Genuflect

Sometime today Jamie packed up her belongings and said goodbye to her roommate for two years, Rob. She rode the train or called a cab to the airport and boarded a flight for Arizona. Two years ago around this time I met an inspirational young woman with the name Jamie. She was my second inspiration to busk, besides Lawrence Trailer. Upon meeting her I realized that we could jam and sing together. We made Union Square our meeting ground and playground. I even did a photoshoot with Jamie to revitalize her fashion sense since she was pursuing her fashion dreams in a concrete jungle which later consumed her health and her energy. Unfortunately we did not get to record a song like I wanted, but I do remember our last two open mic nights together at Pete's Candy Store in Williamsburg which she initially introduced me to, and then I introduced it to my homegirl and it was where I took her for her first show in public. Some part of me wishes to have accompanied Jamie to the airport and made sure she was ok, but I knew that that was her boyfriend's job. Realizing that Jamie's taut headspace was apparent I let her some air. She only less than a week to gather her belongings, sell her bed and guitar amp to make some heading-home money, and to take in New York City before she comes back again, if she decides to give it another chance, which I doubt it. I gave her breathing room to pack up her New York life and have a clear mind for resettling in her hometown where she will board with Justin and be closer to her family. As much as I wish I can do for my friends, I can only hope the best for them, because I am not living their life for them, I can only wish them the best and see them off in my mind. It is similar to when I had to depart with Tiffany. Only I doubt Tiff considers me as a close friend to really include me in the things that matter the most to her. She did invite me to her birthday party last year which I blew off, but I doubt that she would want to include me in her circle of friends, who I know are girls, not guys. This is understandable because she's still a high schooler who just graduated. She cannot just abscond from her pack of female friends. And ultimately it's her choice to stick with female friends or switch it up for jazz. I could not see Hien off either. But that was because my phone was acting up on me. Or perhaps her phone was acting up. The afternoon Hien packed up and left I was waiting for her to call me at the pillar of Dean and DeLuca like a madman gone foolish. I waited for half an hour as drizzles wet my shoes. She did not call so I took it as a sign of indifference. I left and imagined her taking the bus at the Port Authority without me, without the book that I got her only four days ago. Sometimes I wonder if Hien carries enough knowledge about me as I know about her. But then again I don't make an effort to remember everything she tells me; I hardly remember the long Starbucks order she told me about on our first meeting.

Nearly a week has passed since my homeboy's birthday. It is shameful for me to use some a title for Joe when I clearly don't treat him like my homeboy anymore. I rarely call him and I rarely make an effort to text him. I even put off helping him cancel an online account which is eating his credit card bill. I simply ignored his requests and turned down his invites to hang out. It has been nearly four months after Joe quit his nail supply position for something better. But we are both kneedeep in despair and lethargy. Joe has shelled out a few hundred dollars to purchase bootlegged electronics in a sudden effort to sell merchandise via eBay and Craigslist. But this only lasted for a month and he made only ten percent of the money he paid out. During the birthday party I felt incredibly indifferent and distant from my friend. Though my body language around Joe has not failed to give off intimacy my mind was elsewhere. Karaoke no longer appealed to me because it was karaoke. But I knew I had to attend because it was for his birthday. It was the thought that counted above all. I went but I was not lifted because for the most part I felt disinterested and uninterested. Perhaps it was uninterested. I saw Joe but I didn't have the same energy of being glad. I wasn't exuberant upon meeting him and seeing his Joe. It was as if his face became a thing to be taken for granted. I am taking my homeboy for granted, as if he won't change, as if he's a permanent fixture that I could see any time any day any where. This level of taking someone for granted is venomous. Seeing Shirley again was difficult because the last time I saw her at her birthday party was in late May and it was rather awkward. We didn't get to speak much and I was short of a birthday present for her because I purchased her notebooks for her past birthdays two years before. I remember when I tried to be genuine with Shirley but she could tell that I had a veneer of politeness that just wasn't genuine. Dana was the second to sniff my bullshit and later call it out behind my back. I don't blame her because she has the right to be paternalistic and critical about liars, hypocrites, showoffs, biased people. I remember when I worked on short films with Shirley; we were a team. I think that after she called me out on my bullshit and inauthenticity I started to take it extremely personal. As a result I marginalized her and ousted her from my category of friends. Slowly and surely we became afloat. Being in 100Fun was absolutely uncomfortable because it reminded me of a nightclub with all its darkness. Like Charleen, I am not accustomed to dark places and clubs and drinkish environments. I cannot understand how someone like Dana or party girls can tear down the place even with dance moves. Moving past the karaoke rooms I felt like I was in a brothel and all the rooms housed prostitutes (not to make light of sex workers and trafficking). It was a little strange that I could tolerate karaoke especially when I didn't understand Chinese songs. I think I dislike karaoke because I cannot hear myself sing the whole time. Again I believe the occasion is for me, but it was clear that night was for Joe. I showed little respect to Joe and I have come to ignore my guilt. Guiltless. Shameless. Taken for granted.