february 4

the world is a vampire New York City Today Around 36th and Broadway An adolescent boy and an older young man (his brother?) are walking side by side.  Adolescent: "I don't understand. Why can't you just do it now?"  Young Man: "I can't do it while you're paying attention. I have to do it when you don't even know I'm doing it." Adolescent: "I didn't think you could be born one."  Young Man: "Fuck, yeah! I was born a fucking vampire."  Okay, then. Referring back to Mr. Banks, saw Paul Schrader's adaptation of Affliction this afternoon. Good, but disturbing. Reminded me a lot of The Pledge, the new Jack Nicholson film, both being about men sinking into their own abyss. Abysses?  Looks like the co-op board wants to meet with me Friday. Ever since about a week and a half ago, when the realtor (who until this moment had been pretty laid-back and helpful) called to arrange a time for contract signing, which I agreed to, then added on at 9pm the night before that I should have my many-thousands-of-dollars down payment in a check ready for when he came over (the first mention of that) and I had to say I just wasn't ready for that, give me a week or so, ever since all of that, I feel like I'm getting the bums rush. They give you all of this paperwork, and there are lawyers and bankers and realtors and they don't really answer questions until you ask them, and they don't really give you deadlines unless you suddenly trod on their idea of deadlines, and then you have to make sure you're doing everything in order, and then there are forms that cost $25 to file, and forms the lawyer should have, and forms you don't need to sign yet, and there are recommendation letters you need but which haven't arrived in the mail yet.  I feel like I'm building a universe, SimLife, and the details keep escaping me. Like I've got it all down, but I forgot to build an exit. So this week the money clears and I can have the check and Realtor Joe and I will meet for whatever contract signing/co-op board prep I need and then there will be a meeting on Friday and I will or will not get this place. I had to get a letter of recommendation from my current landlord, so now he's in on things, a little prematurely, in my opinion. I had to get him to sign the letter I wrote, and he seems to be under the impression I'm definitely out of here. I called earlier today to clarify that it still could all fall through, and that I'd have a definite answer for him on March 1, but so far no call return. This is confusing, and I hate being unorganized. If it doesn't go through I just feel like I'm going to collapse with frustration. Underlying all of this is various personal details I've left from putting down here in the fear? concern? that those they are about might someday read this. But I've recently come to the conclusion that those concerned are probably not inquisitive enough about the author of the comments to end up at this site, and if they do arrive here, it will be an accident of boredom, much like a Sunday drive that comes to a dead end.  So in honor of that possibility, I will be discrete.  Our players: * He Who Shall Not Be Named (HWSNBN, or He Who)  * The Competition, of Sorts (TCOS) -- oh, let's call her Marge, for no reason than it kind of fits her personality; this being also a nebulous element that encompasses Anybody Else More Appropriate * The Object of The Hot, Torrid Affair (TOOTHTA, or Hank, or the Bad Boy, as he'd prefer to be known)  Now that I've written that much, I think I'll leave it alone for right now. Suffice it to say that when two individuals are using one another for ends that are less than pure, somebody's going to find themselves with scuffed knees. And I don't know how long I want to balance The Object's interest in using me with my interest in using The Object, because I think when all's said and done it's not equitable. I'm on the gradient, and I'm starting to skid. Of course, I'm new to this game.