Click HERE to view the Premium Art Deadlines List.

Monday, March 5, 2007

Tuesday, January 27, 1982

More arguing in bed with Simone last night. The same old stuff. Who's
ahead of who. Who did what, when, and where, to whom. It goes on and
on. What is it about? I can never remember. Nothing of importance.
But I had to do something to end the rather nasty circle of blame and
counter-blame we were in. At first I just told her to go home, get out
of here. Then I pushed her a little. She resisted, not wanting to
really go. Then I just decide to turn my back and be quiet. To stop
fighting with her and say nothing. She goes on. I tell her to shutup
and go to sleep. Then the whole mood changes. She starts to cry and
tell me how love is more important to her than what goes on now. I
surrender also, turn to hold her and talk. She says that wanting to be
loved, and her fear of rejection has created a lot of difficulties for
her. And there was more, but the mood was totally different. We were
not struggling against each other. The voice and words were softer and
more genuine. It was much better than lying there, on our backs,
staring at the ceiling, feeling tense, hitting back at each other with
past pasties, accusations, meanness, and all the other things that
people say to the other when they hate, and want to come out ahead,
and feel superior, and self-righteous. Its still in me. Today, more
fights inside my head. It carries me away. A life filled with
imaginary fights, and imaginary victories, and tension, and no real
resolution. I get knocked off my feet so easily by these past events.
Not enough satisfaction now? Not enough security now? I give in to
this mood and feel like crying. A lump in my throat, and a dam at my
eyes stops it. Suddenly I am thinking about Otto and the time he was
on TV with Eva and the moderator bit her finger. I saw it in Der
Speigel about two and one-half years ago. Rudiger and Virginia were
staying with me at Hampshire Place. He was very sick and Virginia and
I did all the work. I am a bit paralized at the moment. So much work
to do, and so many projects I want to get going. I've just talked with
Simone on the phone. Something is still between us. I could feel l it
jump up from time to time as we spoke. A little thing would set me
off or some thing I say upsets her. It gets a little tense. Mostly we
drop it. There is a new sort of defensiveness about her attitude
toward me. A little cooler. A little more matter of fact. A little
more definite. A little sharper. A feeling that she is putting a
subtle form of distance between us. She still sees it as my having
hurt her. With no indication of her understanding that it was just
something that I wanted. It is only a game, a trick, played on her.
It was not something real. We didn't really want to do what we did.
It was only to get at her. I point out how Michael is showing more
interest in her. That she is threatening to leave me before I have a
chance to reject her. She hasn't done that for some time. Her stern
voice warns me of other consequences if I continue on the same track.
You don't understand yet, do you, she says. But it is perfectly clear.
She doesn't want to have it any other way. She wants things arranged
so it won't happen again. At just this moment I feel a shifting in my
attitude toward her. One of not really caring what she thinks. A
willingness to take my chances. A strange thing. At the moment it
doesn't matter if she stays or goes away. A new feeling about her. A
small, insecure, petty, nasty, conniving baby. Willing to throw away
anything to avoid those feelings. I will be brutal and give her
another chance to chuck it! Then it is a question of should I plan
something or just let it happen? But not I start to soften a bit. Why
do it anyway? I just don't want to live like this, to have to think
every moment about who might be bothered by what I do. Then I imagine
we are living together, and she doesn't want Linda there. A plot to
find another place, with Linda, and then move. They would not know
anything till the day it was to happen. People are so easy to deceive.
Only by revealing everything can one avoid being deceived. Last night
she told me the story of Renee and Gary. They are or have been, under
the impression that I am related to the Gardners of the Isabella
Stewart Gardner Museum. I have told them about the private quarters in
the Museum that are available to members of the family. Also, that
someday Simone and I would go there with them. A few days ago they
went looking for the private quarters and asked several people there
about me. Nobody knew anything. The workers there said the person who
said these things must be psychotic. Renee came to Simone yesterday
with some very bad news. It was that I had deceived her about my
relationship to the Museum. She told Renee the truth today. Renee was
pissed and said it made her look like a fool. She was a fool. Its so
easy. I noticed a flushed, hot feeling in my face. I get it when
something makes me mad and then I hold back. Its like holding down
something that wants to explode. My hands are quite cold in
comparison. Sunday evening I was having fearful fantasies about
Simone. That she would attack me. It would happen very suddenly. I
kept looking over my shoulder for her. One thing that has not really
come out in the open, but something she keeps hinting at, and never
saying directly. Namely, she doesn't want IT to happen again. She has
not asked me straight out. Should I be brutal and say I won't stop it
from happening again, or lie and say, or waffle, about its happening
again? I'm sure the possibility will present itself again. What should
I do? See if its ok to enjoy myself? I don't know how to say this. Its
getting to be like a well thought out plan that will go awry on the
first step. No, even thinking of the plan is the first wrong step.
Very strange how my face is so hot. How do I tell the difference from
fantasies that arise naturally, spontaneously, and those that I
willfully create? The latter are not nearly so interesting as the
former. Reading about John O'Hara yesterday. If I become a famous and
rich writer will I also gets lots of sex? I certainly find it pushing
me on, trying to write better. But this fantasy is different from
others about being famous and getting lots of women. Its more
realistic. Or so it seems to me. How so, the reader asks. I don't know
exactly, but probably women would get fixated on me as a character,
and not because of something like money. Does that make sense? How do
ideas like this get into people in the first place?

Comments: Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]





<< Home

Click HERE to view the Premium Art Deadlines List.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Subscribe to Posts [Atom]