To Be Seen By A Stranger

Stream of consciousness…
from last night. Recorded from a voice message, transcribed.

****

This is my idea for writing, art, expression, something
I don’t know, but I’m driving in my car.
I’ve just left the Joker,
and it was an okay movie.

It was a musical.
It was a dark musical.

I was really bothered by Lady Gaga lips… the fillers that she had put in them, for some reason that distracted me the whole film.

Anyway, I’m driving home, and I feel like
I just have all of these thoughts
and feelings in my head,
and I don’t,
I don’t know what I need,
and I don’t know where to go,
and I,
and I,
part of me,
just feels fucking mad,
like crazy,
but also angry that I am here,
and even though I wanted to get out of that relationship
so bad,
it was because he wouldn’t change,
and he’s an addict,
and I just don’t know that there’s a lot of people that understand that.

I got this really weird thought…
I’ll get to it,
The gist of it was: email Laurie Anderson.
But before that I went to the grocery store
I needed to get food or something,
I don’t know, something,
I needed something.

I was also worried about the dog at home
I know the dog is fine.
My aunties dog, there are people there.
He’s not alone,
but he didn’t get his walk.
And I feel bad it didn’t get his walk.
…
I just have all of this feeling and my mind goes,
who would understand this?
I don’t know why I thought this, but I was like,
it’s Laurie Anderson.
The songwriter, poet, and singer.
I think to myself, as if I see her, and I say,
You would understand this.
You would understand this point in my life.
I don’t know anything about Laurie Anderson’s life.
Know very little, except she’s made music that I like.
I appreciate it.
I’m particularly infatuated with the song Ramon,
but I’m like,
Oh, if I if I wrote her a letter today tonight,
if I wrote her an email tonight and I told her what was happening
to me,
she would get this email,
she would look up from where she was at and she would understand, like,
maybe she would be like,
Yeah, I don’t know who you are, stranger,
Scott,
but like, I understand what you’re going through,
and I’m going write back to you,
and I’m going say,
I know what you’re talking about,
and though I don’t know you,
I understand you,

and I don’t know why that that’s so powerful to me right now,
but it just is this really powerful, ridiculous thing.
Unless you’ve had to leave an addict,
you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about
or how hard this is.
It is impossibly hard,
because you love them,
but you can’t stay with them
because it’s so bad to do it.

So in my mind this is some weird letter
I’m writing to Laurie Anderson in my head
my heart
on the astral
as I’m sitting in my car playing Ramon in the background,
|
and I wish she could hear it,
and I wish even more that she
who is really a stranger,
would tell me she understands,
because I just want to be seen in this right now,

and I know I have a therapist,
and I know I have friends
I know that’s real.

I…
I’ve left everything.
I’ve left my my home.
I’ve left Los Angeles,
and I I’m here in the North Bay Area.
I’m out here,
and I don’t know what’s next.
I’m just intending the best.

I… I… don’t even know what I’m crying about.
I’m crying, my voice is hoarse.
I don’t know if I’m crying for my dog
or my dad
or my relationship
or my my life
or my house
or anything.

Or everything.

I don’t know what I’m crying about,
but I’m just crying.
I’m crying for all of it.
I’m crying for everything.

And I just want some wonderful person
that I don’t know
to see me
and connect with me in a way that makes me realize
the wonder of the world again,
that I feel seen,
that it’s not just sympathy from those who love me,
but that it’s this real thing from somebody strange
I know it’s real for my friends,
it’s real for my family.

To be seen and loved by the stranger.
This is a thing.

I know it is,
but I don’t know if you understand what I mean.
It’s just,
it’s that two of cups.
You know, it’s the two of cups?
It’s that recognition across the room.
Your eyes meet.

And I think I really need that right now.
I think I really need the love of a stranger
to see me,
to recognize me
and
to understand my pain.

I
That’s all.
It’s 8:49, on Monday night,
October seven.

That’s all.
I’m alive.
I back here,
back here.

I’m alive.