I went to see some friends play in their band yesterday. It marked the first time I went out after I feel as if I'd beaten this whole, okay, conspiracy, against me. The conspiracy centered around a belief that I had and still have an internet presence that I did not consent to, and that many, many women had access to this internet presence and hated on me over stuff that went on in my distant past.
A few weeks ago I felt as if I'd beaten this, okay, monster, by sending one of my friends-a friend who played in that band yesterday- I got the feeling that I'd beaten the rap by sending him a copy of issue number nine of my Richy Vegas comic. Issue nine told my version of the events of the time so many of these women seemed focused on, as I believed, and put the incident they seemed so invested in hating me over into a larger context of all the shit that went on with me at that time.
I felt as if I came off as very sympathetic to my friend's wife, who I believed played some part in this conspiracy against me. I came to believe she read the book and did a complete one-eighty on what she thought of me and that whole time I talk about in issue nine, and that she proceeded to advocate on my behalf to all of these other women who hated on me. So, yeah, I felt I was like Carl Kolchak, the Night Stalker, and that I'd managed to kill this giant monster.
I wore my Night Stalker t-shirt to the show yesterday and talked to my friend in the band about how I like that show, but I did not bring up the subject of the book I sent him, issue number nine, and neither did he. I didn't want to broach the subject, perhaps because I felt it so tender and new a thing that just happened. The new, tender thing centering around how I'd beaten the rap.
Long story short, I feel as if several women at the show yesterday were privy to this internet presence. My friend's wife didn't show up, and I figured she might feel bad about the role she played in the conspiracy before she did her one-eighty. Anyway, I felt creeped out by these women, and I'm trying to sort out this creeped out feeling. They may want to make amends, but I may just not want to deal with them at this moment. I've just decided to follow my buddha and see what happens if I let this supposed opportunity to get with these now-contrite women slip through my fingers. I'll try to elaborate on all of this later, but I need to get ready to go to work now.
A few weeks ago I felt as if I'd beaten this, okay, monster, by sending one of my friends-a friend who played in that band yesterday- I got the feeling that I'd beaten the rap by sending him a copy of issue number nine of my Richy Vegas comic. Issue nine told my version of the events of the time so many of these women seemed focused on, as I believed, and put the incident they seemed so invested in hating me over into a larger context of all the shit that went on with me at that time.
I felt as if I came off as very sympathetic to my friend's wife, who I believed played some part in this conspiracy against me. I came to believe she read the book and did a complete one-eighty on what she thought of me and that whole time I talk about in issue nine, and that she proceeded to advocate on my behalf to all of these other women who hated on me. So, yeah, I felt I was like Carl Kolchak, the Night Stalker, and that I'd managed to kill this giant monster.
I wore my Night Stalker t-shirt to the show yesterday and talked to my friend in the band about how I like that show, but I did not bring up the subject of the book I sent him, issue number nine, and neither did he. I didn't want to broach the subject, perhaps because I felt it so tender and new a thing that just happened. The new, tender thing centering around how I'd beaten the rap.
Long story short, I feel as if several women at the show yesterday were privy to this internet presence. My friend's wife didn't show up, and I figured she might feel bad about the role she played in the conspiracy before she did her one-eighty. Anyway, I felt creeped out by these women, and I'm trying to sort out this creeped out feeling. They may want to make amends, but I may just not want to deal with them at this moment. I've just decided to follow my buddha and see what happens if I let this supposed opportunity to get with these now-contrite women slip through my fingers. I'll try to elaborate on all of this later, but I need to get ready to go to work now.
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