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zero carbohydrate alcohol Friday, March 26 1999
I could just stop writing my journal and have my fans and stalkers write it for me instead. I've said enough by now; I'm beginning to repeat myself. That stuff I wrote about Nirvana the other day was essentially plagiarized right out of the Big Fun Glossary, and I wasn't even really aware of it. Here's some of the textual dialogue currently swirling around me, first from Kim to hOlOmOs cOpPeRtOnE, then his reply. Permission to publish these emails was (in typical punk rock/hip-hop stylee) neither requested nor granted:
I understand your disgust with the changes in The Gus's life and why
you connected with his writing and the characters in Charlottesville.
I am not sure what to say about it. It is hard to measure up with a
group of punk rock teenagers. I am 28 now, but I am not quite the
yuppie that Gus portrays. He just needs to bitch about something. He
has always polarized his characters. A little background on me. . . My
friends have always been the strangest and brightest norm breakers in
whatever community I lived in. Although, I did not require them to be
punk rock in style. But people I know that a reader like you would
connect with. I understand why you have grown bored with his site. He
is so into his computer programming now. He tells me he doesn't have
time for adventure.
Perhaps you can enlighten me on your experiences and how you remain true
to these ideals you spit out. I found your criticism thought provoking.
If Gus and I stay together, is there any direction you see the site
going that would make it more exciting to read? Or, should he truly
"ditch the bitch and set out for Newark." (a great line by the way)
Believe me, I am not interested in blocking someone's creative spirt.
The emotional climate around here is not as negative as is presented by
The Gus. I have asked him many times after reading the entries, are you
sure you want to stay together? If I was just some random reader, I too
would say ditch the bitch. But he say's no, he loves me. Yeah, aint
that fucking sweet. No, not really. Randomly has been a big pain in the
ass for me. Imagine someone recording your life day in and day out but
with a twist that does not come from you. What does a day in the life
of you consist of? Some ideas I have for the site (you too would have
ideas for a creation that involves you on a daily basis)is incorporating
more of a mixed media format, with a lot more video and sound. It can
get pretty intense around here, thought provoking, erotic. More
interesting than what gets put on Ran. You see, he thinks he has to put
me down as the controlling girlfriend to make it more interesting for
his readers. The protoganist's fight for freedom. But I agree with you,
no one wants to read about a volatile yuppie couple. I know that. But
there is so much more here. It might not even be about Gus and I, or
Gus and his [employer name]/ pod building interests. I see the everyday
life as a backdrop into what is really going on in our psyche. For
example, a flitting thought was that I could see myself fucking you.
Men like you, have always turned me on. Gus is still there with you, he
has just detoured into his lego building, love ditching world. That is
why so many writer's choose fiction or poetry as their outlet. Everyday
reality is not always full of excitement. The Musings were more of a
social documentary. If I lived in Charlottesville, I may have been one
of the Big Fun characters too. Do you understand what I am trying to
convey? Circumstances and time have a way of changing things. For some
reason I think you can enlighten me on this subject without completely
demoralizing me. There must be another avenue besides being ditched for
Newark or getting knocked up. Is it collaboration?
--Kim
wow ,WOW thank you for this that you have sent to me .
let me preface this by saying I was drunk and some what bitter at the time of the writing of that poorly
punctuated epistle (that to my chagrin got posted) that's the last time I let the spell check run amok
it was, by the way ,supposed to be new york not newark, but I digress
thank you for being human and responding , that feeling of being let in was really all I was after, but the gus was
always to busy (or something) to pen a even brief response ,after I had read his WHOLE journal ,in reading ,the
size of his mammoth EGO became apparent so I thought I could goad him into responding by attacking his sacred
creation ,as being an adoring fan had failed .
I'm sure on having reread the ill natured crap I sent, that I trod fairly heavily on every perceived short coming I
could conjure out of memory ,I would offer apology but I'm not really sorry at all ,as poorly penned as it was the
frustration was quite real.
you see as a fan and a member of the same generation (I'm twenty five)
who grew up in roanoke virginia and evolved into a social freak under somewhat similar circumstances I felt a
certain bond could flourish if nothing else because of geographic proximity and similar interests
I thought these things should give us some common ground upon which to relate .
I found his writing exciting and had hoped to be able to forge a connection with this talented writer and fellow
drunk
(after all if there is one thing I can't stand it's up.)
but no matter what I sent there was no response ,that started to get to me as it might anyone , oh well enough of
that .
I'm really impressed with you and this intelligent letter you have sent it really helps me to remember that you
are a real person the you I have always read about is , I see now a contrived fiction created by the gus ,I like the
real you ,or at least the you that comes through in your writing so much more than in Ran.that you is so flat and
petty in a way the musings girls never the contrast between the portrayals is stark .
I must admit it's strange and wonderful to get this closer angel from which to view your character,and buy the
way thanks for the eros,it's stirring to have some woman you have never met say she has thought about fucking
you.
I wonder how I look in your fantasy,well I tend to break delicate things,as I carelessly run rough shod over ideas
and feelings without meaning to in my careless drunken exuberance ,so this time I'll take charge and shatter your
fantasy on purpose I'm six foot, 180,chest length bright dark red haired male of scott /german decent,so next
time you think of fucking me you will have a visual guide and oh
this has been a lovely shock thank you for this gift of your time and thought .here's one for you crushed ice and
pop rocksss.
as for how to make ran. morinteresting you should have mirror entries (Random heavenly laughter ) or some
such,the contrast would be refreshing and it would give the gus a taste of his own medicine.
oh and how about a picture of you that would be nice your still this ephemeral ghost woman I would like to see
your package the skin wrapper. is your body as lovely as your thoughts?
please forgive me my crassness it's a part of my defensive porcupine spines that sort of thing
"I rest in the center of a storm,
batterd and torn by thoughts to real,
as I sit on this blasted ground
all my hopes scatterd round
the casualties of war.
I crawl through my life
searching for answers
raving to any who will listen
with passions so true
the lies seem real
lost hope lost years
lost love bitter tears
fall into the cremated
remains of my past.
the battels I've won
this is the cost
my mind torn
mouth full of dust
face in the frost
slowly my color fades to grey"
thank you again for being kind and opening you self to me
I truly appreciate it , it means allot really
holomos coppertone
P.S. the gus talked about music again YAHOO!
(Some people who should know better are proving themselves kind of dumb, trying to unsubscribe from my mailing list with "UNSUBSCRIBE" written to the list's mailing address, gus-l@spies.com instead of the list server's mailing address, majordomo@spies.com.)
In the evening, Jenna the German Girl was over at our place, and I arranged for us to all go hang out with Kevin the DBA over at his place in the Schtevish upscale development of La Mirage. Jenna was acting like a fussy insecure seventeen-year-old, wanting to first know why Kevin hadn't returned her calls and fulfilled other aspects of mainstream romantic protocol. Since I'm not party to this romance, these concerns all seemed silly to me and it was easy for me to bully the participants into getting together despite their discomfort.
At Kevin's place, Kim ordered a pizza with extra pepperoni, which she plucked off and put on a plate for Kevin. Both he and Jenna are still on that ridiculous zero-carbohydrate "Atkins" diet and cannot eat most of things with which pizzas are made.
Kevin wanted both himself and Jenna to get drunk, and he was operating under the delusion that pure alcohol contains no carbohydrates. But Jenna, who seems to enjoy decadence semi-vicariously with an unfortunate air of condescension, would only sit there and watch us in uncomfortable silence.
I got angry with Kim when she surfed for a moment to my online journal on Kevin's cable-modem-equipped computer. I can't have these people reading my journal; in exchange for zero advantage to either Kim or myself it would devastate a huge sector of my story-telling ability. I would have thought by now that Kim would have more of a clue on this sensitive issue.
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