonely."

"Little?"

"I feel everything we are doing is looking for some sort of connection, no matter how distant it first seems."

"What do you mean?"

"Especially those that are wrapped up in their work, those who have used the pursuit of knowledge as a ruse. I just can't help but think that. I just see it."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I just think a lot of people are sad. They know what they are looking for, but they just don't have a clue about the means. It's like they are driving without a map."

"Are you talking about yourself?"

"I am in a way. Least I'm aware of it I guess. Least I'm aware that I have been painfully confused. Lost in the stink of life, all while looking for just a little something beautiful. Just a little till it can turn into something bigger. Everything that I do is looking for acceptance. Looking to be back at what's finally familiar."

"Nothing here is familiar?"

"Nothing. Only when something on the outside sparks me in the right direction on the inside."

"Right."

"Connecting. Finally connecting is what a million different directions is doing just looking for one."

William is afraid.

"Only go with what's moving"

"What?"

"I got to go with what is moving on its own in my life. I cant try building cities."

"I think it would be tough to build a city."

"I only want to serve what's moving. I don't give a shit if it's negative. If it it is the only thing raising its hand in my life I want to give it attention."

"Negative?"

"Well if it is negative giving it attention--not ignoring it-- will eventually make it positive anyway."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm serious."

"OK."

"I'm tired of trying to create stuff. Scared of what pops up."

"What pops up?"

"Stuff. Things on their own. Anything that opens up in my life on it's own should be what gets all of my attention."

"What about the ladies?"

"What?"

"Nothin'"

"What?"

"So things in your life moves on it's own?"

"Yes. You can't hear it because you are afraid of the silence. You got to build as a distraction. You have to run out and create a diversion."

"I'm not afraid."

"I am. I'm afraid to act on my own. I will only serve what comes up."

"Ok."

"Then I can be absolutely sure."

Anthony is in charge.

"Goddamn."

"What?"

"My success inside a relationship is based on how honest I am."

"To me that is a rumor."

"Ah it's the truth."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"What does it mean?"

"It means I am in charge with how successful my relationship is going to be based on how honest and transparent I become. Increasing it means success."

"I will have to think about that."

"What?"

"Because it sounds like crazy talk. The kind of shit that will get your ass killed around here."

"I'm in charge of my own happiness. What more can I say."

"Ok."

"I have to be forthcoming. There are no books to read or no workshops to attend. I have to come clean and things will improve immensely."

"Like it's possible."

"It's possible."

You are drawn to people who give you an opportunity to play out a role that has value for you. It may be comfortable or uncomfortable, but it’s a role you value. You avoid people when you find yourself falling into a role you don’t want to play anymore. And you “outgrow” a relationship when you no longer want to play the role or roles you play in that relationship. In ego, there is no way to avoid the past.

William invites the uneasy in for lunch.

"I like looking for the uneasy. I invite it in."

"In your food?"

"No. When something makes me quaver; when something makes me uncomfortable I try not to spend time looking for ways to distract myself from it. I am almost initially exicited about the answer that could be hidden in it."

"Even though it is making you uncomfortable?"

"Yes."

"OK."

"It's like a clue."

"A clue?"

"Yes a clue. Can't you see that?"

"What?"

"What makes you uncomfortable is a clue that maybe you need to look at it closer."

"At solving it."

"Yes."

"OK."

"But you run out of it, don't you?"

"I work the problem."

"You resolve it right?"

"I get it resolved."

"You quickly move it out of your way. You through money at it, you make calls. You get through it with your ears and eyes closed."

"I do."

"I look at it. I stop and know that it is much more important than running through it."

"You're special arn't you?"

"I'm not."

"You are and it's not just your hat."

"The things that rise up and make me directly uncomfortable just gets me a little excited, you know?"

"Like cheveux noirs et courts."

"I feel special."

"I knew it."

"I feel like this is just for me. I look at how my heart is beating. This is just for me. How I handle it, how I calmly digest it, it turns into nothing terrible but something much more enjoyable."

"Huh?"

"What's uncomfortable, becomes much more rewarding if I just invite it in."

"Good afternoon."

Slowie doesn't want victimization by Hasbro.

"I struggle when all of my toys are taken away."

"What do you mean?"

"You always ask that."

"Yeah."

"I'm just like you who loves to marinate--bask, rather in victimization. I want to use it at a drop of a hat to further conceptualize my need for attention during someone else s need for clarity in a moment."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Of course I could be doing the same thing--at said moment, then we could easily cancel each other out."

"Well yeah, that is the case in all of my relationships, but what happens when you are aware of this while it is going on?"

"You bury it like a good Lutheran."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I don't have anything else to do."

"Huh?"

"Self mutilation is my only past time."

"Harakiri. Yes. It is what brings all the boys to the yard. I play the victimization card because I like reminding people that I'm valuable. If they buy into my performance it can add fucked up years to an already fucked up relationship. Of course this is if I can't accuse someone of something either passively or with super strength. But I do use victimization as a last resort."

"I'm thinking you should stop talking."

"Yeah. Maybe. So I can see that you hate me...you hate me right? You're right I'm all fucked up. I don't know what's going on with me, I'm sorry."

"I don't hate you. I mean ...oh whatever."

"What?"

"You will struggle like me when you take away all of your little toys."

"We really don't know who people are, what things and situations are for, why we are here or how to correct things. Truly a great gift is the humility to say and mean, 'I wish to be comfortable with not knowing.' The second we surrender our limited experience of knowing, we are instantly relieved of our burden."

William doesn't like his personal space.

"I don't know what space is for."

"What?"

"Space."

"You mean final frontier space?"

"No. I mean when I needed it in my life."

"Time to yourself?"

"I tried to protect it vehemently. I created relationships around it."

"What do you mean?"

"By making sure the relationships I had were in conjunction with the 'need for space' mentality."

"What?"

"People who needed space as well."

"I'm spacing out."

"What?"

"That shit is only natural that people will need down time."

"Sure, but this shit can not be architected. What I discovered is that, this is already built into relationships where you seemingly have no space."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying it."

"I don't think so."

"Space or down time is mythological. The whole relationship is your life; the space or down time I found wasn't as valuable as I thought. I wasn't really protecting anything that was productive. In most cases I sat around holding an empty block of time just for the principle of it."

"You don't just go to the museum by yourself huh?"

"Like you go to the museum."

"Well."

"You're always here."

"You're right. I'm just sayin'."

"Alone time allows me to get a better perspective on what is happening in my life, even if it's walking through the museum or taking a personal trip. But what I'm saying is it should not be cordoned off. It should not be considered a personal life within a personal life. There are no personal lives. You have one life, and you open yourself to allow the light of this life and all of its experiences to shine everywhere. Your down time is there to boost further commitment to the fact that all your life is a cabaret. All of it is open to interpretation."

"I like eating here alone."

"I know you do, and it has served us well."

One of the fastest ways to surrender is to accept reality as it presents itself--not to deny or resist it, because if we do, we are in conflict with ourselves and the Unified Will. We waste so much energy on defending, denying, and resisting What Is. Instead we could soften our resistance and invite the situation to teach us and lead us to what we really want. Any challenge we perceive is purely a vehicle to learn more about who we are and about our Purpose.

William wants to control everything from right here.

"I want to control everything from right here."

"You mean these calories?"

"No."

"You were looking at your plate."

"I wasn't."

"OK."

"I'm doing so much. I'm holding so many things together."

"What?"

"I'm working my life."

"Doesn't that make sense?"

"What?"

"You act as if....I don't know..."

"I'm supposed to work it."

"Yeah."

"Is there anything wrong with trying to figure out what the hell is going on? Or how I can get it right?"

"Get what right?"

"This life. How can I make it work."

"It's working. You have a roof over your head....you have almost all of your teeth."

"It's not working. Don't for one moment think this life is working, there is anguish in people's lives. There is pain. There is tons of uncertainty."

"I can guess that."

"I feel like it's only working because I have to work it."

"That's the point."

"It's a working that's grimy, bemired. You know? It's a working that just pays the interest, never the principle. A totally useless kind of living."

"You act as if there is a plan B. Well I guess you could go live on a mountain and count birds."

"That's not a plan B. That's more of the same if I'm not attracted to it. I'm attracted to being here."

"With me today."

"Right. I have to figure it out here."

"Figure what out?"

"Have you been listening? You don't have to do anything but sit there and wait for your warm glass of milk. I'm talking about me. This isn't enough. Paying the interest, paying with malaise. I want to control things from the already. From right here I'm not working. From here I control the results. I'm driving."

"You are insane."

"Yeah, but do you know for sure that you're not."

"Maybe, but least I got more friends."

William wants to say something from a better place.

"She needs projection as comfort."

"What?"

"She needs you to complain, interrogate. She needs you to be more than irritated for her to feel at home."

"I don't think that's the case."

"It's the case. Being contemplative, accountable about your thoughts is just not right for her. She needs a left hook with words as if it was her favorite blanket that she curled up on the couch with."

"You can't be serious."

"I can be."

"OK."

"It doubles for compassion. It is like touch. It is how people see."

"See what?"

"Well it allows people to get from one moment to next. It can be a tiny comfort till they get to the next painful moment."

"What do you think?"

"I don't want to throw a fucked up life preserver. I want to hold my assault. I want to wait till I make sense."

"This will piss people off."

"What?"

"That quiet."

"I want to wait till I am inspired to be more compassionate in thought. What I say has to come from a better place."

"Is it that easy?"

"No. It's easier to throw out the fucked up life preserver. The one with holes in it. The one that floats you off towards the next fucked up situation."

"OK."

"I just want what I have to say to come from a better place."

William is looking for the hard way out.

"I figure that trying to put it together is the problem."

"What?"

"Putting it all together."

"Putting what together?"

"That thing."

"What?"

"These pieces do not go together. Least they don't go together perfectly--nowhere near perfect, matter of fact. They finally fit together like round pegs in square holes and then it somehow works without your help at all."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well our job is to stay out of the way. That is doing something, now that I think about it."

"What?"

"I'm talking about what goes on in our life. It seems to be floating all around me, like huge pieces of a puzzles that seem to automatically get me involved in trying to piece them together."

"Makes sense."

"You know what's interesting? The pieces all fit. They all join, but that's the fucking problem, they are not suppose to. Chaos is really what's there, and needs to be navigated by you not trying to piece it together. Your effort fucks it up."

"That makes sense."

"It does?"

"No."

"I feel set up when I go back in there and try working a so called problem in my day. I do my thing of thinking about something, sizing up the problem and reaching a resolution that will allow me to be comfortable for a few hours until something else bothers me, or that puzzle comes undone. The pieces of my life that fit together is smoke and mirrors. It's a fucking joke. Don't you understand?"

"Huh?"

"When it really works the pieces of my life will come together in a way that looks incongruent to the naked eye. Outsiders will not be able to see how that is going to come together, and will file you away as an idiot. They will have no choice but to think your methods are insane. They will see that what makes sense to the naked eye fits, and will even try to fit it together themselves, because people love easy puzzles."

"What is my method?"

"Your method is to not do anything right away. The doing something is the problem. You will see pieces that work perfectly together and you shouldn't do a damn thing. You should sit on your hands. As you wait beyond the so called easy answers that appears; the ones people will scream you take. The real answers will begin to materialized if you wait. They will be ushered by your gut feeling. They will be undeniable. Your method is to try this next thing."

"You're always looking for the hard way out."

"It eventually becomes the easy way."

Lanvin trusts joy.

"I trust joy."

"Ok."

"While most people just like staying on the ground."

"Should I even ask?"

"God, it is so much easier. Just afraid of getting up in the air."

"What do you mean?"

"We like being racked. We like being really really close to suffering so we don't have far to go as we roll out the appointment book of our day. No need to fall in shit when we are in it. Joy is what we are really so uncomfortable with. It is where anxiety gets all over our ass. We are paranoid. A luxury of the spirit makes us increasingly nervous."

"Life is suffering I heard somewhere."

"Life is purging. It is cleansing"

"I need to take a bath."

"Staying in the air is tough. Staying there, in things that are going very right and not feeling guilty is tough"

"What?"

"I know, right? But jubilance is the enemy--you see. It is what can keep you up at night. It is unknown and unpredictable. Joy wrecks us, because we feel ill prepared and undeserving, but the craziest thing is, there are many more moments of it than suffering. The only reason there appears to be more pain is because of our continued resistance to joyful moments."

"So you say I like the ground"

"You like the ground. You hug it. I hug it at times. We don't have too far to fall, things could be worse, but we are always close to it"

"Maybe so"

"Peace and joy is much more common though."

"Ha."

"It is."

"Ok."

"You don't believe me?"

"I just like that you believe it."

"I just trust Joy."

Nicholas isn't just looking cute.

"You have to get your hands dirty."

"What?"

"You have to get your hands dirty when it comes to life. You have to get down in there. You have to stop looking cute."

"What?"

"You can't sunglass your way. You can't sarcast your way through life. You can't hide."

"Sarcast?"

"Or witty your way."

"What?"

"You have to participate. You have to show up. I mean...this is what I discovered."

"Huh?"

"I'm just saying."

William the lobbyist wants to know what are words worth.

"I'm tired of talking."

"I'm sure that will serve me well."

"All of this carbon dioxide in the world is starting to bother me. I feel just like news television, magazines, and books, that I'm always trying to persuade. Shape people into my perspective when we talk. That is the only truth, getting them to nod their head. The only drive. Everything else doesn't matter."

"Depends if you are on to something."

"What?"

"I can be herded if I like what your life looks like."

"Say that ten times fast."

"Especially if you are a lobbyist for peace instead of fuckupness."

"Regardless of what your saying, I'm tired. I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of all of the words."

"I don't believe you. But words are antiquated to you. These other sources needs us to nod our head. You hate words because you want us and yourself to understand without them, and that is what frustrates you. But you are still driven."

"Maybe, but I don't want them to to belong to me."

"That's it."

"What?"

"Isn't that what a lobbyist does? Work for a special interest."

"You are finally saying something of worth."

"I'm more than a pretty face."

"Back to the fraudulent words."

"...real suffering comes from clinging to a life that has nothing to offer us."

-the mentor within

William wants to surrender.

"I need to be healed. I need to be cared for."

"You?"

"I found that all of the relationships I've been in, and all the experiences I've had were conducted in some sort of mental war zone. We carried scars, shrapnel from so many other past experiences."

"I would suggest that what you are saying is laden with 'dramatics' "

"No."

"Ok."

"Can you imagine trying to have a relationship in a war zone? How do you two hold your relationship together?"

"I don't know."

"You hold it together. But that's just it, you hold it together. You don't expand. You don't breath. Something outside of you disguised as your hidden fear could come in and ransack it at anytime, and you have to be ready. You have to be prepared. In the meantime you pass time talking about your scars of the past; your past wars."

"That sounds bleak."

"It is. We need someone to care for us. We are coming to relationships from a war, and we are battle tested for a coming one."

"It seems."

"Doesn't feel to be out there when someone really cares for you; when someone hugs you and means it. Seeing you as not a soldier but innocent. It doesn't happen when you just forgive yourself."

"You think it's that simple."

"Yeah I do. I just wanted to know what I was fighting--which is nothing, and what I was resisting--which is myself. I wanted to surrender, and that is where I see that I am wounded. Deeply. Puncture and bleeding. I'm tired and I give up and demand a peace. I need to be healed. To let it in. To stay unprepared to the elements. Stay fucking unprepared for once."

"OK."

"I need to finally relax."

"Sounds serious."

"I just need to be cared for."

Save your airfare and forgive.

-arten

"You're television incarnate, Diana. Indifferent to suffering, insensitive to joy. All of life is reduced to the common rubble of banality. War, murder, death are all the same to you as bottles of beer. And the daily business of life is a corrupt comedy. You even shatter the sensations of time and space into split seconds and instant replays. You're madness, Diana virulent madness."

-Max Schumacher (William Holden)

Network (1975

screenplay Paddy Chayefsky

Slowie is romantic

"Who knows how to conduct a relationship."

"Huh?"

"My heart was broken in the early 90's. Romance was beat out of me, and because of that at 22 I started acting like my parents. I held everything, and digested till I couldn't recognize myself. I then got really serious and rid myself of playfulness, imagination and sensation. I even got married. Now I am like a kid in my early 40's, emotionally paralyzed, sexually immature, with a generation below us that gives out blow jobs like handshakes. I am trying to find myself."

"I should try the fish."

"After my first 15 years of ruin relationships, I decide to create Frankenstein ones."

"You sound angry."

"I'm not angry."

"You sound it."

"But I'm not."

"Ok."

"I'm just saying that I don't know anything about conducting a relationship. I don't have any idea about sex, romance and how love powers any of it. I'm mad as hell and I can't take it anymore."

"So what does that mean?"

"Like it is that simple."

"It must be if you are looking for a window to scream out of."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"No."

"OK."

"I don't know about you, but I don't know what I'm doing. I feel absolutely crazy. I feel uneven, like I am completley made up and I just need to say 'uncle' and my real life will begin."

"I was just thinking that this morning."

"right."

"OK."

"Can't you see it?"

"With you?"

"I can't trust you."

"Ok."

"But you know what? Romantic movies have lied to me. As soon as I got my period I have spent the rest of my life looking to understand what love is. After I was hurt time and time again I Frankenstein that shit. I piece together surrounding relationships to serve aspects of my desire. I fed my hollow self with these pieces. I built a golden fucking calf to love and sat with a ripped bra in front of it."

"Frankenstein?"

"I took my Frankenstein out to meet my parents. This hideous thing I called love, this thing that kept me just functioning. I half--assed myself. Can't you see that?"

"It's not like that."

"It is. I bought into some fucked up script and I'm sexually stunted. I can't feel. I have know idea who I am. These movies lied to me. I chased love based on their prescription and found a horror picture. I can only trust myself. Myself."

"So then you are angry."

"I'm not angry, but I believe I'm mad."

"Insane."

"Yes."

"Ok.

"I believe romance is alive and well. It is powered by love, and I can only trust myself for it."

Lanvin knows love isn't an action verb.

"I don't think I was attached to anything of significant in that relationship but my own addictions."

"I'm not even sure I asked you about it."

"I was addicted to things in it. I didn't know what a relationship was so I assume it has something to do with using addictions to keep it together. My need to be accepted, my desire distraction from the pain and agony of my thoughts. What else will keep you there?"

"Pancakes."

"So then you agree."

"Your saying that at the heart of most relationships is an addiction?"

"Yeah, don't you agree? It is an opportunity for escape. On top of that I can face outward and create dramatic moments between my mate to further keep me adrift from examining my mind."

"There is a love right? Love is the common denominator."

"Come on with that."

"What?"

"Love to what?"

"Love for the other person. You care about the bastard, that's what sinks you into this fucked up existence."

"How can you be way off? I'm saying that what you think is love is addiction."

"How do you know that?"

"Because just like a lot of other people we don't know what love is. You say it in this discussion as if it is going to shut me the hell up. But it remains to be unexamined and continues to be this big foot in the hills, and we parade under its banner and never see."

"I know what love is."

"Listen, my point is can you tell me the difference between love in a relationship and addiction in a relationship?"

"I'm tired."

"Right. We all are."

Anthony is not the norm.

"A few times he said 'from here on out I'm going to do things differently, yes, from here on out, as if he really was."

"What?"

"I watched a show about this person who was about to die. His was sick. When the doctor and the patient were separate you could sense they knew there could be no more treatment, but when they sat together they both denied this. The doctor was willing to try one more round of radiation, the patient was willing to except this procedure, if only to get back to a normal life."

"Right."

"What is a normal life?"

"Well if you live in a suburb it is sitting on a riding lawn mower."

"Yeah probably. Yeah you're right, that's normal. You are fighting your way---you are denying your way, to get back to that riding lawnmower. Something just makes me think that if you had three attempted bone marrow transplants, three powerful radiation treatments, that has also failed, and you have wasted away to 90 pounds from 160; you would have to start believing that the riding lawn mower, and this failed attempt to save your life was also a part of your life. There is no 'getting back'."

"Well this happens to showcase a resilience."

"I don't know. It seems like a repression. There is nothing normal about life. If anything it continues to be strange and undefined. If anything sitting in ICU or sitting on a lawn mower gives us an opportunity to define. If we start to look closer. If we just start to stay still we begin to define these moments."

"You think?"

"Yeah. Because there is nothing normal about both of those things."

William is not going to routine his shit.

"I'm crazy."

"Yeah."

"No. I'm really crazy."

"I know."

"What I'm saying is that I am crazy, why is that funny?

"I didn't say it was."

"But you act as if it is a gag."

"Well I know you are not serious."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're not crazy. If you were crazy you would be in a rocking chair surrounded by people in white coats or whatever the modern equivalent was. You would be able to hear things that I couldn't hear and demanding that I could."

"No that's not true."

"When it comes to this life you are functioning. It's moving."

"That's all it takes?"

"Yes. Routining your shit."

"I am a functioning crazy person. It's like a functioning drunk."

"Yeah."

"So what you are saying is that everyone is crazy? This behavior is so widespread it's normal."

"OK."

"We are all distracted. Can't concentrate for a moment to reflect. I see people out driving like they are in a fog only waiting to react. Walking dogs with a look of bewilderment on their face. They are not sure why they are in this routine but yet they carry on with it."

"No thinking, just a kind of doing. Just do it."

"Making sure you don't understand your relationship to people, places and things. Just doing things to keep moving along. You don't want to understand. you just want to keep moving it along for reasons you don't know."

"I guess."

"To a destination you are unsure about but that's fine."

"I guess."

"What if you tried to understand?"

"I don't have time for all of that I got bills to pay."

"Huh?"

"Understanding is crazy talk."

"I don't want to routine my shit. I can't help but want to at least know what the hell is going on wit this place. I came out of the womb and got my self into something here. I'm in some fuck up shit here. I'm in a jam. I need to think my way out of this. It doesn't feel right."

"Your in a tight spot."

"I am, but I'm no radical, I'm not trying to protest; I just want to try something else while I'm doing this with you."

"How you gonna do that?"

"I'm going to think my way out. I am going to stop and listen. I am going to observe and not use reaction as tool in the world."

"So your going to stop thinking?"

"Yeah."

"Your not going to routine your shit?"

"I'm not going to routine my shit."

Slowie wants to experience this without even having that.

"For once it just wasn't some dick."

"How's that? This is my trick ear."

"I was forced to desire something else."

"What?"

"Huh?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I won't say desire, but for once I started feeling that he was this time saying things with his tongue that still got me wet."

"And it's not even noon yet."

"I was confused."

"You?"

"Yeah. He was saying these beautiful things about love, talk in such a way that I can't describe. He would even listen to me, meet my low level demands with ease. Shit, I would forget I was talking. I had such a sexual edifice that this experience left me unprepared. It gathered me by surprise. I slipped and fell."

"Doesn't seem like your type."

"He was physically. it was a trap. Generally with those that I'm attracted to I have no problem with a pre game show. It is generally alcohol ridden or it is loaded with flat conversation and long pauses. But I stay prepared. I stay resilient. The sex is what I am signed up for. The mental abuse is what my ticket stub says; all while I approach the bedroom."

"But again that doesn't seem like his method of operation."

"But that's just it. Something he said out in the living room, something he made me feel fucks with my wiring when we are in the bedroom. It is like his whole visage--not necessarily the sex act, is what makes it more titillating. I can have an orgasm with picture of him in my mind sitting in a pair of chinos, rather than plowing into me from behind."

"You like that?"

"I like that."

"OK."

"It is almost like what he is saying is affecting me beyond what I think is my only sexual satisfaction. It's like what I have demanded for myself has been extremely low. I have under sold myself ."

"But you never expected that much anyway. Your stories of sex have just been silly escapades."

"True, it was a hobby of a distracted mind, but he has forced me to demand something else from my sexual experiences. In the end I just want to feel this...whatever it is, without even having them."

Slowie is in loves waiting room.

"All the questions I have about myself are answered if I was in a loving relationship."

"Do you even know what that is?"

"I fucking know. You never listen to me."

"OK."

"I know, because again everything that I am doing is just a waste of time until I am again exposing myself to it. I'm just distracted and fucked up until it happens."

"What does that mean?"

"The way I am figuring everything in my life is just a dramatic waiting room until I am seen by love."

"Does he have glasses with a clipboard in his hand?"

"All my questions, and all my deviant behavior becomes easily explained."

"What?"

"Turns out, the things I hide from people, the self that I am reserving for that one night stand in Coral Gables..."

"The sexual asphyxiation?"

"The balloon fetish or pie play."

"The fucking and punching?"

"Huh?"

"Not sure you're making sense now."

"I don't change is what I'm saying. I just wait for love to see me and all of my wanting behaviors are explained."

"Dr. Love?"

"I open to it, if I don't want to parcel myself out to sex and emotions with people across the city. It's like I am using different people for different behaviors."

"Your not into piecemeal?"

"I don't change. I can just heighten. I have myself explained to myself."

"Huh? What? Why?"

"It is another way to do some self evening. Like shirts being ironed out. I come in from the cold and everything about me is honored and explained as way to a purpose. I honor the good parts and all of what I think is my shitty self."

"You?"

"Me. Even I can be sanctified."

"Without an exorcist?"

"I'm just tired of forcing myself to hate what I'm attracted to and then give it to some strangers whose anonymity makes it easier for me to disrespect them."

"That can destroy people you love, and is why I personally and temporarily sleep with emotionally vacant women, when I want to kick start something bizarre and twisted I've seen on the internet or was personally thinking about."

"Your absurdity is baseless."

"Right."

"It won't destroy people you love, because the authentic love sanctify what you consider degradation and then--and more importantly begins to make you whole."

"Maybe so."

"It's transforming if you allow."

"But you still like 'piecemealing' yourself across town, don't you? You like being an actress unsure of the emotion this role will bring up. You still enjoy aspects of yourself."

"Like a movie you once thought was excellent, now you only see the sadness in it."

"That sounds sad."

"That's because it is, and I'm tired."

"Ah."

"Which is why I waiting to be seen."

"Of course."

The body is the ego's idol; the belief in sin made flesh and then projected outward. This produces what seems to be a wall of flesh around the mind, keeping it prisoner in a tiny spot of space and time, beholden unto death, and given but an instant in which to sigh and grieve and die in honor of its master. And this unholy instant seems to be life; and instant despair, a tiny island of dry sand, bereft of water and set uncertainly upon oblivion.

Nicholas doesn't like your asshole behavior but he will still take you to the airport.

"My distractions are moving over to where I can see them. It is almost like they have become easily identified in a emptying out party. They stand there completley under dressed and huddled. I see them."

"What kind of party is this?"

"Things are starting to collapse around me. I haven't lived up to my obligations anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know."

"Exactly."

"Well. I feel I finally let it go."

"What? He says with trepidation."

"Well maybe not all of it. I stop my support. I stop my support of what my friends wanted to believe about themselves. I stop my support for what my family wanted to believe about themselves."

"What?"

"I let them continue though. That's what it is..."

"What is?"

"My point. I stopped the support and realize my life got immeasurably quiet as I stopped, but I let them continue if they choose."

"Choose what?"

"If they want to abuse themselves I think it's ok."

"So you are telling me that you stop supporting people."

"There are two people in the world: those who think they need help and those who think they can give it."

"What?"

"There are logistical behaviors. I can help them logistically if they need a ride from the airport. Help them move. Pay for their dinner etc. Logistics, yes."

"I hope the latter is something we can discuss after this meal."

"I can do those things. I can do logistics. I can carry your drunk ass up a flight of stairs if you need me. That isn't the issue. I can be a reference for a job, but where it has changed.....it has changed where the disquieted is no longer accepted. I can no longer be a party to your self abuse, or aid you in self bludgeoning, after I have helped you up the stairs or into your new job. I cannot support you there. It doesn't serve me anymore to sit on the phone and listen to you exercise the banality of your life that you are decades away from changing. Matter of fact you would shoot me if I instituted practical application on the matter."

"I hope this is just a self realization and you don't mean me."

"Of course."

"Ok."

"I'm just not as distracted anymore. I can see all of the players in my own distraction. My own life has come in very clear after I stopped doing one of the two and now I have no tolerance with yours."

"Ok. How can you help me then."

"Well there is a third thing I can do. My support can be a friend who is distraction free that can be a mirror to your ass-holy behavior. That is the only beneficial support you will ever need. Someone who allows for accountability. I have cleared myself or I am aware of my hindrances and moved them back so I can be present for your growth."

"How else can you help me."

"I can carry your drunk ass up the stairs."