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2019-08-25 23:44:34 (UTC)

dad, grandma, people lovin people

"Judge" by (Sandy) Alex G

All the time
I try to recall
What drove you away from here
What was dream and what was real
Where was I

That day meant nothing to me
A hiccup in my memory
This life will leave you hungry
I am completely guilty

August 25, 2019 Sunday 11:45 PM

This is what I was listening today in the grocery store with my mom. The cashier was cute and I think he watched me on the way out, which would be nice, if it were true. I think I'm in some kind of minor (or major?) sexual awakening, because I masturbate almost every night now. I'm pretty consistently horny, and somewhat frustrated that when being by myself doesn't feel as good as being with someone else, even if other people sort of suck. I guess I've already known, people are also what make the rest of life worth it, and that must include sex and sex-related things, then. I dunno, I'm used to separating sex from self. Most of the time I feel as far from sex as a person possibly can; in fact, just the idea of me in a scenario that could vaguely be construed as sexual disturbs me deeply. Not only that, but seeing a character or person who could represent myself in a sexual scenario disturbs me. If there is, like, an episode of a TV show where a girl has to explain to her parents that she is sexually active, I would be disturbed.

Partly, I think, because I think of myself as being the daughter; the sister. Not as being, like, a physical thing, beyond my senses. More of an input machine than something meant to output; no actions, just observation. And sex is an involved activity; it goes against the way I've always perceived myself.

Which is funny, because as I've said, I've known about sex since before I can remember. My first knowledge of relationships went as follows: girl and boy love each other, girl and boy kiss, girl and boy make love where boy sticks his protrusion into a girl's.... intrusion. I remember, in particular, that I thought a boy was cute when I was maybe 7 and I masturbated to the thought of him and I remember imagining his penis as a flesh-colored limb sticking out from between his legs. It wasn't in detail or anything, I didn't think about things like texture or taste or the different types of skin. I just knew something was there, and I knew of the perimeter. and I knew of its purpose (one of them). I don't think I ever knew what to do after masturbating. I wasn't sure what I had done, and in fact, I was pretty sure I had done something wrong; I worried I was addicted so I'd try abstinence.

It still creeps me out, to think of the way that I instinctually engaged in pleasure, and how I brought my limited world experience into those kinds of activities... and this is fucked up, but that is part of what scares me about children. I know they're disgusting, but I can't help looking at a kid and cringing at the idea that they could be rubbing their little genitals up against a pillow until they cum. It's... disturbing. Revolting. I get that same revulsion looking at myself in the mirror; can't help thinking I"m still a kid, and I wonder why I feel stuck back there. It seems like a majority of my memory of that time is just shame and crying and staying up in the dark listening to music while I stared at the bottom of the empty top bunk. Which, I guess, is not too different from how I experience life now, but I don't know. I still wonder: why does it feel so fresh?

And speaking of children, I've been finding them CUTE lately. Usually I avoid kids. As I said, they scare me. They tend to be sharp but lacking in, like, good social etiquette, so they'll tell you if they think you're ugly. Plus they always smell like something; B.O. or soiled diapers or fresh diapers. And they're sticky and they're loud and they're shrill. But I saw a baby a couple of weeks ago and I'm not one to think babies are cute (I'm the same way with dogs—so basically, children and dogs are equivalent in my mind). But this baby had the smallest hand I had ever seen. And it writhed, but with intelligence??? I don't even fucking... it couldn't open its eyes. It slept with its mouth open, like a goddamn old person, but I thought it was cute. Amazing, more like. I kept thinking, "That is a tiny person!" They're gonna be all big and independent one day! And I probably won't like or dislike them, but I'll generally think they're a good person with good intentions! Or I might think they're cool and I'm not good enough to be around them, idk.

And I guess it's been like that with kids I've seen around. I went to an opera on Saturday (not my favorite activity but my grandma loves it and she bought the tickets, so whatever) and there was this little boy that was maybe 9 in the row in front of mine. He was so polite to the ushers. I was so shocked. I thought little kids were belligerent. Maybe that was just me as a kid. Last night, grandma told me that, as a child, I used to scream and cry and nothing they did would fix me up. She said I was hard to love. Which, uh. Certainly made me feel something. I don't know what exactly my reaction was; speechlessness. Beyond that, I wasn't surprised. The general report for years had been that: I was a troubled kid. Lots of emotional dysregulation.

I dunno, maybe I was just so traumatized by my own warped childhood memories of other kids that I just never gave actual children a chance. Anyway, not like I'm about to have a baby or anything, but I'm glad I'm becoming more tolerant, because I think somewhere deep down I do want to have kids—eventually. I'm not sure how I'll handle them, since I think they're guaranteed to have mental health issues, but I have plenty of time to figure that out I guess.

Another thing I was thinking about, regarding childhood, was my sister Caroline. I was just thinking about her most intense relationships, and it seems like they have been with guys who are extremely intelligent: Ethan and the current guy, who I'm not sure I've named on here... J? J and Caroline have been dating for a year now. Ethan and Caroline dated, I think, in like 2016 or something. I don't remember, it was an on-and-off abusive relationship. And generally Caroline is extremely guarded with her romantic life. Can't blame her; so am I. Not sure why.

So Caroline first fell in love with Ethan, right? And he was incredibly smart and very similar to our dad in a lot of ways. I have virtually no anger towards my dad anymore (thanks, therapy, lmao), but I've maybe established that he was not the most emotionally available father out there. He has always been extremely critical and very rarely complimentary. So I wondered—as my dad and I were driving from Livermore to SFO last night to catch the red-eye back to NY—if my sister was trying to find someone like our dad to take care of her. Initially, that being Ethan, but then he turned out to be even more cold than my dad. And now her current boyfriend... When I see them interact, it creeps me out a little. I'd never tell her or anything, 'cause it's not my business and I honestly can't tell if it's my own aversion to the idea of relying on someone. But it seems like J takes care of Caroline. He's incredibly smart, and also very organized and attentive; he helps her make plans, find jobs, and generally just... execute things in her life.

In general, I think this is really sweet and he's very good for/to Caroline. But hopefully she feels she can be independent without him—that's all I worry about. Again, I've only seem them interact a few times.

Maybe it has nothing to do with any sort of frozen desire for, like, a supportive and attentive Dad, haha. Maybe I'm projecting, since I tend to get drawn into people who are like my dad. So smart they're in another stratosphere, so smart they don't need to care about you.

[I had a lot more written, but my internet connection fucking dropped and it all went away. I'm kind of pissed.]

I can't remember everything I wrote before, but I know I wrote something about my parents arguing. How it is pretty much constant and it is impossible to tell if it'll fall over into the side of actual conflict or joking. And I was thinking about becoming a spinster to avoid all that marital stress. I'd live near my parents. My parents would start getting old and I'd wipe their butts and make their beds and ask them what they want for dinner and they'd say, "WHAT?" and I'd say, "WhAT DO YOU WANT FOR DINNER?" and my mom wouldn't be able to decide and my dad would say, "whatever," and I'd roll my eyes and recommend gaillopinto and maybe I'd make quesadillas with homemade tortilla.

I've always felt my mom would die first, since she tends to be the sicker one between the two. And if she died I'd bury myself with her and grow tulips out my eyes and give them to my dad. They are her favorite flower. Then I'd just keep him company so he wouldn't get too sad. He gets very lonely without her.

We were watching these old home videos from the 60s that my grandpa gave me, in which they visit family in El Salvador—and my dad said, "I always remembered El Salvador as a paradise. Maybe that's why I always wanted to go back there," and I always suspected... you know, that he wanted to get away from the white-ness of his household, and back into the more relaxed, loving arms of a latin family of his cousins. It makes sense to me, that he ended up in Nicaragua, and ended up finding my mom.

I also talked a bit about my grandma in hospice with terminal cancer. She doesn't seem to be dying very quickly; in fact, she might be able to continue on for another year if not more. She isn't having any pain. She also seems more alert. And she would say these shocking things to me. But all I can think about is how she talked about, like, having met my grandpa, and how she knew right then, that even though she was dating his friend at the time, she wanted to marry him. "And I haven't regretted it since. Well, no. Once I had the kids. Then I regretted it a little." Hahahaha.