August 30, 2012

This morning, I wrote a serious essay to deal with my latest misunderstanding.

However, before I type that up and publish it, I need to remind everyone that one of the first things that I said when I started writing online, years ago, was that I am horrible at relationships.

If you want things to go very wrong, in a relationship with me or someone else, I’m the one that you want.  Is that a marketable skill?  Should I put it on a resume?


Here’s what I wrote this morning:

A few weeks ago, I was watching TV and blurted out something about a guy that I saw.  I was still at the Salvation Army shelter in Boston then, it was still high summer, and, apparently, there were people listening outside the windows.  Apparently, the conglomerate considers eavesdropping to be perfectly polite.

News can travel fast when you’re famous.  Within a few minutes, I saw from what was happening on TV that he’d heard about what I’d said.

I had said that he was good-looking.  That’s not a direct quote; exactly what I said was perhaps more emphatic but not racier than that.

The next night, even though I had realized that there were people listening outside the windows of the shelter, and that there probably had been whenever I’d stayed there during the summer when the windows were open, I did not want to let that fact make me worry about everything that I said or every word that I used.  I don’t like that the conglomerate doesn’t seem to want me to have any privacy and also seems to want to control what I do.  If I have something to say to somebody, I’ll make sure that the person knows it, and I don’t need or want to do that in ways that are dishonest.

I did not know how old the person was about whom I’d said what I’d said.  I thought that he was in his 20’s.  I was concerned about that; dating significantly younger people is not that much fun, I don’t think.  You, or at least I, want to spend most of my time with people who are going to understand me and be able to relate to me as a person because their own life experience allows them to do so.  When you’re dealing with people who aren’t even in their mid-twenties, and you’re in your thirties, you have to expend the effort to observe and gauge what’s going on with them all the time so that you can keep your expectations of them realistic and something that they’re going to be able to meet.  You can’t expect them to automatically know what people of the same intelligence and similar backgrounds who are a decade or more older than they are should know.

The thing that I saw as being good about this guy being, I thought, not quite in his mid-twenties and not older than that, was that there was some room to be understanding about him not realizing that the conglomerate was bad, and hope that he would realize that it is and decide not to participate in it.

What seemed to be his first, televised reaction to what I had said in an inadvertently public way was not ideal, to say the least.  What I was thinking after that, though, was that he was someone who hadn’t been involved in anything that the conglomerate did to me last year or even this year, directly, and that he had joined the conglomerate because other people had and not because he had really thought about it or thought about the consequences of it.  I thought that he might quit.

I did not pursue it.  I didn’t do any searches of his name, nor had I ever done any.  I didn’t say anything to anyone to imply that I would be interested in dating someone who is part of the conglomerate; in fact, I reiterated that I would not be interested in doing that.

I did let myself have the thought that maybe he was old enough, bright enough, mature enough, and brave enough to push the conglomerate away.  I didn’t give that thought a lot of weight, but I let it stay there in my mind for a while.

A lot of people are mean to me every day, and that’s been going on for a long time.  Most of the people who are mean to me in the Boston area, who harass, stalk and threaten me, probably don’t read my blog, or don’t read it often, don’t understand why the conglomerate is bad or that the way that they treat me is bad.  The opinion and behavior of those people never make me think less of myself; however, being abused that much adds up to something that is painful and discouraging.

I let myself have the thought that there was a guy around who did or who would like me and respect me and who would choose to say no to the conglomerate.  I let myself have that thought until I saw unmistakable signs from the conglomerate that things were going the wrong way and that I couldn’t let myself have that thought any more.

Yesterday morning, I restated a boundary that I have set before, about how people can know if I’m interested in them or not.  I wrote that on this blog.  If there are famous people who want to make sure that I know that they are not part of the conglomerate and don’t support it, and they try to get my attention to tell me that, I might consider getting to know them, but even if they do that there’s no guarantee that I’ll be interested.  Interest still follows the rules of interest; it’s personal, and either somebody or something does or doesn’t interest you.

I’m still not that interested in dating or befriending famous people, anyway. The fact that I’m now famous myself has made me somewhat less reluctant about the thought of doing that than I was before I was famous, only because someone who’s already famous is not someone to whom I would be giving the previously unfamiliar and frequently, for me, unhappy burden of fame.  If my life works out, and I’m able to find work and go back to school, my social life will probably work out, too, and I’ll meet people that I can be friends with for one reason or another, who will be the right friends for me and for whom my fame either won’t be a problem or will be something that we figure out how to deal with.

Last night, I finally did a search of the guy’s name and found out that he’s 18.  Then I took these pictures and sent them to my e-mail, along with these captions:






The book was one that I found on the shelf on the shelter and thought would be helpful for the purposes of taking that picture, because it had the word “cradle” in the title.

I tend to have quite a bit to do when I get back to the shelter at night, even if that means just sitting on the couch and trying to relax.  Everyone has to do a chore.  It’s a shelter where the meals are not made for the guests, so I always have to make dinner.  If I have laundry to do, which I did last night, I have to do that.  Since it’s also a house with other people in it, you have to take your turn using things there, so that means you’re not entirely in charge of your own schedule.  Lights out are at 11:00 p.m..  There are always a lot of pictures in my phone that I could send, and organizing and planning that I could do.  The pictures that I took last night were the best that I could do at the time; I also can’t see much of what’s in any picture that I take until I can send it to my e-mail and upload it on a computer.  The only purpose of the pictures and their captions is to send the message that they send about this particular situation.


Copyright L. Kochman, August 30, 2012 @ 11:13 a.m.