part 21
Subject: Okay, up mine
From: MackAttack
To: BoPeep
Date: 07/11 2:15 a.m. PDT
Dear Aimee,
I am an arrogant, self-centered pig. That’s the first thing you’ve said that I agree with. I am snotty and vain and full of myself. Read my letter again: I called myself such things before you did. I said it was why people hated me before you did. You throw back my ideas and believe you originated them.
“Bad things happen.” That’s another thing I agree with. But some people take steps to reduce the number of bad things that happen to them, and others don’t. You don’t. You stroll from one calamity to the next, never see it coming, never see a pattern emerging . You invite catastrophe into your life and seem to thrive on crises.
What did you think when I invited you here to get tied up for art and therapy? I’m not an evil being. I wasn’t going to harm you. I would have given you food and beverage. Now that Akiko is gone, it would be just you and me. And I really think it would do you good to get away from your usual crowd.
You’re not sorry she is gone. Be happy that I’m miserable. It turns out the bigshots in her dynasty learned she was diddling gaijin and threw a Divine Racial fit. Two thugs from the family showed up here to tell me she would never see me again. I thought they were going to work me over, and I think they wanted to. Instead, they gave me a really expensive set of mah jongg tiles. It was their way of apologizing or paying ransom for the girl. She is simply gone and I get flashes of them packing her into a bamboo cage and shipping her by boat back to Japan to have her hymen restored.
You were the one who said she was the new great love of my life, Aimee, but that didn’t really happen. Akiko started to get on my nerves the way she would repeat a new English phrase she had learned over and over ad nauseum. I started muttering things under my breath knowing she couldn’t understand, like, “This is some form of Jap torture, isn’t it?” We had good times and I really did enjoy making art with her. It was inspiring. I had ideas of us doing some performance art with it, her all trussed up like a living mobile in one of their fancy styles, me playing the piano. They trot much stranger things than that out in warehouse theater.
You really think I’m evil, don’t you? And mean. Well, I’m not so mean in person. Look, I’m a musician, not a writer, so maybe my words don’t come across well this way. You can’t see my face or hear the tone of my voice.
Please don’t stop telling me about your life, okay? I say what I say about it because I feel I would be truly evil if I said, “Oh, that’s great Aimee. You’ve really gotten it together.” You know how arrogant I can be? I think you come to me for the truth and then yell “Meanie!” when you hear it. Well, I used to be a liberal Democrat, too .
Love, Mack
Subject: Let me try again…
From: BoPeep
To: MackAttack
Date: 07/30/2007 11:15 p.m. PD
Mack,
I don’t know what to think about you. I don’t understand you, you’re right about that. I think I do sometimes, then you go and change. So, was that letter an apology or??? I don’t get it. I really don’t. I’ve read it over and over and I can’t figure out what it is that you are trying to really say. Do you try and make me mad, then confused, then all warm and fuzzy…on purpose? I can’t decide if you are manipulating me or if it’s just by accident and clumsy. (Does that have a B in it? Clumbsy….I can’t figure it out.)
I don’t think you are so much evil as just hateful.
MY LIFE is my life. I don’t feel like I need to answer to you, you know. I may not be perfect but I’m trying to do my best. I mean, I have a job that I like, and I live in a place that I like. What is safe? You know my life, how am I NOT safe? Should I just hide from everyone and everything and make sure that nothing bad ever happens? That’s how YOU do it, isn’t it? You hide away in your self-imposed hell hole? Be careful, or you’ll end up one of those pathetic little men who scream at the kids “stay off the lawn”. (You know, like that grey little troll who lived over near your house.)
Mack, what would you suggest, since you seem to know it all.
When did you invite me to your house, for whatever reason? You never said that. You were kidding, making fun of me. You never said, “come over on Tuesday, if you are free.” I didn’t get that. I mean, what? WHAT? A long time ago, I remember you wanted me to come over and get tied up by your freaky non-english speaking girlfriend? And, you tell me MY LIFE is strange, and I walk on a weird side of life. What the hell?
Back up the truck, Mack….doesn’t that come across as strange to you?
Doesn’t that just seem weirder than anything I’ve ever told you? (Aside from my Mom and Gil, but that’s nothing I can control.) I mean, okay, if I met some guy and he brought me over to his place and had his girlfriend tie me up for whatever reason….art or something….wouldn’t you just rake me over the coals for that?
How is your life so far above mine when you even think things like that?
See, you aren’t living a life that’s better…..you just like to think you are. And, all this bull shit about art and bondage just makes me sick. Mack, you are totally nuts, aren’t you? As long as you’re doing it…it’s cool. If I am doing it it’s sick. See…..it’s the whole Madonna and whore thing for you…girls are either one or the other, but not both. Mack, you make me so mad.
What was the crack about “liberal Democrat” supposed to mean? I don’t understand you, Mack. You always bring in all these things that don’t mean anything to me. I don’t get it.
Well, I’ve got to get to sleep so I can get up and go to work. It’s a big day tomorrow. It’s when the big boys uairs decide which ad they want. I did three, and they’re all really different. I worked hard on them. So, tomorrow is all meetings and they’ll make a zillion changes no matter which one they pick. I don’t think I’m getting paid enough for this job.
Keep care, try and regain your fragile sense of reality, okay?
Love, Aimee
Aimee Is A Little Crazy 