One of the best things about being my roommate is that when I record a new song, you get to hear it 153 million times. It’s a good thing Jesse LOVES it. I’ve got another song coming out soon, and Jesse has already said he wants to hear it 154 million times.
NARRATOR VOICEOVER: Actually, Jesse didn’t have the foggiest notion what was going on in Circus’ life and mostly just cares about when she’s gonna clean up the paint she spilled in the garage three months ago.
HERE’S THE MASTERED VERSION, YA’LL: https://emastered.com/profile/JOHNWAYNEPOSSEE/track/1576725113-FsLoaJb
(Sorry, I’m not sure how to turn it into a link that you can add to your Spotify playlists. I’m technologically challenged because whenever I wiggle my eyebrows, some nerd will offer to do complicated nerd things for me. If one of you nerds wants to figure out how to make this a downloadable file, let me know.)
It is, like my child, full of flaws that get on my nerves, but still, it’s my firstborn, ya’ll.
I mean, other than my *actual* firstborn.
Okay, enough with the shameless self-promos and back to the story.
The second half of this story is about Genevieve. I knew who Genevieve was long before we became club buddies. I knew Luis, the coke dealer, was twisted over her, and I knew all his bodyguards and buddies had a deep amount of respect for her. Secretly, I drooled over her outfits, which were sexy as hell and flawlessly accented with a long, slick ponytail and glittering jewels. Genevieve is a shining diamond in a club full of coal.
“I have a hot pink velvet tophat I think you’d like!” she told me one night where we both found ourselves at the same table. “I’mma bring it to you tomorrow!”
A hot pink velvet tophat sounded RIGHT up my alley, but I didn’t think much of her offer. People almost exclusively say things at a strip club that they don’t mean.
Much to my complete shock, Genevieve did, however, bring the hat to me the next night. It remains one of my favorite possessions, and we’ve been friends ever since. I absolutely adore people who stand by their word because it’s so goddamn rare.
I suppose a Christmas present from her should not have come as another complete shock, but it did. Not only that, but she completely nailed my goth aesthetic. I don’t think I’ve ever received such a thoughtful present before. At the club, I’m a bit of a closed book. I get my job done, I don’t make drama, I don’t make friends (usually), and I go home alone at the end of my shift. Somehow, Genevieve had managed to pierce my psyche, read me accurately and go on the hunt all over town for a gift guaranteed to bring me delight.
Her gift gave me a new perception that I’ve been pondering ever since. I’m an introvert with anxiety. I manage it well, so if you know me in person, you probably can’t tell. I assure you it’s there, however! Something I’m learning about anxiety is that it increases feeling of narcissism and decreases feelings of compassion, both of which can be incredibly alienating. I want to connect deeply with people in ways that are real, but I don’t really know how, so I don’t do it easily. The deep connections I wind up are with those who were consistent and persistent. With everyone else, I generally assume, without even really thinking about it, that most people have no interest in forming connections with me.
On the other hand, Genevieve showed up, she saw me, and she reached out to me with an open hand and a generosity of spirit that left me choking back tears. She didn’t assume I wouldn’t want to be her friend; she saw that I needed one and chose to befriend me. I want to be like that. I want to live my life with a radar for good people whose souls may be just a little bit lost or floundering and let them know that I see them.
In social gatherings, I generally feel like a moth among glittering social butterflies, but I think now it’s time to be neither. I want to be the light for both of them, the way that Genevieve was, this Christmas, for me.
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