inamorato: confidence, confinement and a coniferous new growth forest

28.2.06

confidence, confinement and a coniferous new growth forest

probably one of the most unattractive things about anyone is a lack of confidence. i mean, when you don't really have faith in yourself, you give off vibes that tell other people not to have faith in you.

it's always been a turn-off.

even though i was a big offender on and off for years.

i love people who just know who they are and love it. people who don't wear things because it's what everyone else wears, people who wear what they like to see on themselves. i like people who will not compromise who they are in any situation. you know those types of people who say "yes" automatically whenever they're asked if they've heard of this band or that band? yes-men. i don't like those guys.

i knew a guy once who got a tattoo when he was younger. as he got older he started to regret getting it and seriously considered having it removed. i told him he was a retard. being ashamed of a tattoo, is like being ashamed of who you were back then, and all you are now is an amalgamation of who you were throughout your life, your experiences so it's like being ashamed of who you are period. he says, "but people say it's stupid", so? let them. people are judgmental. deal with it.

carrie gave me a tattoo a long time ago. we were drunk one night and we built a tattoo gun and gave jeremy a tattoo (the cross-eyed nirvana face - turned out awesome!) and then carrie gave me a tattoo that was supposed to be a heart with a k in it, for kurt cobain. yes, i was one of those. it has since faded and turned a little squiggly and it now looks kind of like a weird bruise. i love it. there's never been a moment in my life since i got it that i have regretted it. the moment happened, i was in that frame of mind when i got the tattoo, i was obsessed with kurt cobain and i was drunk and pretty freakin brave to let my rookie tattoo artist best friend who was also quite drunk give me a goddamned tattoo. it all happened and was real and if i regretted the tattoo, i would be denying that a part of my life was real. i dunno how else to explain it. all my good words come out in my book at 4am.

i can't stand when people agree with me just to agree, but there have also been a bunch of people in my life who have disagreed with me just because they know i hate people who constantly agree. it's like this never-ending show that people put on and i can't stand it. why can't you just agree with the things that, in your mind, you actually agree with and disagree with the things you actually disagree with?

i realize this has always been my attraction to mike, he's never told me anything because it was what i wanted to hear. never. always straight-up and i love it.

last week i sent him the 8 chapters i had of my book at the time, raw, unedited. he didn't mention if he'd gotten it at all on the phone and i kept forgetting to ask. last week when i had my breakthrough and figured out what the purpose of the story was, i sent him the bit of the book that pretty much sums it up. i wrote to him and i told him that i thought before i was doing a pretty decent job of describing the places i was in the year of the book, but there was no real purpose to the story and that i'd had this breakthrough and this is it's purpose. he called me yesterday after he'd read my letter and the new bit to the book.

"yo"

"hey, how's it goin?"

"just got your letter and the new bit to the book"

"yeah, and?"

"you were right, when i read the book before i thought it lacked focus. reading this new bit really gave it a direction, though"

"you liked it?"

"court, i fuckin loved it"

"really?"

"yes! now i understand why you were still awake when i called at 430am sunday and you said you were writing, this is great, really great court"

"wow"

this coming from the same guy who told me to burn some of the shit i've written cause it's pretentious bullshit. he knows i only like the honest truth from him, being so incredibly intelligent and critical of all types of art. and he really thinks it's good and i can't even begin to tell anyone what that means to me, i mean, this guy's favorite hobby when he was 14 was reading about theoretical physics and religious mysticism and symbolism, so on, so forth.

so i get off the phone with him and leap and bound around my apartment and finally come in here, sit down and start writing again. i can't tell you what that means to me, i can't put it into words, as i said in my dedication, he is the only person who does that to me, i am wordless in describing how amazing this feeling is, like i'm actually going to get done, and get done well, the one thing i've always wanted to do more than anything else. write a book. and the inspiration and encouragement that means the most came from a guy in prison who's confidence in himself and what he thinks is strong enough to tell me he didn't like it, but he told me he liked it nonetheless. he is the only person who's read it who's opinion can fuel 6 more chapters, because i know he's telling the truth. everyone else says "it's good, i liked it, it's great, wow courtney, great job" and offer no criticism whatsoever. i would like to believe that it is that good, but, y'know...

i do appreciate the encouragement i've received from everyone who's read it though, i really do, i don't think i'd have the nuts to do it if it weren't for all you guys standing there on the sidelines cheering me on.

fucking fuck, i have some awesome people in my life, hey?