10:11 PM, Wednesday, April 27th 2005:
My life in the past several years has seemed to come back to one common theme: Truth. Either the search for it or the giving of it, my life revolves around it. To most people who know me I’m the most truthful person they’ve ever known and that really boggles my mind because even for me there’s shades of grey everyday. However when it comes to interpersonal relationships or simply writing about myself (which is in turn an interpersonal relationship with the reader), it’s absolutely black and white. What’s the point of this project I give my fucking nervous system to if I start trying to hide the changes happening? And relationships? Why invest your heart and soul into someone if you can’t be 100% open? Just lie to everyone and get hookers. It’s a helluva lot easier than holding secrets or lying to people you have a connection with.
I met a woman on my plane ride back from North Carolina who after an hour or so of talking asked if I was religious. When I said no she almost looked befuddled. “Then why are you so honest?” – It was a nice little slap in the face. She had an over-analytical streak in her as well and I found it funny that she couldn’t just comprehend that I’m not doing it FOR something. I just said experience shows it makes things worse. Man, my poor kids. I just realized that they’re going to have me for a dad. Ha.
In my mind, lying is arrogance. It’s saying that you know better than the person you’re talking to, what they want to hear. The second you fall into that trap your downward spiral gets so ugly. It’s so incredibly disrespectful and damaging to the fabric of your relationship that there’s really no way out. As time goes on you’re tainting everything. If you cheat on your wife and tell her, it’s bad. If you cheat on your wife, but spend 2 or 3 months acting like nothing is wrong? Whew. You’ve not only hurt your spouse once, they then realize all the moments you shared SINCE that moment were a huge lie. You’ve multiplied the pain x10. But everyone is so untrue. It’s outrageous.
Of course I was coming back from the weekend of lies. Upon landing I was to get slapped with even more lies. The next day I would wake up in a daze and be utterly and completely lost. On the verge of tears every moment. So where did this all lead me? To leave work early and go to a strip club.
As I walked in I couldn’t really put my finger on what I was doing, because I hate strip clubs. Maybe it’s because I don’t need to pay for it to see that, or that I’m just in no mood to be teased. Don’t put that in my face unless you want something done with it. It was slightly amusing that I wasn’t sure if it was all nude until the second dance came out with a skirt on and proceeded to bend over in my face making sure I knew she meant…NOTHING because it’s a goddamn strip-club. (sigh).
As I sat there I kept wondering why I was there. What on earth about this big day of lies and analyzing why we lie would I come to a DEN of lies? And then the first woman came over to me to talk me into a lap dance and it all became clear. You know these women are lying through their teeth. It’s a pretty face trying to get something out of you and you get to go in and out of belief depending on what you want to feel. You’re in complete control of the lie. You can watch her little game and buy it if you want to feel good, or just laugh at how obvious she is “this is my first day!” ß my favorite. And Christ if you’re gonna be lied to your face all day at work, and your most trusted confidants, at least this girl is naked. Of course that lasted for all of 10 minutes as I can’t even do a strip club right. I just feel BAD for them. Like they want $20 for a lap dance and I just want to take them to dinner or help pay for diapers for their kids or some shit. It’s just such a sad place to be and I don’t know how these guys can enjoy it. But they were the most enjoyable lies I heard all day.
To add to the surrealness as I was leaving the club they were shooting Reno 911 and the one guy with the big glasses and mustache was in a kilt racing around with some big ass cake or some shit… I don’t know. But in the daze I was in – it’s just another day in LA. My life is like driving through a television.
All of you reading this have to be ripping your hair out about the locked entries. I know, it’s killing me too. You just can’t believe the stories within. Amazingly it’s completely separate stories that are happening at once. The end result is me so lost I can barely wake up in the morning. It would be depression if I wasn’t still so numb. I realize if I’m going to make this a “pay site” I will have to unlock the entries and I believe that some people are just going to have to deal with the consequences. It’s no longer that much of a secret to all the participants and I’ll simply run it by them and see what specifically kicks their ass. I know Jess is insanely apologetic for what she’s said/done but that doesn’t mean she wants it public. On the other hand, it’s so blatantly TRUE and without bias it’s very hard to argue. Maybe it will be therapeutic for her. Hey Jess, wanna write an entry? You’re about the only person I would ever let have their own number. Maybe you could just add a forward and editor’s notes to the entries. I’m sure there’s several readers that would be quite thankful for it.
Good lord…if you just read all the unlocked entries in a row for this month – it's the most off-the wall collection of entries EVER. It makes absolutely no sense. LOL. Where is May when you need it. Where is that damn trip to Japan. I’ve never needed 10 days off so bad in my entire life. I’m really, really toying with the idea of not prepping at ALL for Japan. Arriving at the airport, taking the train to Tokyo and just standing on the street and walking in whatever direction feels right. I must be fucking crazy. Why does the thought of this inspire the hell out of me? Shouldn’t I be scared? I’m not in the least. I’ve been so careful and deliberate in my planning the last year and look where that’s gotten me. My life is scarier now than it’s ever been.
There’s just so much more to say – but I had to have you picture me at a Strip Club trying to “help” the strippers. LOL. I’ve officially become a stereotype.