Posts Tagged With: literature

Regarding “The Journal of Wall Grimm” Blog

I haven’t been keeping up very well with regular posts/journal entries for Grimm and so, for the time being, I’m going to direct my attention to my other blog SAGE DOYLE Fiction and Poetry

That’s not to say that Grimm has come to an end, he will just be on temporary hiatus. 

My current work involves “The Heirloom” which is an ongoing story that I am writing with Arthur Browne at Pouring My Art Out. The story is being posted as written on both of our blogs, so be sure to go check him out.

I will reblog some posts here from my Sage Doyle blog, but if you’re not already following that one, you may want to.  Bear in mind that if I’m following you from one blog, I’m automatically following you from both, so if you don’t get a follow back from me, then I’m already following you.  Confusing?

Anyway, for now I’m going to make the Journal Entries page stagnant during the break, so feel free to roam around and read older entries you haven’t seen, well over 200 of them.  Also, browse the other pages, explore, etc.

I think I will post in the Random Grimmness category, which doesn’t consist of journal entries per se, just some things like thoughts, photographs, and other random contributions by Wall Grimm.

Basically, I’m not done blogging, my focus is just shifting for a little while.  At the Sage Doyle blog, I’ll be writing “The Heirloom” with Art, and possibly be returning to some poetry now and then.

Not gone, so don’t forget.

Feel free to contact me.

Take care,

Sage

@sagedoyle

https://www.facebook.com/sage.doyle

author page: https://www.facebook.com/1sagedoyle

sagedoyle@yahoo.com

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Categories: NOTES FROM SAGE DOYLE | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 226: SNOW! And Fecal Matters

February 11, 2015

Why haven’t I been writing in you, my old friend, Journal?  Here’s why:

1. There’s been tons of snow, roughly about 75 inches in 18 days.  What that means is that I’ve been doing a lot of shoveling.  A lot.  I’ve shoveled our place; I’ve shoveled some neighbors’ homes; and I’ve gone to my parents to help them.  My dad had a heart attack the first storm while shoveling.  He’s out of the hospital now, but I was going there do it for him after that.  I also shoveled at the store to help Sharly so she wouldn’t have to hire anyone to do it.  Well, she’d never really hire anyone, she’d do it herself, but she was eager to accept my offer to help her out.

2. Though school has been cancelled some days, I invested time into reading ahead and beginning future assignments.

3.  I’ve spent time playing in the snow, which is awesome.

4.  I’ve been maintaining Bogart, who apparently hates snow, I learned.  The snow has triggered his decompensation, which has been a lot to handle.  There were times I was tempted to get him evaluated at the hospital.  The best person to handle him in these cases is Cola.  I’m most often the one to calm him, but now that he’s having a relapse of all his symptoms, he’s paranoid and afraid to trust me.  He’s been violent with me, so I’m kinda beat up.  I try not to hit him back, since it’s not his fault, it’s just a matter of getting away and stopping him.  He’s not violent with Cola, Pete, or Gary Oldman II.  Pete is kind of afraid of him, so he has a hard time intervening.  With Cola, Bogart will not hit her, because she identifies as a woman, but then he remembers she’s anatomically a man, so he gets confused.  The confusion is what seems to calm him.  He tries to react to her like he would a woman, then gets tempted to react as if she’s a man, then the conflict takes over and he’s stunted.  She’s soothing with him and he responds well, once the confusion distracts him from whatever was going on in his head.

Other than that, these are the things that have gone on:

1.  The Patriots won!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2.  I had gone to that gynecologist appointment with Solenne.  When she was called in to the exam room, she insisted I go in with her.  I hate to admit I was kinda horrified.  It was uncomfortable and awkward.  First, she was told to strip to nothing and put on the johnny.  I thought she would tell me to turn around, but she didn’t.  She’s not as modest as I assumed.  I think any modesty she may have exhibited before was the result of her not wanting my sexual attention.  But now that I’m aware of her situation, she trusts I’ll back off.  This reminds me of a story.  She was over my place and she decided she wanted to attempt a blow job.  When we took down my pants and I was lying on the bed, she said that penises were funny looking, “even a little ugly.”  Then she said she wasn’t sure if she wanted to put that in her mouth.

I’m not sure if I should be offended.

But, she decided against it and said maybe some other time, though since I was expecting it, she resolved to jerk me off, but she used two hands and churned me like butter, which was both interesting and fucking hot.

Anyway, I digress…

After she stripped, and the doctor came in, that’s when it got most awkward, as she laid back, put her feet in the stirrups, and the doctor stuck her head under the sheet between Solenne’s legs.  Ok.  I’m sorry.  That got me so horny.  I got even more horny when the doctor was doing her breast exam.

I feel like a pervert.

…But yeah, so in the end, the doctor referred her to a plastic surgeon, a specialist for genital reconstructive surgery.  She said it is definitely medical and should be covered by insurance.  We’ve got that appointment in March, it’s the earliest one we could get unless there’s a cancellation, in which case they will call us.

3.  Olivia contacted me about her exhibition and let me know the date, which is at the end of February.  I’m still concerned about that.

Other than all of that, as a result of all the snow, it has seemed that we’ve been in a snow apocalypse since we’ve had some days when people were either discouraged from being out or required by law to stay off the road due to state of emergency status, with police officers commuting doctors and other health professionals to the hospitals.  Crazy shit.  I have some other crazy shit I want to say.  My name is Wall Grimm and this is crazy shit.

WALL GRIMM’S INSANE FECES

1.  I was waiting at a light and the person in front of me went through the red light, and for once there happened to be a cop nearby who pulled the person over.  I was so happy.  In fact, I was a little gleeful.  I fucking love to see that.  People who go through red lights fucking piss me off.  They kill people.

2.  I realized that there are likely particles of fecal matter in farts, so when you smell one and even taste one, you are breathing in and tasting fecal matter.

3.  The snow in our yard goes up to my balls.  That’s really cold.

4.  The snow banks in parking lots are twice the height of me.  On the sides of the roads, they are nearly my height or higher.

5.  Being relatively snow bound has enticed me to cook more.  I made calzones last week, but they sucked more than I wanted them to.  Nana, my great-grandmother, is turning in her grave, God rest her soul, amen.  Sorry, Nana.

6.  Pete and I were having fun jumping off our balcony into the snow below, until Bogart overcame his hatred of snow, and leaped off the balcony, landing with his knee in Pete’s face and breaking his nose.  Bogart thought it was hysterical, and that the bright red blood on the white snow looked cool.  Then he began to whine about how cold it was and suddenly realized he was in the snow, in just a jeans and t-shirt and barefoot, and he ran back upstairs into the apartment where Cola had to deescalate him once again.  Pete was done jumping off the roof.

Ok, maybe some of that isn’t crazy shit, but I’m not perfect.  To make up for my imperfections, I’ll paste some snow pics in here.

This is a photo of a snow phantom:

phantom snow

Nah, it’s just me running up a mound of snow near a plaza after the second storm.  We have more snow now.

This one is just a cool picture:

snow light

Buried trees by the plaza:

trees snow

A worse off tree:

snow5

That one was after the first storm.

And that’s all.  I’ll end with a random theme song.  It’s “She’s a Lady” by Tom Jones.  Cola loved this song and was listening to it one day, and ironically, I pointed out to her that the lyrics were really sexist.  She was like, “oh damnit, you’re right, the song is ruined for me now.”  Sorry, Cola.  C-O-L-A Cola.

*******

Grimm 225: Random Stew http://wp.me/p41c99-19g

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

 

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 225: Random Stew

January 19, 2015

Well last week, after Blues Monday, I called Sharly to recommend a gynecologist, and Solenne made me call to schedule the appointment for her.  Solenne is not usually so unassertive.  It’s a reflection of her shame and discomfort with admitting what was done to her.  We have an appointment for next week.

On Tuesday, classes started up, and incidentally, I got Dean’s List again last semester, so that’s good.  I’ll get into what I’m taking this semester another time, maybe…if I feel like it.

I’ll also maybe tell you another time about today.  It’s Blues Monday, but it’s also Martin Luther King Jr. Day and The Convoy are going to play a gig, which is cool.  We rarely do gigs, but a celebration of  Martin Luther King Jr. is being held at a local hotel throughout the day and evening.  A bunch of Jazz, Blues, and R&B bands are performing, including us.  Solenne has been wanting to come to Blues Monday, but I’ve known about this event for a while and I wanted the first time she’d hear me play to be this performance, the real deal, and not just practice or jamming.  Howard is even going to let me sing again.  The best part is that we’re towards the end of the lineup, which is a compliment to the band, means we’re that good.  Not the major headliner, but we’re up there.

Anyway, for now, I will present to you, Invisible Journal Reading People, a series of random things.  My name is Wall Grimm and here are some random things I feel like mentioning.

WALL GRIMM’S ARBITRARY OCCURENCES AND PENSIVENESS

*One morning, the day after it was my turn to do the dishes, a task which I failed to do because I was remiss, I went to have my coffee and saw that there was a limited selection of clean cups to choose from.  (I did do the dishes later in the day.  I’m not that remiss).  The only thing available was this thing of Cola’s.  It was a cup with a teapot on top, so the shape of the two pieces together looked like a tea pot.  I took the cup, which was more like something you’d have soup in, or café au lait rather than just your standard morning cup of coffee.  So as I take a sip, it spills down my chest, and underwear, which is no fun way to wake up.  Later that same day, Hasty stopped by to bring me a present.  It was a coffee mug, with a picture of me and her on it.  She’s very sweet.  Now when I use it, I text her and say, “I’m drinking out of your mug,” as mug is a pun for her face.

*American Horror Story season finale this week.  Is it just me or does Jessica Lange get more beautiful every episode?  She distracts me while I’m watching the show.

*I was taking Bogart to his counselor appointment, and he noticed the sign that said: “No Parking / No Estacionarse”.  He laughed and exclaimed, “No estacionarse, no stationin’ your arse! bwaaahahaaaaa.”

*As a personal philosophy, I like to think there are more good people in the world than there are bad people, because if the opposite were true, then the world would be truly fucked.

*I’m going through this thing lately, and I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I guess there’s some kind of hippie body snatcher that’s taking over, and I think I’m beginning to love… …everyone.

*Another mention of Hasty.  Every now and then we’ll text each other and ask, “what are you wearing?”  She texted me this, and I began my reply with “I’m” but then in the word options I accidentally hit the word “stew” after it.  “I’m stew.”  Strange, I don’t ever remember using the word “stew” before so why it would be in my personal options is beyond me.  I went to delete that word, but my little touch keypad froze up on me, and instead of deleting, it returned to the next line.  I continued to try to back space, but then it unfroze and I hit the “m” by mistake and typed “Mmm.”  Fortunately I didn’t send that, I just restarted my phone and replied normally.  It was funny, but that can’t be explained in a text.  It’s also one of those things that no one ever thinks is as funny as you do.  I avoid trying to describe such things to people.

I’m stew
Mmm

*I’ve said this before, in different ways, but I enjoy when I catch someone doing something stupid when it doesn’t involve me and I’m just an observer.  Most times this happens with other drivers, since I’m the only one who seems to know how to freakin’ drive.  I know this isn’t nice, and it’s the part of me that the hippie hasn’t snatched, but I like it when people are stupid and I witness it, because I know they’re doing something I’d never do and therefore I am validated as to how smart I am.

*I like the word villain.  No one ever uses that word anymore except in super hero movies.

*I didn’t do the dishes yesterday either.

And I’m going to end this journal entry with a Lord Gary Oldmanism:

According to some source online, with no reference point, Lord Gary Oldman said, “You ever go into a house, see a light switch, and it’s slightly crooked?  Drives me crazy.”

No Gary, I never have.  Must be something that only happens in England.

I have two theme songs for this journal entry.  I watched “Ishtar” with Pete, Cola, and Bogart the other day, Cola’s recommendation.  It was pretty funny.  So I’m picking “Oh Little Darlin'” and “Dangerous Business” by Rogers and Clarke aka Warren Beatty and Dustin Hoffman.

*******

***The two incidences above involving Hasty are true.  I did try to have coffee one day and the dishes hadn’t been done, so I used one of those teapot cups and spilled the coffee all over myself.  Later that day I received a package in the mail, a gift from Hasty:

IMG_1602    IMG_1604

Thank you Hasty, you’re a true sweetheart!

Then the texting thing “what are you wearing” is real, we do that, and the thing with “I’m Stew Mmm” was real, and I truly didn’t tell her about it, but maybe she’ll appreciate it when she reads about it here.

previous Grimm 224: Solenne http://wp.me/p41c99-191

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

Hasty is based on herself from http://hastywords.wordpress.com/

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 104 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 224: Solenne

January 12, 2015

Well I’ve learned why Solenne isn’t having sex with me.  I assumed it was either a cultural or religious thing, or her own personal beliefs.  I respected that and only asked her once about it.  We kiss a lot, but the moment it seems like it might go too far, she pushes me away and says no.  I don’t persist.  The one time I asked her, I said something like, “if you don’t want to have sex, that’s fine, I understand, but can you tell me why?”  She answered, “no” and the subject was closed.

Solenne and I spend a lot of time together, especially when we’re at school, we meet on campus.  Otherwise, we go to either her place or my place; we go out sometimes to the movies, for dinner, for coffee; and when the weather permits, we go jogging with her dogs.  At my place, we have less privacy because of Bogart.  Pete and Cola would be willing to go to their rooms and do their own thing if Solenne and I want the living room.  But Bogart follows me around as much as Gary Oldman II does.  He kind of glues himself to me.  The occasions Solenne and I decide to go into my room just to be alone, Cola and Pete have to distract him while I disappear.  Then they have to continuously distract him and entertain him, otherwise he’s knocking on my door asking me what I’m doing and why I’m not out there with them.  He does this even when Solenne’s not around, which limits my ability to jerk off undisturbed.  I jerk off in the shower, in the bathroom when I’m not showering, then in the evening after he’s in bed and first thing in the morning.  Unfortunately I’ve had to jerk off in public restrooms as well.  I’ve taken more showers than usual, because sometimes I’ll take one just to jerk off.

Anyway, Solenne was over on Saturday and Pete and Cola had to do their distracting thing so Solenne and I could go into my room.  We were kissing as we were seated on my bed and I positioned us to lie down.  She was on her back and I was lying on my side kind of over her, kissing her.  Then I moved down, lifted her shirt a little and began kissing her stomach.  She let me at first and seemed to like it, but then she stopped me and sat up.  She seemed upset, which she doesn’t usually get upset when she stops me, rather she comes off as affirmed and that’s the end of it.

I asked her what was wrong and told her to talk to me.  She responded with honesty and without hesitation.  First she told me that she loves me, which dumbfounded me in a good way.  I told her I love her too.  She said, “really?”  I think if she didn’t believe me she wouldn’t have told me the truth about why she didn’t want to have sex with me.  I was right in that it was a cultural thing, but not in the way that I assumed.

When she was fourteen years old, shortly before she came to the states, there was a man who chose her for marriage.  This was not long after she “lost” her family.  She still won’t go into details about what happened to her family.  But without her family, she really had no one to protect her.  He made arrangements for her to be taken to a place where they performed female circumcision on her.  The practice had been banned since 1998, yet there were a group of women who were still performing the cruel procedure, and who were actually arrested a couple years ago for it.  Solenne isn’t sure if it was that group of women or another group who mutilated her.  Basically they took her against her will, held her down and cut off her external genitalia and clitoris without any anesthetics or medical treatment.  She was left with only one small hole, too small for even a pinky finger to fit in.  One hole through which she would both urinate and menstruate.

A month later was when she was expected to marry this man.  He was 25 years old and she didn’t know him.  She was on her own and working, not going to school, and I got the impression that he may have been her employer’s son, but I’m not sure.  Before the marriage took place, her uncle got her over to the states.  My time frame may be a little off, since sometimes I don’t understand her through her accent, and I was reluctant to press for clarity or more details while she was being so open about this experience.

Once she told me everything, she explained that she does want to have sex with me, but she’s afraid for a couple of reasons.  First, she’s ashamed of the mutilation, she thinks it’s ugly, and she thought I would be disgusted and want nothing to do with her anymore.  I assured her that I would never have done that, and I’m not going to do that.  Second, she was afraid that if I didn’t reject her, and we tried to have sex, that it would be very painful.  I agreed that it would probably hurt her and I wouldn’t even want to try.

She wanted to talk about potential options and she thought that maybe I could gradually enlarge the opening with my fingers, and over time it would be wide enough for penetration.  But then I asked her if she ever wanted to have children and she said yes.  We decided to do some research about possible complications in childbirth.  We went online and she was identifying some problems she had in the beginning, immediately after the procedure, and health issues since then, such as urinary tract infections, and extreme discomfort during menstruation.  Our research also revealed continued medical issues, whether or not she would be having sex, as well as dangerous childbirth.  It is also impossible for her to have a proper gynecological exam, which I guess is important for women to have.

The only thing I could think of to ensure her long term medical safety and health, was reconstructive surgery, which should be covered by insurance, since it’s a medical issue.  She was really happy when I mentioned this, which relieved me.  I was kind of tentative to suggest it because I didn’t want her to think that it was an indirect form of rejection, implying that I wanted her to fix it and make it ‘normal’ again.  But she understood the idea was based upon her own personal benefit and health, long term, and had nothing to do with my desire to have sex with her.

She expressed that she felt so much better since there has never been anyone she could talk to about this, and it would be especially awkward to discuss it with her uncle.  She also had never considered the problems that could arise or have arisen.  Instead, her focus has been her embarrassment and shame, which even overshadowed the violation and trauma of the experience.

Today we’re going to contact a gynecologist and start from there.  We’ll make an appointment, get expert advice, and if reconstructive surgery seems like the best thing for Solenne, then hopefully we will get a referral to a plastic surgeon who can help her.

After we had finished talking about it, I wanted to see the results of the mutilation.  It had nothing to do with perversion.  Part of it was curiosity, but mostly I wanted to assure her that she needn’t feel ashamed.  I also wanted to see the results of an incident that caused her such anguish.  I guess I wanted to connect with her a little more by intensifying my compassion, knowing the horror of her experience, and gaining her trust by proving I would never reject her.  I wanted her to believe that I thought she was beautiful inside and out, every single cell of her.  But I couldn’t bring myself to ask.  I thought she would misunderstand my intentions.  We lied quietly for a time as I held her.  And I think she sensed what was going through my mind because she offered to show me, like one would show an appendix scar or something.  Nothing sexual about it.

It wasn’t a butcher job, it didn’t look bad, just different and wrong, and it clearly must have been excruciating for her to have gone through it.  And the more I thought about the one hole for both urination and menstruation, the more I realized how unnatural that is, and the endless health problems she could have throughout her life because of it.

She pulled her pants back up and said, “Because you know about this now, sometime I could do this blow job thing for you, but I don’t know much how to do it.”

I laughed a little because of the way she said it, but I said, “well we won’t talk about that right now.”  I didn’t want to get myself worked up for it, since I didn’t think it would be appropriate to get right into anything sexual.  I mean, what happened to her is a sexual crime, a sexual assault really, and I just thought it would be better to be with her in presence, without my mind preoccupied by my overpowering libido.

My theme song for this journal entry is “At Last” by Etta James, because it’s about love, not sex.

*******

previous Grimm 223: Iona, Olivia, & Paula http://wp.me/p41c99-18w

next Grimm 225: Random Stew http://wp.me/p41c99-19g

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 31 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 223: Iona, Olivia, & Paula

January 7, 2015

Happy New Year, Invisible Journal Reading People.

I have no resolutions.  However, there are some undefined things that I will likely be resolute about.  I may have revelations and I’ll probably succumb to resolves.  But no specific goals or resolutions.  I’m just gonna keep on doing what I do, because I think I’m on the right track in many ways, or at least in as many ways that satisfy me during this period of my life.

Keep on truckin’ Grimm.  Keep on Grimmin’.

Ok, I want to talk about when I saw Olivia, Iona, and Paula over Christmas time.  My name is Wall Grimm, and here is a synopsis of my experience with the ladies past.

WALL GRIMM TALKS ABOUT THE LADIES

IONA – She had wanted to come over my place to bring me a present, which was a new journal and a pen that makes my handwriting look cool.  This happens to be something most people buy me at one point or another.  However, I appreciate and use them all.  I haven’t bought a journal in a long time since I am consistently supplied with them by other people, which is great.  She also got me tickets to go see Brian Regan when he comes to Worcester in March.  wtf that gift is fucking awesome, I love that guy.  I didn’t spend that much on her.  To be honest, I hadn’t gotten her anything until I talked to her.  Last she decided, we were taking a break from our friendship, so I never expected to see her over the holidays.  When she wanted to come by, I told her that I’d rather go to her place.  Two reasons for that:

1. So I could buy her a present before then.

2. To avoid Bogart’s sexually harassing her.  Two reasons for that:

1. She’d probably end up having sex with him, which, when she and I would start hanging out again, would make it complicated because that’s what he would expect.

2. I don’t know…kind of makes me jealous, because she’s kinda mine.  Only because of our history, since I am with Solenne.  Rationally I know I have no claim to Iona, but hey it’s human nature to feel that way.  And I don’t go against my nature.

Thus, I went to Iona’s.  I bought her the entire series of “The Kids in the Hall” on DVD, which made her happy.  She talked about getting back together, though she knew I was with Solenne.  She was just wondering if there was a chance, which there isn’t unless Solenne and I end things at some point that I don’t foresee.  Iona seemed sad and lonely.  She was looking good, pretty hot, since she’s been working out and got in kick ass shape.  She said that now she gets a lot of attention from guys, but before her weight loss, she never did, except for me.  She said I was different from all the other guys, that I thought she was hot before the weight loss and I liked her because of her personality and who she was as a person.  She feels uncomfortable with the attention, awkward in her own body, and kind of wants to hide from the world and men, at times.  It takes her a lot of energy to feel prepared for the attention, and she often feels like she preferred being invisible.  It’s an interesting perspective that I’ve never considered.  I like the attention I get, but then, I’ve always gotten attention.  I mean, in those stupid movies when the nerdy, homely girl or guy get a makeover and they’re suddenly hot, they don’t seem to mind the new attention at all.  That’s realistic, right?

Didn’t think so.

But yeah, Iona was always attractive.  I guess she just didn’t fit the mold of what’s head-turning for most guys.  Most guys tend to pursue whomever causes a second take, which meant that Iona was often looked over.  I am different from most guys.  I give every woman a second take.  Partially because I’m a pervert and partially because women fascinate me, and I find beauty in most women.  I say most because there are some personalities that turn me off, like superficiality, vanity, selfishness, and negativity.  Otherwise, my three predominant turn offs are:

1. Masculine women.  It confuses me when a woman is just as masculine as a man.  They’re great people to hang out with, but I’m usually not attracted to them sexually.

2. Poor hygiene.  Anyone who smells or looks like they might smell turns me off.

3. Women who freak me out.  (see Olivia below)

Anyway, Iona and I are going to hang out as friends again, which is good.  But I still plan to keep her away from Bogart as much as possible.

OLIVIA – She’s a fucking freak.  I mean, that was something I liked until she abducted me.  Now she freaks me out, hence a turn off.  She came into the store sometime before Christmas, I saw her and I was like, yikes!

yikes! = turned off

Turned off is an understatement.

She came in to tell me about her photography exhibit in a gallery in Boston.  It’s not her own personal exhibit, but one that will display the works of numerous local artists.  Her exhibit is titled, “Exploit” and all the photos apparently are of me.  That made me go, yikes! again.  She invited me to go to the open house which kicks off the exhibit.  That’s sometime in January, I think.  She said she’d text me the information and would even have me picked up in a limo, but I haven’t heard from her yet.  I told her I’d think about it.  I really don’t want to spend time with her at all, but I want to see this exhibit.  At the same time, I think it could possibly scare me.  I asked if Solenne could come, and as I suspected, Olivia said no.  That was pretty much it with her, especially since the store was busy with people shopping for Christmas.  As I write this, I am convincing myself that I should go, because I think it’s important to see the images of me being exposed to the world.

PAULA – Paula offered to come pick me up one night after she got out of work.  She took me to her place where she had to “freshen up” from work.  She showered and prepared a dinner for us, so I was there for about an hour before we were sitting down and eating and finally able to talk.  She asked if I was ok with her drinking wine, not wanting to tempt me or cause me to relapse.  I was ok with it that night, some times are more difficult than others.  She drank a lot during the course of the evening and ended up getting drunk.

Before she was drunk she was telling me that she missed me and was hoping we could get back together.  I told her I had a girlfriend.  She said, “but you can live here” and went on to describe a scenario similar to our previous living arrangements.  I could live there and I wouldn’t need to pay rent, I wouldn’t even need to work or anything, I would just do things like I did before, including but not limited to: shoveling, mowing the lawn, raking the leaves, other yard work, maintenance work on the house, running errands, and stuff she defined as “basic men stuff that women are able to do, but would rather not.”  Basically she wanted me to be her kept boy again, which wasn’t a bad situation, but I’m beyond the days when a sugar mama seemed like a good thing for me.  This revealed to me how much I really have grown up.  As a man, I need to support myself and be able to some day support a wife and kids.  Maybe that’s an old fashioned gender role/stereotype, but it’s just my nature to feel that way.  Again, I don’t go against my nature.  Although, it is my nature to want to fuck most women I encounter, and that’s something I’ve had to regulate with varying degrees in my life, usually based upon morals.

I asked Paula if she’s seen any other men.  She said she has, and she’s grateful that I brought her out of her shell to enable her to do that.  Then she said that none of them were like me.  I asked “how so?”  She said that the men she has seen are older, around her own age, and they are settled.  They’re established, set in their ways, their future is paved, stable, and they are predictable.  She said I have a whole life ahead of me and it is still unknown as to which direction it will take.  I could end up being anywhere doing anything at any time.  I have a vitality and a sense of adventure that men her age don’t typically have.  She thrived on the energy of my youth, excluding the self-destructive aspect of it.  I told her that she could find other younger men who’d be interested in her, they’re out there.  She said she knows this, but the problem is that she’s in love with me.  She realized that as she started seeing other men.  She compared them all to me.  She used to compare other men to her late husband.  When she first started seeing me, she compared me with him, and found that the contrasts were all in my favor.  Then we broke up, she saw other men, compared them to me, and the contrasts continued to be all in my favor.  She said she’s in love with me and she’s never loved another man so profoundly, not even her husband, and in fact her love for me made her recognize that she never was in love with him to begin with.

That was kind of too intense for me to process but that was the point when she began to get drunk, and emotional, and start to come on to me.  I had to deter her advances, which was difficult because of my lack of sex that I have been compulsively addressing.  Solenne is not having sex with me.

…sigh…

Even if I wasn’t with Solenne, I couldn’t justify haven’t sex with Paula when she was in a drunken and emotionally vulnerable state.  But yeah she got drunk, and then I had no choice but to stay the night to take care of her.  It was a mess and I felt bad for her.  She was embarrassed the next day and has texted me a few times apologizing.  But who knows if we’ll ever be able to spend time together as friends.  I don’t think she can.  I don’t know why she liked me so much, I think I was kind of an asshole.

But whatever, that’s my tale of ladies past.  I have moved on, though they hold on, yet I’m not sure why.  I think there was a certain level of insecurity with Iona and Paula, and somehow I made them secure, so it’s less about me, and more about how I made them feel.  Olivia is just a fucking perverted freak.

My theme song for this journal entry is “Fever” by The Black Keys, for reasons I’m choosing to withhold, just to be mysterious to myself when I’m 80 years old and reading my old journals, and get pissed off at myself for not explaining those reasons here.

*******

previous Grimm 222: Ladies Past & Dignified Grimm, The Kind of Guy to Laugh At http://wp.me/p41c99-18h

next Grimm 224: Solenne http://wp.me/p41c99-191

 

 

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 222: Ladies Past & Dignified Grimm, the Kind of Guy to Laugh At

December 29, 2014

Well this has been the week of ladies past.  I heard from people who seemed to come out of nowhere to send me holiday greetings.

I’m not sure how some of these people got my address but I received cards from Flower and Bob, Lauren, Megan, Shannon, Snow White, and Sweetheart.

Flower and Bob are still living in the old apartment and they wrote that they want me to move back because the person upstairs from them is annoying.  I guess they miss me because I was less annoying, which is hard to believe.

Sweetheart sent a card created from paper she made from some kind of vegetation, and wrote a lot of spiritual blessings on it, with no mention of Valentina.  There was no return address, but it was postmarked from Arizona, which confirms my suspicions that she’s on the Native American reservation.

Lauren’s card said that she was going to be 18 in a couple of months and would I like to get together with her.  Kinda freaky and weird, but I did send a card back which said that yeah we can go somewhere for a cup of coffee or something, but I casually indicated I have a girlfriend.

Megan, aka the drunken maiden, sent me a card which apologized about her parents, her behavior, and thanked me for being a gentleman.

Shannon, aka tits, wants to get together sometime, but I have no intention of responding to her.  First, because she’s kind of a manipulative bitch.  Second, because she’s too hot and I’m too horny and I have no temptations whatsoever to cheat on Solenne but I’m afraid I might explode.

Snow White said she’d still like to come up to Boston and visit.  We’ve texted on and off and she knows I have a girlfriend.  She’s a nice girl so I know it would only be as friends that we’d hang out, so maybe we’ll plan something.  She also welcomed me to visit her in Florida, she’d get me passes for Disney World, and she said I could bring Solenne.

Then other than the people I see every day or most days, I saw Iona, Paula, Olivia, and Emma.

Iona, Olivia the avant garde perverted kidnapping crazy photographer, and Paula are stories for another time.  For now, I’d like to focus the rest of this journal entry on Emma.

On Christmas, Pete went to his parents’, Cola went to her parents’, and Bogart went to his mother’s (which is also a story in and of itself).  I went to my parents and I brought Solenne.  As usual, there’s a lot of family there during the holidays.  Uncle Dan was there.  I tried to ignore him and he was tentative around me since I think it was Easter when I punched him in the face.  For good reason, but I’m not going to get into that now.  Again, the tension of his presence is a whole other story.

Anyway, I wasn’t expecting Emma, I guess she communicated with my mother and wanted to surprise me.  I haven’t heard from her since she left.  I figured she was busy or maybe resentful since I rejected her attempt to use me for sexual experience so she could be ready for the guys in Spain.  She had returned home for a couple weeks over the holiday and arrived at my parents’ house Christmas night.  It was a record breaking warm night, raining on and off, and when Emma arrived, Solenne and I were standing outside on the back patio.  Emma went in through the front door, I guess, and was directed out to where we were.  When she walked out, Solenne and I were kissing.

I sensed someone there, stopped and looked to see Emma with a combination of shock and embarrassment smeared across her face.  She said, “I’m sorry,” and took off back inside.

It was weird but when I saw her, it almost felt to me as if I had been cheating on her or something.  I felt guilty as if I had been deceptive.  I’ve been wicked into Solenne, pretty much had forgotten about Emma.  Mostly I think because I was finally able to let go of the dream.  But when I saw her, I got so confused.  Then her reaction to my kissing Solenne was perplexing.  Emma’s feelings about me have never been clear, except before I revealed how I felt about her.  Before that, we were just best friends.  Once she knew I was in love with her, things got really complicated.  She’s rejected me numerous times, and other times confused me with her motivations.  It was painful, but still a relief, when she left for Spain and I finally resolved myself to let her go.

After she ran back into the house, I called to her.  Then I said to Solenne, “excuse me,” and I went in after her.  I felt like I wanted to be alone with her just to be able to talk without the awkwardness of our history making Solenne uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to be rude or disrespectful to Solenne.  I’m with her now, so she needs to be my priority.  She actually tells me what she wants and how she feels, not like Emma who plays games.  I don’t believe that Emma ever intentionally played games.  I think she was just conflicted and unsure because she had big life plans and I was an unexpected opportunity/obstacle/temptation/disruption…

…whatever.  I understand that, but I moved on.

When I got to her in the house, I took her by the arm.  She turned and said she was sorry and that she should have told me she was coming.  I said, “no, it’s a surprise.”  Which is a polite way of saying, ‘you made my heart drop when I saw you, I’m still in love with you, and I’m about to pass out because all the blood in my head went to my dick which was already hard enough.’  Then the fleeting last thought, ‘you fucking bitch, don’t distract me from Solenne, I’m happy now.’

Anyway, I took her out to meet Solenne and they got along well, though I never saw Emma exhibit such insecurity before.  They spoke some French, which sucked because I didn’t understand much at all, and I knew they were talking about me, and I never found out what they were saying except Solenne later told me it was all “nice things, and some funny things.”

Yeah there’s a lot of reasons to laugh at me.  I’m just that kind of guy.

The evening progressed and we all had a good time.  I had a guilty satisfaction that Emma seemed hurt and jealous, and a little disoriented that I wasn’t internally pining for her but was rather obviously devoted to Solenne.  I don’t ever want to see Emma hurt, of course.  It just made me feel good about myself that I could show her that I’m a man who can move on with dignity, and not a hopeless brokenhearted boy clinging to a fantasy.

Emma left before we did, and it was sad to see her go.  That was the moment when I realized how much I missed her, and would continue to miss her, and how intensely she causes my heart to beat.

No theme song today, because the silence is a reflection of the part of me that will forever be empty without Emma.

*******

previous Grimm 221: Nothing Else is Salsa http://wp.me/p41c99-17O

next Grimm 223: Iona, Olivia, & Paula http://wp.me/p41c99-18w

 

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 22 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 221: Nothing Else is Salsa

December 24, 2014

 

It is time now for the saga of being enstoned with Astrid to come to an end.  These are the things I have yet to describe:

1. Astrid making up words insisting they’re in the dictionary with me puppet show two asses hiding or thinking so from behind couch what was she thinking Astrid didn’t know we were seen but I did daughter said her name is Shayte spelled s h a y t e but that was my mistake she really said Shaye

2. Salsa sauce

3. Elf on a shelf

4. Tin foil wrapped around itself with a sock on its head and a joint

All right, well the first part is self-explanatory.  Astrid was making up words which were clearly not words, but she insisted they were and told us to look in the dictionary, which we didn’t bother doing.  We weren’t even curious to find out if maybe we were wrong, because those words were definitely not real.  I wish I could remember the words but they were multisyllabic.

The one about her daughter’s name is also obvious.  I had known her name was Shaye, though asked her how to spell it.  I thought she said, “Shayte, spelled s h a y t e.”  But she really said “Shaye, spelled s h a y e.”  The interesting thing about that is, since it’s a monosyllabic name (speaking of syllables) it’s easy to see how I might misunderstand her saying her name was Shayte as opposed to Shaye, but in her spelling, how did I hear her throw in a ‘t’?

That’s weird.

My subconscious filled in the letter I guess, since I was thinking she was creatively altering her name to be a variant pronunciation of the word shit, or shite.  I don’t know why.  Hey, I was stoned what can I say.

Salsa sauce is just something that I was teasing Astrid about.  She was asking if I had any snacks to bring down because she got the munchies.  She asked if I had tortilla chips and salsa sauce.  I had never heard anyone call it salsa sauce before.  I was like, that’s fucking redundant.  Salsa just is.  The word salsa defines itself, nothing else is salsa.  You don’t need to include the word sauce.  Like rice pilaf basically means rice rice and shrimp scampi means shrimp shrimp.  You don’t say spaghetti pasta or squid calamari or bagel bread.  But I still don’t think I was able to convince her that all she needs to say is salsa.

The puppet show.  Here is when things get ridiculous.  My name is Wall Grimm and I was forced to do a puppet show.

WALL GRIMM’S MUTE PUPPET

After one of Shaye’s friends left, she went upstairs to her room with her other friend that had arrived, Zack.  Astrid wanted to mess with them somehow, and mentioned something about puppets talking to them at their door.  My first thought was that we should do a puppet show, we’d hide behind the couch and when they’d come downstairs they’d only see the puppets which would be…I guess putting on a show for them.  My second thought was, “don’t fucking say this idea aloud.”  But the next thing I did was say it aloud.  Apparently I don’t even listen to me when I’m stoned, but at least I understand myself.

It was a joke idea, I didn’t mean for it to actually happen.  Yet Astrid thought it was a great idea and got all excited about doing it and forced me to do it.  I say forced because she can be very persistent.  Also, when she gets excited about something, it’s difficult to say no, since she’s the kind of person you want to make happy.  Plus, I was high, so…yeah.

Her enthusiasm dominated my reluctance.

We put socks on our hands and got behind the couch in child’s pose, which is a yoga name for kneeling down with your ass on your feet, your abdomen and chest down over your thighs and knees, and your face to the floor.  If Shaye and her friend would’ve come to the bottom of the stairs, they wouldn’t have seen us, but we would’ve raised our hands and put on a glorious show.  Not really glorious, but how else do you describe a puppet show?

Astrid was calling Shaye down, who wasn’t responding at first but then she came down to get something from the kitchen.  The dining area of the kitchen and the living room is one large room separated only by the line between carpet and flooring.  Once Shaye went into the kitchen, she could see us, our ass ends.  I knew she could see us, but Astrid was convinced she couldn’t and remained tucked down.  I followed her lead and remained that way too, unsure of what to do next.  Yeah it was my idea to do a puppet show, but I didn’t want to do it, and I had no plan as to how to execute it, or how to accommodate for mishaps with ‘the show must go on’ mentality.  So I stayed tucked down, and Shaye was directly behind us in the dining area.  And since I was behind Astrid, my face was pretty much in Astrid’s ass.  Shaye was like, “what the fuck are you guys doing?”  We didn’t respond, we just continued to pretend we weren’t there and remained ‘hidden’.

Then Shaye went back upstairs.  Astrid wasn’t ready to give up and shouted up for Zack.  He comes down and stands at the bottom of the stairs and Astrid’s puppet comes to life and begins talking.  I was confused and amused and horrified.  I have no clue what her puppet was saying, but she was like “come on, Grimm” so I raised my hand up with my puppet sock.  My puppet looked pretty cool though, I have to say.  It was one of those slipper type socks with the rubbery circle things on the bottom to prevent slipping.  I had those circles on the top of my hand so it looked like my puppet had like 12 eyes.  I was impressed with myself.

Anyway, I raised my puppet, but he got stage fright and couldn’t speak.  Astrid said, “say hi to Zack.”  I paused for a moment before saying, “hi Zack” in a stupid puppet voice, and then I was done.  I laughed quietly out of embarrassment.  Meanwhile, my hand dropped, in effect causing my puppet to hang his head low in shame.

Zack politely said hi to my puppet.  He stood there smiling unsure of what to do or how to respond.  I got up on my knees and said, “she made me do it.”

Astrid told him he could go back upstairs.  He laughed and said ok and was gone.

….

Ok, and the last thing about this evening that I have to describe and then I’m done is the tin foil wrapped around itself with a sock on its head and a joint.  I bought the tin foil for Shaye as a joke Christmas gift because she’s always looking for some, of course to fashion into homemade paraphernalia, implements of pot smoking.  Astrid decided she wanted to do the Elf on a Shelf thing with Shaye because they’d never done that, and somehow we decided to do it with the tin foil.  We wrapped the tin foil around itself.  We gave it a sock hat.  I made a cone shaped nose out of wrapping paper.  Astrid put tin fringe hair on it and eyes.  I rolled a mini joint from the papers Shaye discarded after her failed attempts to roll a proper joint.  I burnt the end of it to give it the effect of being lit.

And this was our masterpiece:

20141220_171318

We wanted to come up with a name for it and decided it looked like Bob Marley.  We came up with tons of names but none of them were suitable.

I said Bob Aluminarley or Alumarley.  Since Astrid’s obsessed with the Illuminati for some reason, she said, Bob Aluminati.

Finally, I decided on Tin Marley, though I’m not sure if she’s aware of that.  I was trying to think of a way to say it like Elf on a Shelf and thought of Tin Marley on the Scene or Tin Marley in the House.

Tin Marley in da house.

Don’t worry about a tin, ’cause every little tin’s gonna be all right.

I don’t plan on getting high again anytime too soon.

All right, and since it’s Christmas Eve, my theme song for this journal entry is not going to be anything by Bob Marley, but my two favorite Christmas songs.  “Merry XMas (War is Over)” by John Lennon, and “The Little Drummer Boy”, the Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band version.  Merry Christmas Invisible Journal Reading People.

*******

previous Grimm 220: This Journal Entry Has a Title http://wp.me/p41c99-17z

next Grimm 222: Ladies Past & Dignified Grimm, The Kind of Guy to Laugh At http://wp.me/p41c99-18h

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

 

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 28 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 220: This Journal Entry Has a Title

December 20, 2014

I forgot to title my last journal entry.  I guess I killed another brain cell.  I mourn thee.

…a moment of silence…

…interrupted by Bogart entering the room and farting really loud, then laughing “bwahahahahahahahaaa ‘at were like a bloody earfquake in me pants!”  Pants meaning his underwear because that’s what he calls them.  Then he leaves the room, and I have no idea why he came in here, except maybe to fart.  Thanks for sharing, Bogart.

Ok now I’m in my room.  I had to leave the kitchen.  Even though I couldn’t smell anything, I was having an issue with breathing the air with which the fart comingled.   And I’m ready now to finish the story about getting stoned with Astrid.  And…here it is:

I’ll begin with why Astrid and I smoked.  Why did Astrid smoke with her daughter Shaye?  Well that’s an extremely long story so I’ll make it semi-brief.  They have a complicated history filled with struggles, obstacles, suffering, hurt, anger, and a battle to somehow live peacefully together.  My reasons behind Astrid smoking with her are general, vague, and they don’t go as deep as I should really get into, but simply put, Astrid first was curious to see if smoking pot would help with her back pain, since she could get prescribed medical marijuana if she felt it would work.  There was also a part of her, I believe, that was hoping the experience would help her bond with her daughter.  She knows her daughter smokes, and she often feels like a bad mother for allowing it, but at the same time, she understands that smoking helps Shaye.  It calms both her anger and her energy, both of which are cyclonic.  She’s an intense girl with a lot of talent, sensitivity, and brilliance that she is capable of bringing into the world once she is able to tap into it effectively.  Her anger is essentially an enormous force of emotion and passion which, once channeled into something positive, she will be able to accomplish anything she wants in life.  Plus, she’s pretty funny when she’s high, like when she gets embarrassed she’ll go stand in the corner and laugh quietly.  I don’t even think she realizes she does that, until we point it out, “is Shaye hiding in the corner again?”  Then she laughs more.

Anyway, why did I smoke?  Many reasons: stress, end of semester release, I needed some calm myself after being around Bogart so much, sexual frustration since I’ve been with Solenne, and I quit smoking cigarettes so I’ve been on edge a lot.  In fact, I was being a dick at one point and Cola said to me, “I like it when you used to smoke.  You’re an asshole now.  And you looked cool when you were smoking, too.”

I was like, “That’s the worst thing you ever said to me.”  But that’s just her facetious and ironic wit so I wasn’t pissed off or anything.

Once I was stoned, I did not want to go back up to the roomies.  I couldn’t even imagine being around Bogart while I’m stoned.  I’d be afraid that the voices he hears when he’s not on medication would jump into my head.  I’d think that since he’s on meds, the voices are hovering about him constantly waiting for that moment when they can break through to his mind.  But when I’d enter the room stoned, they’d get all excited about the open doorway to my head that they’d jump in and….well I wouldn’t want to be in Bogart’s mind, and I wouldn’t want his mind in mine.

I also didn’t want to face Cola and Pete, they would know I was stoned, especially Pete who has seen me wrecked more than anyone else.

Then of course I wouldn’t want to be around Gary Oldman II.  For some reason, cats make me paranoid when I’m stoned.  People don’t, but cats do.  Cats just freakin’ stare at you and it’s like they know everything about you, everything that’s going through your mind, like they’re some kind of higher beings who are capable of judgment against you, and your punishment is an inner shame that they inflict upon you as they stare and it feels like they’re stealing your soul.  The worst part is when they look at you and pity you because you’re just a stupid human who has disappointed them once again.  That’s how Gary Oldman II would feel about it, since her job is to help me stay clean and safe.  She’d be furious with me.

I still have a lot to say about that night, but I don’t think I’ll be writing it in this journal entry after all.  I accidentally lied.  I accidentally got stoned and I accidentally lied.  I’m inadvertently misbehaving, look out.  Grimm the Unconscious Rebel.

Other words to describe it:

Grimm the ________ Rebel (fill in the blank with):

autogenic, knee-jerk, begrudging, compulsory, half-baked (of course), uncalculated, habitual, wooden (?), deep-seated (did they mean deep-seeded?), flaky (nope), devil-may-care (I like this one), by the seat of his pants (deep-seated?), fault-less, adorable (that was included in the synonyms for “innocent” so I had to include it here as well as a few others), godly, radiant, rapturous, otherworldly, chaste (yes now that I’m with Solenne), fluky (wormy?), wanton (yeah I am), odd (Grimm the Odd Rebel? uh, no), pointless (as in without a cause, maybe?), fits and starts (what?), and I’ll end with casual.  Grimm the Casual Rebel.  I kind of like the sound of that.

Anyway, I guess I’ll end it here and recommence the story another time.  I’ll just say that Astrid forced me to put on a puppet show, even though my puppet was mute.  Is that a metaphor?  Well, Invisible Journal Reading People, you have to be patient, you will know in due time.

My theme song for this journal entry is “Stray Cat Strut” by the Stray Cats because, well…all that shit I said about cats, plus I like the Stray Cats.  They’re an amazing cross between 50’s and 80’s music and style, a one of a kind band.

 

*******

previous Grimm 219: (untitled) http://wp.me/p41c99-17f

next Grimm 221: Nothing Else is Salsa http://wp.me/p41c99-17O

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

 

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 36 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 219:

December 18, 2014

Last night, I accidentally got stoned with Astrid.  To say it was accidental may seem to make no sense, but it’s true that I didn’t purposely intend to get as stoned as I did.  I’m just a layman now when it comes to smoking pot since I don’t do it anymore.  All it took was two hits, but it was good shit.  Anyway, let me set up the scene.  My name is Wall Grimm and here I share my tale of getting high by default, as opposed to my fault.

WALL GRIMM THE BAKER

I went down to see Astrid to give her and her daughter their Christmas gifts early.  I haven’t mentioned her daughter yet, but I don’t see her much since she’s always with friends.  She’s 16 and her name is Shaye.  So I went down there and Astrid, Shaye, and a friend of Shaye’s were planning to get high.  (There needs to be some clarification as to why Astrid would smoke with her daughter, and why I caved and smoked since I’ve been so well abstained, but I’ll get into that in another journal entry).  Shaye was incapable of rolling a proper joint so she resolved herself to pack a bowl.  I could’ve done it, but I didn’t.  I’m stubborn like that.

Before I write anymore, I have to say that I wanted to be sure to tell the complete story, so I wrote notes in the memo of my phone.  I think I’ll show you the notes first and explain later:

1. Too humble to think of a better word than cool

2. The new boots are like people.  They’re outside they’re slippers.  They’re inside they’re boots.  Opposite that.

3. Astrid making up words insisting they’re in the dictionary with me puppet show two asses hiding or thinking so from behind couch what was she thinking Astrid didn’t know we were seen but I did daughter doesn’t flush toilet daughter high but once her friend got there she blamed it on us but first said we were awesome but changed it to annoying once she got caught she said her name is Shayte spelled s h a y t e but that was my mistake she really said Shaye

4. Salsa sauce

5. Elf on a shelf

6. Tin foil wrapped around itself with a sock on its head and a joint

7. Felt like Ron Swanson dancing

Ok, these notes need clarification.

I’ll start with the last one.  When I used to get high, I was real cool.  I was Ron Fucking Swanson:

ron swanson

After two hits, I became Ron Swanson on Snake Juice:

7561126136_1e1343d537_z[1]

Yep.  That’s me.

I blame Astrid.

Allow me to translate the notes:

1.  Astrid said she probably wouldn’t remember anything, so I said that when she wakes up, she’ll only know this fact, “Grimm’s really cool when he’s high.”  Then she said when I’d wake up, I would think “Astrid’s really insightful when she’s high.”  Then she told me the word cool was lame and I had to think of a better word.  I said no, my vanity was only allowing me to extend so far as “cool”.  She said that I was too humble to think of a better word than cool.

2.  She has these boots that are like boots when you wear them outside, but they’re comfortable and like slippers when you wear them inside.  When I wrote the note about that I made a mistake and wrote it the opposite way.  I was too stoned to change it, so I followed up with “opposite that”.  But yeah, this is where she got insightful.  She said “like people”.  They change depending upon they’re environments.  This can be either a physical or psychological transition.  Or both.

3.  This note was a bunch of things mixed in.  I’ll explain the Shaye name confusion another time.  And I guess Shaye doesn’t flush the toilet.  Self explanatory.  Astrid just told me to write that in my notes, I don’t know why.  Then there was when Shaye’s other friend showed up.  She mumbled to him that we were high and said that Astrid and I were awesome.  Astrid said “what?”  Shaye said, “you’re annoying.”  Astrid and I looked at each other.  We knew the truth of it.  We knew we were in fact awesome and Shaye knew it too.  She was just wicked high and pinning it on us.  But as for the rest of this note…I think this deserves a journal entry all on its own, so I’m going to leave this for another day.

4, 5, and 6 will be included in that journal entry.

For now, let me get down to the essence of the experience of getting high last night with Astrid.

I was trying to be cool like I used to be, but Astrid was making me laugh.  I tried to be kinda quiet, which I prefer to be, but whenever I did try to talk, she’d go off on a different tangent.  Astrid has ADHD – Attention Deficit when High Disorder.  I was determined, however, to finish whatever I was saying before her diversions.  I’d have to trace back the conversation to where it started and try to figure out the point I was trying to make and how the commencement of it lead to where I ended up.  I should have just quit but I had to do it, if only to prove to myself that I was capable of rational, clear, and sequential thought, hence enforcing the solidity of my cognition.  The all powerful and functioning faculties of Grimm.  There’s an innuendo in there…

Anyway, the result was that what would be a five minute story turned into an epic tale, though I wished I could just stop talking.  But I had to finish the fucking story.  That’s all I wanted.  And in the end it actually was only five minutes that these moments of suspected verbosity lasted, because I frequently checked the time.  Time slowed down so it seemed like forever.

Then, as I was trying to explain something and she would go off with it, wandering around the house cleaning or something, she just couldn’t stop moving, and she wouldn’t stop talking, she’d just go off with what I said and then when she’d finally sit down she’d say, “oh I get it” and then explain to me what I meant.  I told her it was an interesting process to see her basically have a conversation with herself and work it all out until she made sense of it.  I was glad that I didn’t have to explain it to her, because then we’d just end up in one of those cycles again.

Last thing I have to say for now, and I’ll write more about the rest later, is that when I used to get stoned I was pretty quiet and serious.  But last night I couldn’t stop laughing.  And what follows is an observation I’ve made in the past when I’d stay quiet and watch and listen to the other stoned people in the room.  Last night I experienced it for myself.

There’s usually a couple people following everything more than everyone else.  One is the quiet one, like I used to be.  Ron Fucking Swanson.  The other is the one who can have spurts of verbosity but no matter what, just laughs a lot.  That was me last night.  Ron Swanson on Snake Juice.

When you’re laughing at people when they’re stoned, they think, because you’re laughing so much, that you’re stoned out of your mind and so they laugh at you, though they are likely more stoned since they didn’t even realize you were only laughing because of how stoned they are.  Or it could be opposite of that, and you don’t even realize it.  However, when I’m stoned, I’m always convinced I’m in a state of perfect acumen.  When I’m stoned, I’m super aware of what’s going on, but last night I felt like I had no control over my body, like I’d forget it exists since I was so enwrapped within my own mind.  I’d have to break out of my mind from time to time, and try to pay attention to what I was physically doing, since my body language is the culprit that would expose how high I truly am, when I’m experiencing presence of mind rather than presence of body.  Things I say make sense.  But because people don’t always follow what I’m saying, usually because they are too stoned, they assume I’m not making any sense, and my awkward physicality only validates that opinion.  Of course, one needs to be stoned in order to think this way.

But then, what I wrote above is a rough example of the kind of shit I say when I do speak, so who the hell can blame anyone else for not following me.

To be continued…

I have no theme song for this journal entry.  Instead, I’m going to take a moment of silence to reflect upon the teachings of Ron Fucking Swanson.

 

*******

previous Grimm 218: Valentina, Internal Battles, and the Distraction of Jessica Lange http://wp.me/p41c99-16N

next Grimm 220: This Journal Entry Has a Title http://wp.me/p41c99-17z

This is the snake juice scene, with Ron Swanson dancing at the end:

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

 

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 218: Valentina, Internal Battles, and the Distraction of Jessica Lange

December 11, 2014

 

I need a vacation from people.  I used to like time to myself, and spent lots of time alone.  I’d take off and travel on sporadic, spontaneous, and random occasions.  But now I have three roommates, so I am never home alone.  I sometimes go in my room for solitude, but if Pete or Cola haven’t taken Bogart out, then he’s at my door all confused as to why I’m in there with the door closed.  He’s like a dog or a cat that way.  Something unusual throws off the routine and he gets all disoriented.

I lived alone for a while and when I was home I’d talk to myself.  I think people often talk to themselves, so it’s not a weird thing.  But here with three roommates, I find that at times when I would normally talk to myself, I catch it before I do it, so now I’m just mumbling an awful lot.  They say, what? what are you saying? what are you mumbling about?

Nothing.

I am Grimm the Mumbler.  Mumbling Grimm.  I used to be a Ramblin’ Man, but now I’m the Mumblin’ Guy.

I’m not complaining, just kind of expressing one aspect of my world that isn’t perfect.  Generally my life is good these days.  I’m busy which prevents me from thinking about things that might bring me down, like Valentina.  In that way, never being alone is probably a good thing.  External distractions are a manner by which I avoid internal destructions.

It was a year ago on November 29th that Valentina died.  I’ve been trying to ignore it, but everyone knows about it and they’ve got that concerned look in their eyes.  Except Bogart, of course, who is clueless, which is better than concerned.  No one has brought up the subject, I think they know I am avoiding the topic altogether.  I think about her every fucking day.  I think about how she would be growing, learning, developing new skills, and reaching milestones.  How she would look at me, smile, laugh, how it would feel to hold her, what she would smell like.  How my entire world would revolve around her and she would be my ultimate priority for the rest of my life.  How she would grow up and I’d have to beat up all her boyfriends and no one would ever be good enough for her.

I think of her every day, so I never expected that the anniversary of her death would be this intense.  This time last year I was in the institution.  Today is the anniversary of when Bogart arrived at the same institution and we met.  I had anticipated raising a little girl, but ended up “adopting” an insane man-puppy-dog.  The universe births strange designs.

Anyway, I’ve been struggling to avoid thoughts and discussions about Valentina, but it’s hard to contain.  That’s why I’m writing it here.  It’s too painful to keep to myself anymore, yet it would be even worse to talk to anyone about it.  I think if I did it could only be Pete.  He saw me at my worst and my weakest, so he knows, and I wouldn’t even need to say much.  But I can’t do that because I think I would just crumble and disintegrate.  Although being alone might set me off on a familiar path of self destruction, despite that I’ve accomplished so much and I have a lot of people relying on me, and my entire world now is set on a solid and dependable foundation.  Yet I feel myself needing to get away, to run away like I used to, to escape somehow.  This bothers me because my responsibilities are keeping me here, which means there are few choices in the way of how to escape.  As a result, I’m thinking about drugs and alcohol.  My abstinence had stabilized in terms of my ability to maintain it, and most times it was relatively easy.  Temptations were overcome by weighing out the consequences and affirming self-pride.  However, I’ve been feeling callous about all these positive things I’ve created in my life and in my self.  I’m beginning not to trust myself anymore, which is always disconcerting.  When you’re not able to trust yourself, then you are the least safe.

I guess it was bound to happen at some point, since I’ve been consistently less self absorbed, more reliable and mature, back to being the go-to-guy.  The go-to-mumblin’ guy.  A crash seems inevitable.  That’s not an excuse, because I’m going to keep fighting it.  I just had to let all that out.  And, I’m well aware that whatever I’m battling within myself would be far worse if I did relapse, because then I’d have to contend with negative thoughts pertaining to personal worth.

Distractions help a lot.  Things outside of me protect me from what’s inside.  Things like the people I need a vacation from, school, work, Blues Monday, or “Walking Dead” and “American Horror Story”.

Therefore, my theme song for this journal entry is “Gods and Monsters” by Lana Del Rey, but the Jessica Lange version.  Jessica Lange is captivating.  I can’t take my eyes off her when she’s on the screen, she’s so freakin’ beautiful and talented she drives me crazy and she’s 60 something years old, but I want her.  I want to make love to her, because you don’t “fuck” a lady like that, you make love to her.  I think this is Jessica Lange’s last season on “America Horror Story” which sucks, because I can’t imagine the show without her.  Anyway, I never heard of this song before I saw her sing it on the show, so I looked it up.  I’m picking it for my theme song because I think the lyrics are appropriate for what I’ve been going through lately.  There are some great lyrics that didn’t make it into the version for the show due to language.  I would’ve liked to hear Jessica Lange sing those lyrics though.  She’s so fucking hot.  I think I’m in love with her.  I’ve never even heard the original Lana Del Rey version, but as far as I’m concerned, the song only exists as sung by Jessica Lange.

And ummmm while I’m on the subject…..Jessica Lange, will you marry me?

 

*******

previous Grimm: 217: A Sh*tload About A Lot of Sh*t http://wp.me/p41c99-16b

next Grimm 219: (untitled) http://wp.me/p41c99-17f

This is the scene from the show:

This is the iTunes version which has additional lyrics:

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 84 Comments

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