Tuesday, April 24, 1990
Roger's still not talking to me. I dunno what's up. I mean, I hope he's not having second thoughts about *scribbled out*
We're back in the loft right now. God, this place looks like a dump compared to the Mews. It was nice, though. Being able to turn on the lights without them flickering every few minutes or something. Thanks, Benny.
Things have been ... weird lately. I dunno. Just weird. I was thinking earlier, too. I haven't gotten tested in weeks. I forgot, what with all this sickness insanity going on lately. And then... I dunno. I just haven't, really. I'm sort of apathetic about it.
I don't think that's a good thing.
... Oh well.
It's Collins and Angel's anniversary tonight, at any rate. Four months, I believe. You go, guys :)
April 24th, 1990
8:00pm, Eastern Standard Time
Tuesday, January 23, 1990
I haven't touched my camera in a week. That's the longest I've gone without it since I first got it... I just haven't been in the mood to. I don't know. It's Buzzline, though. I know it. It sounds paranoid, but I really think it is. They've been having me use their company cameras to get any footage so they can write off the film and everything on their taxes. Those things are fucking heavy. They weigh at least 20 pounds. Which doesn't sound like much, but compared to my, like seven-pound one... and then lug it around for a few hours... Alexi's been trying to get me to be her personal videographer or whatever. Apparently I'm good at catching the light in her hair or something... equally superficial.
Which also leads me, from my previous statement, so apologize if I've been testy with anyone over the past few days. I've been really irritable lately... Again, don't know why. So... just, yeah, if I've snapped at you at all or something. Sorry.
Okay. I'm gonna be on the fire escape for a while... then it's off to Hell... I mean, work.
January 23, 1990
6:00am, Eastern Standard Time
Friday, January 12, 1990
Alexi Darling's voice is going to grate on my sanity.
Yessss. Okay, it already is. One day and I kind of wanted to stab her with my camera. However you do that, I don't know, but I'll find out. She's driving me crazy. And she's not allowed to call me Marky anymore. What the fuck. I can hardly stand it when my friends call me that. Never mind her. Especially in that voice...
But!! Good news. I found 10 bucks on the way home! How did I do that? But yeah. I bought Roger a pack of cigarettes, cuz I know he's been wanting some for a little while now and he hasn't been able to get any. Then I got myself some food. Cuz I haven't eaten in four days (*shifty eyes*) and I've been running around for people all day. I got something from this little Mexican place. I've never eaten there before, but it tasted pretty good, despite destroying my taste buds for a week now. Oh well.
January 12th, 1990
3:00pm, Eastern Standard Time
So Joanne's and Maureen's engagement party... thing. Was yesterday.
Maureen ended up flirting with the woman serving the champagne, and her and Joanne got in a huge argument, right in front of their parents and everything. Roger missed half of it cuz he was stuffing his face with the free food. Weirdo. I must've had a weird look on my face too, cuz Kara kept laughing at me.
But yeah! So then after the two ladies stopped arguing and just walked out of the room (did they break up? I don't know. I think so...), Maureen's MOM turns to me. That woman... has always scared the shit out of me. After when we were dating, and she made a point of, when I met her, while Maureen was in the bathroom, to tell me that if I ever 'hurt her poor baby's feelings'... she knew where I lived. ...Kind of spooky. She just kind of turns to me and says that we should get back together now. Awkward.
Best part though. I think. ... Yeah, probably. We get back to the loft... and all our shit's back! Apparently Mimi 'talked' (talked...?) to Benny about everything and convinced him to end this little war. Dammit. We never even got to use Fort Boho. I still wanna throw a shoe at him. He was trying to give us some bull lease for everything... I don't know. I just paid the fuckin' rent with my first advance - four months of it. And Roger said I wouldn't get a chance to be smug again.
But now... I think Roger and Mimi are fighting because Mimi didn't tell Roger about Benny or... Something.
Angel and Collins are still thriving, though! ...We can be happy for that!
It figures the first night I have an actual bed back and an actual blanket to cover me, I can't sleep because I'm too nervous. I have to go to work today. That sounds... weird. I don't want to go to work... *sigh*
January 12, 1990
5:00am, Eastern Standard Time
Tuesday, January 9, 1990
Okay. Let's see... last time I did one of these... It was after Buzzline. *nods* Okay.
...What happened, really? Not much. I mean, I
got dressed up byhung with Angel a while the other day. Oh, yes, thank you for the little note on my... note. Kara. But, no, she didn't teach me to dance. I'm good enough with that already. *tongue*
She also... is hooking me up with someone. I don't know if she's actually talked to hi... them yet.
*heavily scribbled out*
But maybe I'll be able to get my mind off Roger...
Fort Boho is still standing. *fist in air* It will until the end of time, I say. The end of time.
January 9, 1990
9am, Eastern Standard Time
Wednesday, January 3, 1990
Okay… um… I’m not even sure right now.
Yes. Okay. So the interview… I’m glad Joanne was there. Because I was a nervous wreck. I mean, it was bad enough MAUREEN came along. Woo hoo. She wanted to… aid the creative process or something. I dunno. I just know she spent half of the time asking if her outfit was too much and making me even more nervous. She didn’t come into Alexi’s office with me and Joanne, but I still just sat there the whole time, tapping the armrests and stammering. Urgh.
I got it, though! Thank God. Lack of soul or not, it’s three grand a segment. That’s a LOT more than I was expecting. I’ll be able to pay Benny’s precious rent, buy Roger AZT…
That wasn’t the weirdest part though. Okay, so, apparently, Maureen was flirting with the secretary when we were in the meeting thing. I didn’t notice. I was kind of having in internal meltdown. But the second we’re out of the building, the two of them start at each other. I’ve never seen a cat fight before, but… damn. That was close. Maureen was accusing Joanne of going with … ME… which, did I miss something? Because last I checked, she was a lesbian… Then Joanne starts about the flirting, and they argued and fought.. and just when I think they’re going to break up…
MAUREEN FUCKING PROPOSES TO HER.
Right on the sidewalk!! Cheese and rice, talk about surreal. I mean, really… that… that can’t have been real. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.
I’ll be in my room…
January 3, 1990
7pm, Eastern Standard Time
I can't do this. I really can't do this. I'm not going. I can't go. I'm gonna fuck it up. I know it. We're all gonna have to live on the streets and everyone's gonna hate me and then we're gonna starve to death just cuz I can't get a fuckin'-
Okay. Calm. Calm. Breathe. I'm leaving... in a few minutes. Joanne's helping. She's gonna be my lawyer for free (Probono... or whatever that's called. I didn't even know I'd need one...) AND she got me some clothes from the thrift store for now so I'd look... somewhat presentable.
Except it's all for nothing because I'm gonna fuck it all up! *flails*
Calm. Shit, fuck. I gotta be calm. Calm.
I don't wanna sell my soul! Don't let them take my soul!!
January 3, 1990
Two p.m., Eastern Standard Time
Tuesday, January 2, 1990
*lots of scribbled marks* *hardly distinguishable*
I want my old notebook back. I'd feel a lot safer. I really don't want anybody reading about some of the stuff I wrote. Like about secret stuff... like Nani. And Roger. And Sam and... And... Jake.
Roger and Mimi are doing it on the floor. Like. You can just picture me flailing wildly. RIGHT THERE. I'm sitting in our bathtub right now. It's kind of weird... I haven't touched this since... April. I always used the shower. It's not as private - there's no fucking curtain around the shower. What's up with that?? - but it didn't feel creepy to sit in. It's not working very well as a hiding place either. This room echoes.
It's like having a fucking porn movie playing in the next room and I can't find the remote. And it's ... really turning me on. I do not like this predicament. Hand... keeps wanting... to go down pants... Must resist...
Still dunno the time
Monday, January 1, 1990
So I'm sitting on the loft floor, half-naked, shivering and freezing ... It sounds like the start to a Twilight Zone episode or something. 'Start with the end! Work your way back to it!'
All right, all right, all right. I'll start from the beginning - then I know I won't miss anything.
So the night actually started out... semi-decent. I didn't dress up, as promised. I didn't drink any, though, either... which was weird for me. But. *shrug* I just mostly filmed everyone's good times. And it was! I mean, a good time. Struck midnight and we watched the ball drop on the TV screen in the window of that little electronic hock store instead of turning around and walking a few blocks towards it ourselves, haha. But that's East Villagers for you. Had to watch everyone that wasn't me suck face for a few minutes to celebrate it. *shakes out hands* No biggy. I'm fine. It's only been a month, seven days, four hours and 23 minutes since I've gotten any action that wasn't self-procured. I can deal.
Resolutions. I got them ALL on film. Documentation right here. *taps camera* I'm holding you all to these...
And don't ask me what mine is. Cuz it doesn't exist. This isn't actually my new year, bitches. Comes with being Jewish. Looks like you'll all have to wait until Rosh Hashanah.
We all kind of walked around for a while, singing loud songs and getting drunk. Lots of groping and a rather feisty ass-grabbing that goes to Ms. Joanne. Maureen was the first of the night to steal the camera and try to film me. Apparently, she's the kiss of death too. She wound it too tightly and snapped the film I had inside *facepalm* So I only really got half of what I wanted to - I didn't want to have to fix it right there so I just shoved it into my bag the rest of the night. She kept bringing up that sleazy news show that keeps calling me. Buzzline. Ugh. I'm not picking it up. Ever. That's selling out. I'm not a sell out. Yet.
Oh, wait wait wait. It gets better. So we finally stumble back home around three a.m, right? Padlock on the door. Thanks, Benny. You make us more and more willing to see your side of things. So Angel - you go, girl - smashes it open with a motherfuckin' trash can like she's in a Bond movie or something. We go upstairs...? And all our shit's gone. ALL of it. Even down to my fucking notebook. I love it how all our shit's gone and that's the first thing I worry about. If he reads that... I swear to God... Death. Death, pain, destruction.
So right now... we're technically squatters. But where the hell else do we have to go? Angel and Collins had some extra blankets and sleeping bags lying around their apartment they let us borrow for a while, but they only had three - one for me, one for Kara, one for Roger and Mimi. Roger wasn't letting me give up mine for him and Mimi, even though they need it more. Joke's on him - I gave it to them once they fell asleep together in one of the sleeping bags.
Which is where the half-naked thing comes in. Because somebody spilled champagne on my jeans. Sitting in boxers in the middle of January probably isn't the smartest thing to do, but who the fuck is caring. I just hugged my knees and sat in the windowsill.
This also means I'm going to have to take that Buzzline job anyways. Insert a long string of expletives here. My interview's Wednesday, and it can't come soon enough. I'm about to strangle the nearest person here. I hadn't eaten in a few days again to pay for Roger's AZT, seeing as we killed that money from that news show buying my riot footage in the span of negative five minutes. I'm gonna have to go a few more now. But I don't care. I can deal.
I've just been sitting here, thinking for at least an hour now.
I can't sleep.
January 1, 1990
Who the fuck knows what time it is?
Benny took the clock.
Sunday, December 31, 1989
Walking in on Mimi and Roger. Um. Awkward. It felt… very weird. I dunno. Like, I didn’t want to… Half of me just kind of felt like ripping Mimi off of him and screaming at her. “No, he’s mine! Let him fuck ME.” And I really do not know why. That was just… not me. I ran out fast… took a leaf from Roger’s book and took a few minutes to sit on the roof.
We’re going out in a few minutes, all of us – to Times Square. I hope I can get some nice footage tonight. Maybe have some … actual fun. Rumor has it that they’re all trying to get that Kara girl from the Catscratch club to kiss me at midnight. I mean… she’s cute and real nice and … but I dunno. I just don’t like her that way. If that makes sense. Yeah, it does.
My rambling is costing my paper. This writing’s getting progressively smaller. I’m gonna end now, while I’ve still got room for a timestamp.
Shit. I don’t have room for a timestamp.
Saturday, December 30, 1989
Okay, so that note in the bathroom did nothing. Oh, well. It was worth a shot. I've just been... bad enough lately without having to hear all the fucking going on in other rooms. *shifty eyes* My hand's cramping up, guys, come on. I wasn't kidding when I said 'mucho masturbation' the other night.
So it's New Years Eve tomorrow. Woo? I dunno. I don't normally do anything for it - Roger and I never really went out; we just stayed in and got wasted. Collins would normally be at some college or another or something. I mean, the one year Roger and April went out, I still stayed in by myself. I don't really like public shit like that. I don't know. I hope I'm not dragged out this year. But I do think everyone's going. Times Square and all that. I'm not dressing up. I'm bringing the third eye.
I've been hiding behind that thing a lot. I have to deal with less shit that way... I dunno. It's weird. It makes it feel like I'm watching a movie rather than dealing with these problems myself. It definitely makes things easier. I've been starting to feel naked without it. Like there's too much of me there.
This sounds dumb. I'm just gonna shut up.
Happy New Years Eve's Eve.
December 30, 1989
5 a.m., Eastern Standard Time
Thursday, December 28, 1989
Maureen's protest was... interesting... Lots of mooing. Even more smashed bottles and arrests. I feel kind of bad that after everything, the riot kind of outdid her performance, but oh well. I did get it sold for a segment on the 11 o'clock news! So that's some money in our pockets at least. I can afford to get Roger some more AZT - he was running low. Not enough for Benny's precious rent yet, though... We're fucked on that. We're royally fucked.
The afterparty was... memorable. We were just kind of trying to piss off 'the investors', talking about anything controversial we could think of. Mucho masturbation is damn right. I think they left right about when sodomy came up and Angel started practically sexing Collins up the ass.
Yes. Thank you for the High Holy Day inability reference there, Roger.
But I got him back. Musetta's Waltz indeed.
I came back to an empty loft. It's... been very quiet around here the past few days. I mean, with Maureen gone and Collins living with Angel now and Roger spending most of his time with Mimi. But, I mean, whatever. I just... film. *shrug* Hang out. It's fine. I pulled out some of Roger's old band cassettes and shit. He'd kill me if he found out, but there was nothing better to do. Some of this is still pretty good. *grin* I'd forgotten about a lot of it.
December 28th, 1 a.m., Eastern Standard Time
Monday, December 25, 1989
((MUAHA. I finally remembered the date. *fist in air*))
I write too much... oh well.
So I show up to the 11th Street Lot to help Maureen with the equipment... and she's not there. It's so typical. I should be expecting it from her by now, but... whatever. No, instead JOANNE is there. ... Ah, awkward much. She doesn't know anything about equipment, but she is a Harvard grad for law. Or at least that's what I heard her muttering when I got there. She started going off, saying I'd never understand how she felt about everything with Maureen, and we had a nice... 'talk' about how her new honey really is. Irony: she has yet to discover the true wonders of 'pookie'. Have fun, Joanne.
Then I RAAANNNN all the way to Life Support, since I did promise Angel I'd go. I love it how I'm bending over backwards for two people I've just met today. I wish Roger had shown up, but *shrug* he didn't. I didn't really expect him to - he was never really into the stuff like that. Oh well. I taped a bit of it for this new documentary thing I've been developing. I'm getting more and more excited about this - I hope it doesn't come out like shit when I finish. We decided to go hang at the Life after for a while, the lot of them. I felt left out though, being the only one without... Yeah.
December 25th, 1989
Five p.m. Eastern Standard Time
December 25th, 1989... 10am (Eastern Standard Time)
Merry Christmas, guys.
I was really worried... Collins never came back last night. I think he went out for a walk or something? I dunno. It scared the shit out of me. And then he shows up this morning - with that drummer he's been looking for!! He... she's very gorgeous, Coll, you lucky ass. She just comes in and starts fucking ... singing and dancing - it was amazing. Then she drummed for us before the two of them went off for a Life Support meeting. Apparently she has AIDS too... kind of morbidly convenient.
On the not so bright side... Maureen fired me as her production manager two days ago. Apparently I'm not letting her be 'free-spirited' enough. Or something. I dunno. Then she calls up today, saying she hired Joanne who has no idea what the hell she's doing. *sigh* I'm gonna have to go fix that. Marky, Jewish Boy Wonder, saving the day.
But bright side again! Ish. Yeah, it is. I went to get tested for HIV yesterday... just in case. They said nothing's showed up yet, if it's going to. So that's good. I filmed a lot after. Yesterday, I decided that I'm just gonna start filming without a script... you know, see if anything comes of it... 'stead of my old shit... First shot I got was of Roger tuning the Fender - here's to hoping he starts playing again.
Another paragraph?! But, yes. Speaking of Roger... Apparently, that girl downstairs, the dancer from the Catscratch club, came over last night... She was asking him to light her candle? I dunno. Innuendo? But he was going on and on about her, her eyes and her smile and her body. He said the only downside was the fact that she's... a junkie. Not the best thing for him... but maybe she can clean up. Maybe he can finally be happy again for the first time since April.
Looks like everybody's getting what I wished for them. *sad smile*
Thursday, December 21, 1989
It's snowing!! *squee*
Less light note:
You know... if I just threw my body out the window... left my brain all splattered and my guts all steaming out on the sidewalk, I wouldn't have to finish shooting all of these stupid films that no one wants to see. You know? Maureen could come by and kick my dead body on the sidewalk or something. And then you guys could all be freeee from my random Jewish nana-like worryings.
Yes... Yes, quite.
*evil, plotting finger-y together-ness*
It's Christmas Eve's eve's eve's... *counts* eve. I completely missed Hanukkah. Mum and Dad'll kill me. But whatever. I don't care, really - not with the craziness of this last month. Mmmf. I just hope everyone has a good Christmas at any rate.
Hope Collins finds that devil drummer! *grin*
Hope Roger finds somebody good for him...
Hope... *twitch* Maureen and Joanne are having LOVELY times together...
...Me? I just want to make it through the next year.
And to stop thinking about
Wednesday, December 13, 1989
Dec... Yeah, December... I think... 11th.... Um... Fucker, who cares.
I don't like this 'cold' thing anymore. Nope, winter can be over. I've decided.
I'd have to say it started last night when I started coughing so much I couldn't sleep and my nose wouldn't stop running. So I finally pass out at, like four in the morning... and I sleep until two. When do I ever sleep until two? Whatever this is, it's fucking with my head. Stumble out at two and try to get to the bathroom but I end up being sick. Allllll over the loft floor. Of course, by then I've used up so much energy that I just collapse on the couch. I feel like my skin's too fucking hot for my body - I'm sweating. A lot. And yet I can't stop shaking. The fuck?
So now I'm hugging my knees on the couch and wondering where the hell Roger is. He might be randomly up on the roof. He goes up there a lot.
I have to clean up my vomit.
Thursday, November 30, 1989
I have turned my ex-girlfriend into a lesbian!! *spasm*
*deep breath* I need drinks. Lots of drinks. I need to forget things.
I need to stop fucking thinking about Roger. It's not gonna happen. Get over it. One night stand. Just another notch in his belt. *nod*
I ripped up all of my drawings last night. They look like shit. I should just fucking burn them and get it over with. All my film too. It's all shit. Everything. I can't do anything right besides make people feel better about themselves. "Hey, 'least I'm not as lame as Mark!"
*more spasm-y hand gestures*
I'll be in my room.
Thursday, November 23, 1989
Dammit. I just found out that Collins ate all the pie on Thanksgiving. That's not cool. I anger.
Roger was pissed at me all day. What the fuck. I don't know why. What the hell did I do? *sigh* Just when I think I'm getting him to talking again... I was so excited when he went out with Collins on his birthday - it's the first time in six fucking months. I was kind of upset for some reason that I wasn't the one to finally convince him, but ... whatever. He was out and about and that's all I cared. I jsut let him chillax with Coll a while and talk. I can't get shit out of him anymore, so...
I invited Maureen to come over yesterday, but she never showed up. I'm worried - I hope something bad didn't happen...
I drew Ro I drew a por I drew a random picture this morning. It came out cool. I just didn't feel like filming, not when I'm just getting this random footage I can't even use. We're already really tight on money - I don't want to waste money on ... stupid film that comes out like shit. Pencils and paper are cheaper. Or napkins. AND HUMAN BLOOD, MUAHAH. Okay, no. But I've been feeling really tired lately anyways... I haven't had the energy to do much. Besides Maureen. NNNN. *fist in air* Okay. First time in a while. I'm excited. Leave me alone.
November 14th, 6pm, Eastern Standard Time
Friday, November 10, 1989
I know I'm pissing off Roger. I have been. I keep bugging him about his AZT and all that shit. I just locked myself in my room a few hours to let him blow it off. Got punched way too many times for my liking back when he was going through withdrawl.
I started another script. Wrote three whole pages of it, aaaandddd it ... blows! Or maybe it doesn't. I don't know. I think it does. Maybe I'll test it on the Lumbering Beast later. If he doesn't stop fucking slamming shit around...
In other news, I think Maureen's cheating on me. Well, okay, I know. I don't want to know, but I know. She hasn't talked to me in days. And she's getting more detatched. I keep getting more clingy. I hate it. But I know she's gonna dump me. Don't even frigging know how I started dating her in the first place.
Whatever. Time to charm the sullen. Put on the happy mask, right?
November 10th, nine pm, Eastern Standard Time
Friday, November 3, 1989
These have been a few uneventful days. Well, after Halloween, anyway. I stayed home with Roger after all, after the best costume suggestion was a pirate. What is it with Maureen and the eyeliner...? Um, yeah. Massive hangovers ensued. Not cool. Especially since I woke up naked, face covered in war paint and with a massive... well, you know. Roger decided to drop a few pots on the floor somewhere around one. He's always sobered up faster than me. Urgh. Then he threw Tylenol at my head. I don't like Halloween.
Still can't think of any screenplay ideas. I might need to come up with a new concept. Maybe ... random shit. Without a script.
No, that's dumb.
I'll figure out something.
November 3rd, four pm, Eastern Standard Time.
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