Life is stressful. Especially when I know I have shit to get done but I'm prolonging it, staving off my responsibilities and continually letting Joe down. My best friend, my seven year long advantagist who has always been there from film shoots to bare hangouts when we would just linger Brooklyn. We prowled the mean streets, discovered dark places, roamed cities far and wide. There hasn't been a place we haven't been to. Joe considers me his best friend because he called me his best friend when we filled out the Job Application today inside a bakery. Besides Joe always gives into me without question. I end up having the say and he goes along with it. Such a loyal friend should not be taken advantage of. I should follow through with my words and promise him that I will help him get a job anywhere but foo gung places.
Joe's little brother Andy is a package of difference. What a vivacious creature from another mother he is! I can't believe that Joe is his older brother. Andy learned all these dirty words from the cartoons he's been watching and the online games and people he chats with. His Minecraft account is lit up most of the time and he's in the same room with Joe where his computer is most accessible. Who can blame him for being exposed to all this? And because their new house promotes privacy with lockable doors and spacious play area, anything goes down and influence is bountiful. I don't think Joe polices Andy and it's not an obligation. Though sometimes I wish that Joe's mother would hem down on Andy and discipline him. But then again my parents disciplined the hell out of me. Do I wish the same psychological injuries that were inflicted on me? Absolutely not. I would not want any kid to be beaten or physically tethered to their parents.
Movies are such a uniting force. I brought Kung Fu Hustle dvd over to Joe's joint and screened it on his living room television because Andy had occupied Joe's new flatscreen monitor. Joe's mother retired to her sewing chair and she kept us company watching the film. I didn't expect that she would do this. Her offscreen commentary was silent but it kept my intimacy with my friend not nearly as possible or open as I would have wanted it. But that's ok because regardless of the space issue, she would have been incredibly curious anyway. I laughed so much with Joe and Andy later joined in at the edge of the living room opening. We all seemed to reel into the film. It's amazing how much power a well-shot and well-produced film does. But it may not be the actual quality of what we're watching. It may be the film's ability to draw audiences like me and Joe in. It has the remarkable wit and ability to reel us in and keep us focused, every little ounce and flake of our skin attuned to that monitor even though the monitor wasn't a theater-sized screen. It has such capability.
Language barriers are problematic because they hamper me from communicating with Joe's family. It also hampers me from being able to hit on CBAs, Chinese born Americans aka fobs. Fobs are not attracted to me mostly because I don't look their type (fobby) and I cannot speak their language. Not simply do I not look like them, I also cannot speak their language and I cannot understand them, therefore a relationship would be next to nothing if anything. Not saying that these relationships cannot occur; I'm sure that one in a million there will be a couple consisting of a professor and a mute wife or mute husband. I'm not occasioning professor because of his intellectual status and ability to learn sign language, but simply because of the awe surrounding a professor and a deaf or mute partner. Ok, maybe another example would be a mute artist with a deaf retail clerk. But if you're deaf you are an impediment if not problematic to the retail industry. But this depends on exactly what. If you're doing phone calls, absolutely unhelpful. But if you're just tallying receipts then it's fine.
I have been extremely brazen lately with my impulsive behavior and blase lifestyle. I looked at a woman on the train for about ten times, giving him glances and glimpses. I was positive she saw me and my eyeballing her. She made eyes with me once when she was on the phone going over the bridge. It wasn't until she tried to run out of the train at Pacific Street that maybe she wanted to avoid me. I saw that she wasn't completely frightened or alarmed. Simply because what is so alarming about me? But I'm sure people cannot make this assumption just because I look like a shrimp I could have a weapon on me. I left the train at 36 Street and I couldn't help but wonder if she snapped a picture of me or if I had been responsible for frightening a poor girl on the train. Now you might ask me why did I address her as a girl and why did I use the word poor. Well, first of all, I use the word girl because her innocence was a matter of fact. She was glowing with such a perfect halo and her face was beautiful and that was written all over it in calligraphy. She was beautiful and I wanted to slide over to her and ask her if she was doing English homework because it looked like she was doing fill in the blanks. I call her poor because she may not be able to defend for herself. Not her her per se. But I use poor because it alludes to the extreme cases of either defensive or defenseless. In this case from a guy to girl perspective, a girl is rendered defenseless in this power structure. Simply put, a girl is rendered powerless in the gaze of a male because of patriarchy and scare tactics. I don't agree with this but I seem to employ this paradigm ignorantly.
No comments:
Post a Comment