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Leonardo believes he was Jesus-Christ in a past life, he even tried to convince me today that he did not have a God-Like complex. He also believes he was Leonardo Da Vinci, Mozart and Beethoven. His faith in God saved him for the last 25 years where he was all lone and was backstabbed by all his friends who ended up stealing everything he had. And yet, that guy has produced music which is about
He could have been my new boyfriend, but I would need more than an assurance that he will be rich one day, I would need love. And I already have love. I cannot abandon my poor little Stephen in England. I wonder what he is doing right now.
Sleeping probably, whenever I write in the evening, everyone I ever known is sleeping. I might as well be in China, I would not be more disconnected with the real world than in California.
8 April 2006
This is the third book I am writing whilst in Los Angeles. I did flirt with the idea that it should be part of my other non-fictional book, however that other book is now a brick, mostly about what happened at work. And now the title has been established, “Corporate America, If there ever was a hell on Earth, this is it”. So it is clear that this present book can no longer be part of it. People will want to read it to find out about working in an American Corporation, not my flirting in Los Angeles with either that actor/musician or Hollywood. If success comes from that film script, this book might actually turn out to be my most interesting so far. Or else, the story of a another failure in Los Angeles might eventually be a curiosity to some obscure fans I have attracted over the years, a cult following of Anarchists I believe, and gay people, most of them unable to read English anyway.
So I was a bit desperate that for a long time I had nothing to write in this book, since my life in Los Angeles has been plain boring. I go to work and come back home to write about it and read sci-fi books. The latest by Arthur C. Clarke and Stephen Baxter. A book that received very bad critics, from hardcore fans, and yet I find the book fascinating so far. Just to show you how your fans can let you down badly for no good reason. The first critic must have said he hated it, and the rest follow suit, all singing the same song, since none of them are capable of any independent thought or opinion.
And then I got a few calls in the last few days from Leonardo. Well, if nothing happens in my life, his has certainly gone into quite a tangent. After the break-in
I finally got out of the Leonardo that they had sex. I don’t know why he would not admit to it before, but tonight he somehow felt like admitting it. Of course, I have been quite ingenious about it, spoke abut my boyfriend in London just before, how both my boyfriend and my only friend ended up having a puppy in their house, causing havoc as soon as I am on the phone with them. Leonardo just inherited a small pit-bull, can you believe. The only illegal dog in existence in just about every country worldwide, except of course America. For the record, it is a pit-bull that ate the hand of Leonardo, almost destroying his musical career in the process, sending him into a spin of destruction that lasted a few years in Santa Barbara, and caused his dog’s death, the love of his life.
Anyway, after mentioning my boyfriend, I kind of suggested that we were not exactly an item, so if he had sex with the kid, why not say so? It was hard, I had to not sound like a jealous and hysterical girlfriend. I am anyway detached enough that it was possible.
So in the last two weeks they had sex three times. Apparently no display of affection, no cuddling together, Leonardo did not even get his disk sucked. It is him who gave three blow jobs, while the Kiddo covered his head under the sheet, seemingly thinking of some other girl in order to get a hard on. The peak of manipulation, you’ve got to give him that, that kid might not have any brain, he is still a master in getting what he wants from anyone he meets.
In a way I thought that perhaps this will unfreeze Leonardo, and get him to actually enjoy sex with me, if ever this gets back on the menu, and I’m pretty certain it won’t. However, when I asked hi if he actually enjoyed it, remembering that I thought it was unlikely the guy would ever give me a blow job, he said that he did not in a way, but in another way he did. Weird. He says he his attracted to the bad boy image of his partner. Also that he is most aware that nothing will come out of this and still believe that soon he will no longer see the Kiddo for many months.
93 Though I am not exactly jealous, it did hurt me a bit. Enough that I decided to break my habits of not drinking anything over the weekends and cracked opened my first beer. To see if it would inspire me a few lines. In my second fictional book which I already considered finished. But a book is not finished until my life changes beyond recognition, like moving back to London. And so it might be a long book indeed, I have another two months to suffer here, while Stephen sorts himself out, and find either money or a new job.
It is quite a story we are building now, the Leonardo and I. Might be a full book after all. God this would have hurt me if I had been in love, and yet I still feel betrayed because the guy has tried hard to get to me, he admitted to being in love with me, and yet as soon as the Kiddo came back into is life, he jumped into bed with him. And of course, this would have been unstoppable, even if we now had the most fantastic affair, which would have been if he did not have a psychological blockage about sex in the first place. And God knows now what my feelings for Stephen in England would have been. I would have been condemned to remain in L.A., working for the company from hell. Now at least I still love my baby and I have my way out to make it all bearable. Thank God I was able to distance myself from him. Which was not exactly difficult, the guy calls me all the time to tell me his problems, and he repeats invariably the same shit over and over again, mostly either about his Kiddo, or his successful writer in Hollywood, or his two other successful friends actors and writers, and I feel like he has nothing new to tell, that this is it, I played all his records to death and can no longer stand it. Not hard, when the music he his making sounds like Celine Dion.
You tire quickly when it is over the radio and everywhere on TV any minute of the day, and seems to play forever.
I’ve thinking about finishing our film script myself. It is obvious anyway that while the Kiddo is in his life, there is simply no way he will write another line. Too busy, as he say, with his experiment, learning from a sad screwed up mind, pretending that it is an inspiration for his art. I don’t doubt it, his best song was inspired by the kid. Just from Leonardo’s ramblings about it, I could myself write the lyrics of a whole album tonight, if I had a bottle of wine, Porto would be better. I only have beer, and don’t intend to drink ten tonight, so instead I’ll write here and might write a poem or two.
On my way to work every morning, I have to cross the parking lot of a shopping center, completely empty in the morning. Every time I reach that bit of open
Leonardo was still saying tonight that soon I would have that huge house in the mountains, near that Mulholland Drive, and sometimes I believe that if that film script gets sold and made, it could certainly happen. And then, that stupid conference business I intend to go back to London to start, is a big waste of time.
I can’t afford however to bank in his lucid dreams, even if he states that they all come true. The last one about him being in the Kiddo’s house and talking to his father about his career in music about to take off, came true this week. However, for the future of the Kiddo, he has two possibilities. Either a fatal car accident, or an hostage situation from which Leonardo will have to cancel a concert to go to and negotiate with the police the liberation of the hostages. All of this will end in everyone being killed, including the Kiddo, and quite possibly Leonardo, unless somehow he can prevent it, but lately none of his lucid dreams have turned differently from what was supposed to happen, making us believe that he is incapable of changing the future he sees. But having to possibilities for the Kiddo’s death, tells me that finally the future might not be set in stone. His clairvoyance gift shows that there are still different possible futures, unless the Kiddo does not die in that car accident after all. Which is also possible. Has he seen his death there or not? I’m not sure.
Should be interesting to find out if everything I am writing here will come true.
Should not be hard to find out even if I go back to London, his father is busy writing his adopted son’s life on a daily basis, turns it into bestselling books and successful movies. He already got $250,000 for that last film, and got a percentage of the profits of the film, played by great actors. Somehow I feel that I would have written the exact same book, and none of this would have happened. It pays to be connected and have some background in Hollywood already. No one would think of turning my French novel set in Paris, which really is very similar to Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code, into a multi-million dollar blockbuster. Well, the book is not exactly similar, but certainly touches on many similar topics. Enough that for a while I thought he read my book, but I think we read the same non-fictional books. Over the years I successfully convinced myself 95 that my novel must be crap, it sold fewer copies than my other books, never even got one critic anywhere, and when fans contact me, it is never about that novel.
But no I feel that it was quite an achievement and I should be proud of it. I know how to do it, I did it before. I should get to write another one. Even if I know that another one in French would not get me anywhere. I must have read more books than Dan Brown to write that novel, and I still managed not to steal everything I read, enough to be sued a few time like he did. Of course, I would not want to destroy the man, I am in awe and inspired by his books, I will use his formula for my next novel, easy enough, all his books are constructed the same way, and it is very similar to what I did in my first novel, though perhaps I was not as faced paced as him, and I was going in many more taboos. Might explain why I haven’t got mainstream after all. I’ll always be a marginal, an anarchist. People might need to be cryptologists or symbolists to read my books, the characters in Dan Brown’s books would be good candidate readers, they are always that sort of people.
14 April 2006
I’ve been going through some sort of crisis today. Been thinking of suicide and all. I told the Leonardo when he called. He suggested coming here, I deflected that idea. Now I wish I had not. I would have fall into his arms with deep love, as if nothing ever came before him, and nothing after him would ever come. I guess he missed his big chance with me. Tonight I was vulnerable, I won’t be tomorrow.
It is rare that I would so openly admit that I wish to die, and today I certainly did, twice at work, and on the phone to Leonardo. I’ve got to be careful, I’ve got to keep these state of mind to myself. I don’t need help, I don’t need reassurance, no one can help me, when I’m in those states of mind. It is not a cry for help. It is, but I’m beyond expecting a savior from the outside. Not of this world anyway.
And yet, he offered to come over here, and said clearly, to take me in his arms.
Maybe this is what I ultimately need right now, I don’t know. I would not spit on that, that’s for sure. I’m so desperate, and so alone. One of those things about human nature, that need to not be alone, to share our lives with someone else. I don’t like it, I would like to free myself from it. It seems to me that we were preprogrammed for that kind of shite, to insure humanity’s future, and yet, I’m gay, and yet, I still feel that need with another man, and yet, it could never insure 96 humanity’s future. I wish to be beyond that programming, not feel that deep need for affection, love, sex, etc. I am beyond the programming, which might explain why I wish to die, to escape it, escape the design, what was expected of me, even if along the way something went wrong with me, and that I am, as many say, going against nature. Who want to follow nature anyway? Who programmed us in the first place? No need to follow that need blindly, no need to fall into the trap of what we were supposed to be and do. I’m beyond all that. I’ll go beyond the programming, I’ll understand beyond God, I will show the light at the end of the endless tunnel, I’ll make it all clear somehow, that great design, and prove that we do not need to fall into the trap, follow what our nature should be, rebel against all authority, and finally be free. And that’s perhaps what has been bothering me so much. Find that ultimate freedom, which can only come from a full understanding of what we are all about, assuming we’re not in the first place just victims of Darwin’s theory, and following our most basic nature and needs. We may after all just be a by-product of something else, something greater, something perhaps insignificant, who knows? We’re certainly no more special than any other animal, insect or microscopic bug on this planet, all this came to this world perhaps as some by-product, unplanned stuff, in a world worried with something much greater, that we will never know anything about.
And who cares anyway? Especially when our lives have been reduced to be the slave of others, in a corporate hierarchy, where everyone control everyone else?
Meaningless, all of it. Makes no sense to me.
If there is anything greater than me in this universe, I never even got a glimpse of it. Not even one hint to follow and investigate. We’re very alone down here, which suggest that we were not supposed to be in the first place, we’re just a byproduct, insignificant, not supposed to be, and it does not matter anyhow.