So I had this dream last night about Dominic (the crass"mentor").
We were at some large dinner formal event. A large facility, clean halls and bathrooms. He was sitting next to me but I am unsure if we had met up randomly or if I had brought him. Regardless I returned from a bathroom visit where I was helping someone who had gotten stuck in a stall or something, and found that most of the guests were really appalled by his behavior. I instantly recognized that face, that sigh, that disgust but I didn't take responsibility for it, just let it be his. Still I wanted to help him dig his way out, and I couldn't think of the words to convince these people that underneath it all he was charming. It started to drain me, this exercise of having to prove someone's worth, I could understand their reaction, but it seemed like they should be more forgiving. I wasn't exactly worried about impressing these faceless formal wear types, but it hurt that they didn't get to see his good side... and of course he wasn't helping matters at all.
I've been sort of thinking about that all day on and off. I wonder why this man I met almost 10 years ago had such an effect on me. Maybe because he was my animal self, full of anger and off-putting. Maybe because he didn't hide his sexuality, didn't have anyone close enough to care about more than his jokes and escapades. It was freeing and awfully sad.
But I wonder if I am sick of making excuses for that side of me. Of having to make up for it, yet still worried that people won't see the good side, even in my ugliness I wasn't all bad.
How does one take responsibility without being consumed? That's what I have been wondering all day. ******************************************************************************
So on that note I spent my day at a coffee shop avoiding responsibilities and staring at everyone who came in. Dismissing and fantasizing, and wondering how other people deal with the same ideas. I hung out with a really nice girl the other day, but is it enough to be nice?
Is there some creature comfort that is acceptable to just play around with...
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I tend to gravitate towards the self pitying. I was thinking about that on the way home. A soundtrack of victim's ranting plays on repeat in my head. Maybe its because I am being honest in my head (or trying to be) for a change... but regardless I don't lift a finger to change it. Sort of pathetic.
Wondering about wondering, rolling over till its groans and pitiful.
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