i lost in court…

Now San Francisco’s spitting me out like a pubic hair in the back of its throat…

(gargoyles are sometimes the demons you need to move on)

i lost in court and here’s what i wrote on eco and record scratch radio substack:

i call them gargoyles. after the crazy mad gay hate stalker guy who chased me out of the dregs of my career in nyc so i could come home to die and return as the 220V girl in a 110V world. gargoyles are the monsters who appear in your life and go into scary full on demon mode to chase you OUT and FAR AWAY with a fear you didn’t even know you could possess for another human being because they’re so…

“off.” i mentioned her a couple of times but anyone’s name in my mind or photo in my mind is a prayer but she is a curse and so i put the warnings out there, now you just have to follow along “generally.” fill in your own demon gargoyle who chased you out of where you were to somewhere else.

it hurts. how do you all ….DO THIS???

now that James is dead and i’m butted up right against everyone, i’m horrified. i’m lonely. i don’t want to stick around but did he bring the kitty home to have 4 kittens so i’d be forced to stay alive to keep “the set” together, as he called them?

without the one you love…what is life? this is why simone spends soo much too much time… i heard her made up evidences. she’s living a story made up. how can i compete?

Le’Andria Jones’ “Jesus” song is on. i’ve always been into Jesus but i never said so because even i glaze over when people talk Jesus. like art means to me something different and deeper than most artists (it’s how i manifest where to go what i want to go into in life or in experience…it’s the sketch…not a story… my writing is for ME first. you all are just watching me dress myself and i don’t mind because i got caught playing with myself when i was 11 in the bronx as i hadn’t yet learned distance through slitted blinds can be seen from the dark outside lights inside…do irish lace curtains work at night? no one uses irish lace as they wanna be seen. we’re exhibitionists…but to be an exhibitionist who doesn’t CARE about being liked? oh be still my beating heart…

back to Jesus. i figured if Jesus is LOVE and i don’t wanna get distracted on the superhero aspects, i wanna dare to copy where and when i can. first i had to see why to avoid evil: it made me feel like i was seething with maggots. so i wanted to bypass the image of the man for the IDEA. mainline the idea of Love the action the verb the pain the agony the pain in the ass of Love.

art was nothing. art pointed to LOVE but we turned it into sofa art.

sing like no one’s listening is a bloody beat down in The Real, let me tell you! cute song but too…cute and sweet. it’s all talk.

now rock rock the planet rock is on… i’m in an oldies red pizza mood. high school.

i lost my restraining order case to simone because i’d put my foot in her door. why waste all that time crafting a defense that made me seem like a slouch for writing novels.

foot in the door… no matter the REASON or extenuating anything: that was the cold truth of the law. so that rookie mistake that the cops made by arresting me is further legitimized and so i’m getting ready for the eviction unlawful detainer to come back around now that’s it’s clear sailing.

here’s what i wrote on ecosophia.dreamwidth. / i cannot write the same story twice unless i move things around and everything’s going too fast for me to not be somewhere else tomorrow….

Jeffrey Hicken, my collaborator, also got in touch. we were like Christopher Guest and Michael McKean had their make up on stage. anyhow, Jefe, (for i called him “jefe” like boss because he was the boss of me regarding our art), so he says to me: stay in san francisco because it’s going down and if you stay in place you’ll be there on its comeback.

taught by Kris Kovick (look her up), i wanted to give BACK to this town, this building. i love this building. it was HERS. where she made me thick strong coffee with honey and cream and i realized, “this is perfect. i want nothing more!”

but just like Philadelphia spit me out when i so wanted to stay in my huge apartment with the fireplace and yeungling porter at mcglinchey’s…but already the good conversations were waning as we wanted to make somethings of ourselves. boring!

even Camille Pagila got quiet.

yes. it was time to leave Philadelphia. but i’m eating red cheese pizza because it reminds me of Jersey and high school. Cherry Hill where everyone smelled like hoagies heroes subways… i’ve lived in so many places soda and pop and sandwiches are tells.

where to go next with our kitties?

oh, and i’ve decided that just because James isn’t around to talk to, i will not stop having the best conversations. i’m already freaking people out without James to soften me, but i shall not pull back.

just because you cannot take it doesn’t mean we’re in jail. the girls needed me when they were scared and lost. i’m here, too. i will not tone down my intensity. i will turn it UP.

when i die you will never the world will never have another erika like me ever.

that’s my point of being here. to see what it’s like to come from saturn like sun ra.

below my update from ecosophia.dreamwidth. / that’s my online bar hangout without the yeungling porter. / and yeah… i was up to 4 beers a day for a couple of days… had to pull back. no monkeys can ride this.

x


don’t ask me just HUG me! i’m from jersey!

what’s next?

i was so blue and weak i realized that if extenuating circumstances don’t matter, i’m gonna go do my own countersuit for her pushing ME and hitting and running James’ motorcycle and her being in my apartment after she put me in jail.

i am SO SKEEVED, you all. i felt ill hearing the seven cases before mine. everything’s so PETTY and no one’s remembering how to get along on the stupidest things. like what i’m going through. what hurts is that James had to suffer and die early over such pettiness.

that makes me existentially and physically nauseous.

Milkyway, back to your answer:

so i went and filed my own counter suit because that’s the game and i’m trying to muddy the eviction unlawful detainer by us BOTH pointing guns at each other. that’s all i could think of. i need time to do surgery on my knee and heal because i’m walking with a cane. i just own it. don’t care.

i HATED having to play their game. the clerks take their forms WAAAAY too seriously and the elders (my age) have this sense of superiority about knowing the CH-100 goes with the CH-120, how could you be so daft as to not know the stamp comes first THEN you send it out!

cripes.

anyhow: i need TIME.

i’m planning surgery for a new knee. i was bone on bone but the last few months i’ve lost HEIGHT. and i’m crushing diamonds into cornmeal in my knee.

Scotlyn is appalled i’m going for surgery after i’ve seen how they grind us all into cornmeal in those places. i want you to know the young nurse really wanted to steer me from banking my blood. i insisted. they no longer recommend it. say it could be more likely to cause you to need the transfusion. blah blah blah.

anyhow i also filed a counter-suit because simone proudly announced she’d called the cops on me 8 times in the ten days i’d been home from jail, as if i’d actually done anything. of course i broke into tears over the phone, horrified i’m dealing with a complete mad woman with NO LIFE.

do you know how boring it is to call the cops even ONCE? when i would get beat up dancing outside i never was the one to call the cops because i never come off good even though i was just dancing.

and so it is here with me in court again. i never win. not when the guy passed another car and ran into me on my bicycle and smashed my leg up like this in the first place.

and i’m not so sure the judge will grant me the right to even file a counter-suit against simone just because there’s something about me that makes other men and women want to crush me to a pulp to prove something.

so that’s what’s next, Milkyway.

and then i wait until the landlord’s lawyer finds out that i lost so that he can use the arrest and this win for simone as proof that i’m the nuisance who’s making the place so “unsafe.” because that’s the bloodthirsty magic word that never applies to the likes of some of us.

see why James said i was always the guy when i’m around other women? i get you and why so many of you stopped arguing back and quit talking altogether.

(smile)

if it weren’t for the women here i’d be a full blown self-hating misogynist.

(giggle)

so THAT’s what’s next. as Kris Kovick used to say…there are no bad experiences only good stories. then she had that dark rich roasted laugh of hers to go with it because the pain was still bloody.

i will say that as much as i’ve been through since James was first sick 9 or so months ago, i said that was like a marathon but now there’s a whole new creepy one and i cannot stop or slow. nothing’s on my time.

and thanks, Scotlyn. funny but i wondered why i made myself light a white candle next to me at 8:15am when i sat to first call in to my zoom appearance. it was YOU.

y’all make it worth being 220V in a 110 world. (another pained smile)

nice to not feel so alone. i told my mom it’s okay to take breaks from me. it’s imperative that she say and do so, as even James had to take breaks. i wonder: how do so many stay SLOWER?

also i wanna say that being up front and close to death isn’t so “morbid.” it’s what’s happenin and WHERE it’s happenin’. i think that’s why the girls in jail said i helped them get through it: because that’s WHERE you need 220V intensity in short bursts of time.

i live like that all the time, but they needed it THEN. only then. when i saw and talked to another, they couldn’t go all the way back to where we were.

and then i got bored of them and let them go. if they need me they know where to find me because i’ll be as open to them in ten years as i was in jail.

something’s in all this.

this is that skeleton card where he’s walking on heads. the tarot card. that card felt like NOW TIMES… but it’s MY TIME. i’m flayed. but i’m still moving.

what’s next? i still haven’t mourned James. i want to tell him things like “guess what now?”

when i went to talk to simone that fateful time, James was out of his mind, but he looked at me KNOWINGLY. he had moments of magic knowing and others of madness. when he looked at me it was dead eye serious.

when the cops came he was out of it when i said with my hands cuffed behind my back and i tried to sound calm but stern when i said, “but James these men are planning on taking me to jail for the whole weekend maybe til monday… tell them you need me to do everything and can’t even walk.”

and he got up on his cane and said with this calm beatific insanity, “but i’ll be fine.”

and i knew he was dead and dropped my head and tried to keep cool. what next?… on my way out that’s when i yelled for my neighbor.

i did the same drama in court over the phone. they couldn’t see my face …good… but my voice… i at least left behind James’ story even as it meant nothing. i was their entertainer.

let’s see if the candles worked because nothing is apparently going to be direct. i have to earn the teachings of the candles through oblique indirect ways.

no bad experiences…only good stories.

you taking notes, Christophe?

x

erika lopez