Again, another evening where I don’t feel like writing. Where I feel as though I have nothing to put down on the page, no coherent thoughts powerful enough to manifest into grammatically structured sentences, flowing with ease and strength. I feel as though I’ve nothing to contribute to the world today. And this is a new feeling for me, something Karim says I must sit with, something entirely uncomfortable and icky.
Ran into an old friend tonight, he didn’t recognize me as Jennie, as soon as I said Penny, his eyes lit up, and even more so when he called me Jennie. That made me feel good. As though it’s possible to maintain some friendships from the industry, even after I reveal the woman behind the pornstar. This has been one of my biggest concerns, this running into old friends, and having them look disappointed when I open up with the possibility that I’m leading a new and different life, one that may or may not include them. He was stoked with our reunion, as am I, and is somebody I am more than happy to keep as part of my life. Especially since he also has chosen to take on a different career path, and is feeling some small repercussions due to his choices. Mentioned another buddy being butthurt that he’s no longer his photographer. I can understand. I’ve met a ton of eyes that are butt hurt I’m no longer subject matter. Because that’s how I’ve started to view myself. Simply as subject matter.
I could be a coffee mug.
I could be dust floating in sunshine, a little ray of light illuminating my specklyness.
I could be a stop sign with a huge accident blurred in the background.
Interesting day, went for a hike with Brando and shared with him that I am a little hurt by my own perception that I am replaceable. In his life that is. I’ve always known I’m replaceable in porn, but as a part of his life, the thought never crossed. But now that I end up watching his home while he goes out of town with other broads, I can’t help but feel replaced. By lesser versions. Different ones each time too. We used to be vacation buddies. He said I can’t go anymore because there will be temptation to drink. I said thank you for being thoughtful but temptation exists all over earth. I wouldn’t be able to go because I can’t afford it. But offers would still be nice. The subject was dropped.
Saw Mr. Cute tonight, and hugged him as I left, saying goodbye. He asked if I’m okay, noticing my non okayness. That baffles me, how he noticed, how anybody would notice my non okayness. Is it my eyes? Is it the shortened hug time? Is it the way I cast my gaze to the ground when he says “you okay?” or is it just a feeling you get from someone when they aren’t 100% okay? I don’t know. I’m obviously not very good with emotions, naturally feeling them, or observing them, so best to just sit in it rather than tear it apart looking for a seed. They say in recovery we peel back the layers of the onion, but I think that’s all bullshit. Buddhist philosophy states that we are like onions because you peel back all the layers and there is nothing there. So what the fuck does it mean in recovery?
Onions would make interesting subject matter.
I’m done writing for the day. Just not feeling it quite honestly. Just want to eat some ice cream and crash. In my soft bed. With my fuzzy dog. And vivid dreams. Friday will be lovely. Sleep will be too.
This subject matter will be dropped.