Well, at least it didn't then. Obviously. But I still made the grevious mistake of trying to save/rescue certain ex-girlfriends-turned-ebonics-speaking-badgirl simply as a friend and one key person whose house she just happened to break into and show up in my house one night (at 5 a.m. on a Sunday morning with a club-girl girlfriend of her's no less) after I hadn't heard a word from her in the 2 years since we had broken up.
Since I was the one she ran to because she knew I was the too nice/generous/savior/protective type and happened to be the only person that knew her extremely well before and knew her family from back when we dated, when she showed up in the condition and behaving the way she was it shocked, hurt, and traumatized me.
But I dated her for over a year. She lived with me. We used to go to the gym together everyday and she was both the Baby and Mama Chicken, Lulu, Boosthie the Boosehound, The Baby Minx...blah, blah, blah - basically that same "I'm that Cat." formula where I can take a blank slate or object or even imperfect and especially hooman-and-malleable character and paint them in the same ^ way my mind just apparently "oversees" things naturally.
At any rate, she was just Candy, my normal respectable "trophy" girlfriend. It was never marriage bound. The conditions under which we initially met and knew each other from were totally another one of those I-should-have-known-better things, but her ex-boyfriend just moved out one day leaving her with an apartment in Hollywood she couldn't afford, and I had been saddled with the burden of knowing her through her boyfriend, that I knew from modeling, but he was always out partying with the guys and hooking up with random chicks while I of course am in-real-life a far more Morris-like-cynical-and-disappointed-with-the-caliber-and-behavioral-dynamics-in-general wallflower at bars and nightclubs prior to the evolution into the dance club elements with all its (snickers) completely different and otherworldly superstar dancing machine dynamics.
Point is, they had been together all through college and blah, blah, blah, so when she had a 9-5 job (ironically) as a psych something for troublesome kids that have come from extremely broken homes etc. (turns out she was using her college degree option and career path [before she had the freedom to dance/be a cheerleader :] to understand what happened to her in her childhood that I never knew about until after she had put me literally through hell and back several times) and staying at home sleeping (while also leading me to believe she was the 'normal' one and not the party girl) while Jon was out partying and cheating on her everynight as I had to drop him off on the nights he didn't stay elsewhere, when he just left like he did I felt bad for her because he had also been screwing her best friend Jen that was otherwise seemingly the only one there to consol her at the time as this 7+ year life plan of theirs blew apart at the same time the club scene crowd/influence was inching in an E was an every weekend thing for some of them.
I had just finished inheriting/adopting the 4-bedroom house in Eagle Rock fully from having previously shared it with my half-brother and his now-wife. I had remodeled it up to my bare-minimal "complete show off" standards at the time (based on my comically modest-but-consistent $10 tax-free gifted token donation from the parents plus an entire list of interesting random odd/supplemental jobs), but I remember it well, because when Candy first saw my house I had just finished rebuilding my living room entertainment system around the $2000 60"TV I acquired using a credit card (bad Allen!) knowing I could pay it off in the timeframe and use that 0% interest to boost my credit score in the meantime (back when I also had stocks and also still gave a f7ck). I remember the highest priority/toughest decision I had at the time was to decide between using that money to get the TV or a hot tub...for the upper-level of the concrete-slabbed living room (yes, like in Coming to America).
I went with the TV. I paid it off in time. I ended up dating Candy after I was just trying to help her (moved her stuff, cats and all) after the whatever with Jon happened by renting her a bedroom at the opposite corner of the top floor for $300 a month.
It paid the bills. We had fun. I just wanted a normal life 'escape' from the single-in-LA-compared-to-far-more-safe-feeling-Texas-A&M so I go remain securely focused on my blind token fledgling conquest of Hollywood. We got along truly surprisingly well when she still had a normal job and especially after she quit and was just doing random background-learning work with me (got her her SAG vouchers on the first job) or taking our time to do random stuff and/or just hangout all day.
That was cool. That was normal. That was me. That was us.
I never was really attracted to Candy, and never remotely would have fathomed we would end up dating for as long as we did when that was never the intent at the start and I even told her not to drag us into anything together unless she was sincere about it.
Which she may have been. In bursts. But whatever, it was cool enough coming from a WTF worst case scenario. Turns out the reason Jon rationalized cheating on her so chronically was she had cheated on him during the time when she had moved to LA while he was still in Florida. With another friend of theirs. Which I didn't know when offering my help and deciding to side with Candy instead of Jon because the party crowd Jon was running with was way too fast for my tastes anyway. I thought I chose the lesser of the evils and was lending my time, assistance, loyalty and resources to something that needed, cared, and would value and appreciate me for doing that.
Some people are apparently just naturally much sweeter and more like me than others. Candy was less sweet than me. But even after finding that out, we had already established a safe base relationship, so everything was cool...
...until we went out, got in an argument at The Standard, and she didn't come home that night...
From the day when she finally showed up again the pathological nature of her answers, responses, silence, running-away, giving answers that didn't add up gave me all the heart wrenching knowledge needed...but she lived with me...and although what she did, what she apparently had been doing, and what she would do in the months and years to follow was even more beyond-the-pale-of-words-as-an-accurate-medium-of-communication...I still had the obligation to be civil.
Poor me.
Turns out she cheated on me with her ex, and the entire comparative behavioral worlds and webs he had touched by then and were like compared to my own investment, risk, and loyalty were just that much more insult to an unthinkable and completely hidden from me life-resetting injury.
When the Trust/Team dynamic is violated in an intimate relationship, although some people may be or do or have or whatever, when you're me, and someone crosses that line and the trust is gone - it's over.
And THAT is the part that hurts on principle and respect because it's simply a matter of character and behavior and protection of the person that has invested all this time and energy and circumstantial context of their existence in with you....and then they pull some totally beyond stupid and unnecessary blindside sh7t making even the entire f7cking off-ramp dynamic something totally uncool, hurtful, regretful, and awkward when the entire point, logic, methodology, reasoning, and behavior I engage in in any intimate capacity or habitual routine with other is built merely around protective caution, honesty, communication, tolerance, blah, blah, blah so we can part as friends or indifferents but certainly not enemies...
Well, to make a long story short, yes Lulu totally f7cked that relationship, which was no big deal because I was actually much happier and better off within just a few months.
And then along came Angie...I got lost in that club blur for a few months following her insane trail of Alien related pathology...before just giving up on dating and women period for awhile while locking myself away in my house on the hill with the cameras going...
Which is where I was, isolated, in the middle of the WTFxwhhhoooooaaa "character/reality testing/building project"...
Building...
Tearing apart...
Building...
On camera/in documentary...
When out of no where Lulu showed back up in my life, and within the course of the first 5 seconds when I randomly noticed her crouched next to my upstairs fridge at 5 a.m. on a Sunday morning looking like Suddenly Seeking Susan got run over by a hip hop video instead of the fallen blond princess I once cared most deeply for and put on a pedestal and left as a Laker Girl and still previously respected and spoke well-enough of despite all the whatever...
I didn't know what to think. Who the f7ck just walks/breaks into someone's house?...(apparently Candy, Chris, Saman, Sandy, Angie, and random assorted whatevers...because I'm too nice)
But after literally 2 years without a single phone call?
And in this WTF condition?
So, of course, it only got infinitely worse from the moment her greeting was "What up dawg?" onward (my response was a WTF face followed by "I don't know. What up wit you dawg?" in semi-sarcastic fashion) to finding out she was dating a strip club dj, on the brink of eviction, under the crystal monster curse as well but in VERY different ways, hanging out with the worst-case-scenario examples of "friends" from the club scene days I could think of, and apparently just in some sort of beyond-my-comprehension-to-even-fathom-or-see-coming state of evil behavior and perspective of the world and others in general.
Nice.
Well, over the next few months she kept randomly showing back up into my life whenever, driving me crazy with tales of whatever the hell nightmarish social circles and behaviors she was now seemingly a part of compared to being the girl I dated back in the day of knew. I mean you talk about mind-blowing. Just wait until you see on on-camera real-time commentaries.
I haven't even seen 80/90% of what's recorded, but that's how much I know and trust my character and the entire story and context and dynamics of it all even years later as it's largely blocked out except for when the "RAPECOPS" elements of the Truman Show brings certain other WTF? woefully-underinformed-and-completely-beyond-comprehension reflections of some things back into my modern real-life existence or I'm forced to face the #16/Brooklyn/NewummmYork-like swinging-door possibly real/possibly-less-so equations with only these beyond nightmarish token examples and associations from pictures of interracial couples (her club scene swinger friends Doug and Jen) in the 69 position randomly encountered while just trying to use the phone I had let her borrow/given her to use while...
To make a long story short, I saw Candy fall from where I had built-up/created/left her respect-wise to something I couldn't even fathom. When she showed back up I thought she had learned her lessons about the club scene and that we could help each other as friends to escape the haze and the nightmarish circles she was associated with at the time and go back to working out everyday and having normal lives.
Just like a soul support pillar to reflect off of because I still had all the right designs and the right intents and the right plan at all points along the way...but her soul was truly missing.
Tried to save her from jail. That didn't work. But she still got away sooooo lucky. Since I was the only one that knew and recognized the true condition she was in and knew her parents from back in the day, I conversed my heart out with her mother trying to explain that her daughter was in much worse shape than she realized and needed her help. Her mother hide everything about this from her father. Apparently this was a family behavioral dynamic pattern dating back to that incident that incident that happened with her as a child, but I didn't know this at the time.
I didn't understand how I could beg her mother to fly out and just see and check on her daughter. Apparently Candy was lying to them too on levels I couldn't fathom.
I'll stop now as I've just been impulsively writing this on my beyond-well-worn Droid keyboard (packing tape = functional keyboard = w00t!) after randomly snapping this pic of the first random hard drive I pulled out and my thumbs are losing feeling, but let's just say what I've written here now is probably only 1/10th of the beyond-comprehension-or-foreseeable series of
far-less-than-positive-to-the-point-of-'mind-torquingly'-bad-evil things that happened to me in regard to just trying to be the Boy Scout as usual in regard to that handful of related chapters.
By the time her parents finally came and physically rescued/took her back to Florida a year later, so much unthinkable wrong and damage had been done to my life and project I and it was unrecognizable...but I went for backup safety net #??? and left my castle in the hands of my friends/roommates-at-that-chapter-end-time, Dan and Matt while I saved myself by going back to Texas for a few months just to reset my sanity and behavior and routines.
My God there are so many more mind-blowing elements to sooooo many of these stories I need to go back to detail, but I suppose this is a retarded and far-less-than-ideal format and perhaps not even the right time to do that since this is just a drop in the bucket of what I've already been sitting on and silently enduring for YEARS even/especially on the world's stage and under the microscope and nightmares of this authoritarian alien blanket of whatever.
My poor mind.
My poor heart.
My poor soul.
I am so much more patient, loving, kind, well-intended, protective, tolerant, and intelligent than you people in the 'questionable-to-ruh-roh' Lego-like individual measurement areas of the peanut gallery it's not even funny. Nor are some of the insane FAILS I've seen by *some* in the wake.
Sigh.
Maybe I'll just try to remember to start talking to Karyn (the future ^ via the camera) about these random but occasionally close to the story/heart/explanation things as they pop up.
Every one who has been a "dick", God-forbid acted-on it, or not trusted-in/believed Me and my Character please raise your hand...
Or just, now, after reading this and navigating away from this page, navigate to some page differently than you normally would...or just continue browsing as you normally would. #KarynRR will know anyway.
And yes. It only gets worse but exponentially Better for Me. Thus the Silver Lining of all my investments and designs and projects left in piles by random torpedeos along the way while just being forced to more or less just sit and silently take it for sooooo long.
I wrote this using my Droid. Wow. That's...
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