Feeling Withdrawn

[Originally written 6.5.03]

Finally came to this conclusion today. It is official.  I am addicted to Coney Island.

The last time I went there was back in April. Shame on me, as I try to go once a month. However, we planned on going the last two weekend in May, it rained and I was sick.  It was Mother’s Day before that, and I am not quite sure why we never went that first weekend in May.  None of that really matters at the moment.

Perhaps the reason I have the Island on my mind, is due to the fact that it has been making the news a lot lately: when the W line was extended there; the week after it opened [tho the news anchor had said it was opening day]; on Memorial Day when it was pouring rain; on the top five list of beaches to visit this Summer [it was number one]; and just the other day, when a raccoon was resuced from the top of the Astro tower. Coney has also been used as a backdrop for an anti-smoking commercial, a Nike commercial and a Counting Crows video.

Is it any wonder I have Coney Island on the brain most of the time?

What’s not to love about that place? Tho much of it’s history has been destroyed by greedy politicians, and fuckers like Fred Trup and Rober Moses, there is plenty of history that remains. The Cyclone, Wonder Wheel, Parachute Jump and Child’s are all landmarked. They can never be destroyed. The boardwalk is 80 years old. It is home to the only ten-and-one sideshow with a permanent residence. There are bands that play on Thursday nites, burlesque Friday nites and films Saturday nites. The sideshow and museum are opened every weekend. There’s the Mermaid Parade to look forward to, as well as the Siren Music Festival, Nathan’s hotdog eating contest and the Independant Film Festival.

Do you need any more of a reason to go?

You could go to one of the big name theme parks.  They have their fancy high-speed thrill rides and whatnot.  However, they would not even exist today if it had not been for the pioneers of Coney Island. There may not be high-rising steel tracks that brag being the tallest, fastest or longest.  There is just something about the place that will suck you in.

If you go once, you will have the urge to go again and again and again and again…

Now that the Parachute Jump is back together, I would like to get some proper photographs of it, and I am in desperate need of a couple dozen rides on the Cyclone.

No matter what, Coney Island will always have a special place in my heart.  Most people do not understand my fascination with the amusement area and it’s decades of sordid history, or why I find so much enjoyment in going to the sideshow.  It’s just one of those things in my life that is, and I am so happy to have such a wonderful place only 18 miles away.  The adult playground where nothing else matters, and you can lose yourself in enjoyment.  There is not much else in my life that holds as much meaning, and I don’t feel I should have to explain this to anyone.

I love Coney Island, plain and simple.

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Escaping Reality Momentarily

[Originally written 5.22.03]

Did not want to waste the beautiful weather on Tuesday, so I took a trip down to Asbury Park.  Haven’t been there in years, so I had no clue of how to find the boardwalk.  Got a little lost, but then I found my way and I was just stunned; there’s not much else I can say.  Something about those abandoned buildings really call out to me – monuments of a moment in life where people once used the rotting structure for a specific purpose, and then just leave it really intrigues me.  Of course I had to take pictures and mainly focused on the elegant Convention Hall [which is in use and so much brighter than the other buildings] and the stunning turquoise facade of Palace Amusements.  The casino was so dilapidated and overgrown, yet enough of it remained where I got lost in imagination while creating scenes of what it must have been like when it was new. The hotels were deserted and not very friendly-looking, particular with boards covering every possible entrance way.  There was this partially built structure that stood as a steel and concrete eyesore to the failed revival of the area.  Should have stayed to photograph some of the run-down hotels, but I ran out of film.

Wednesday was shitty, but I went out anyway.  Rode the PATH into the City and took a walk to Tompkins Square Park.  Found a nice quite place to just sit and write for awhile, but then it started to rain.  While I certainly wanted to explore the City a little more, it was getting dark, so that will have to wait for another day.

Have been on an e-mail frenzy with Jon lately, and apparently there are plans on making Nickel Empire, as well as Outlaw Cirkus, more well-known to the masses.  Which obviously has me all sorts of excited.  What is Nickel Empire?  An independently owned and operated company from the underground scene, to support all local artists, musicians, performers and whatnot.

If you ever got up in the morning and didn’t want to go to work; if you ever cursed your job and spent every minute loathing it instead of working; if you ever got pissed off because you had to conform to the dress code of your employer, we want you.  We will employ those that ‘regular jobs’ refuse to.  Are you pierced, tattooed or otherwise modified?  Do you enjoy dying or cutting your hair in extreme styles?  Do you enjoy wearing extensions or creative wigs, just because it creates a happier mood?  Do you enjoy dressing comfortably in your own clothes, without being told that expressing yourself is ‘inappropriate’?  Come work for us.

It has been an honor to serve as an active member of both Nickel Empire and Outlaw Cirkus for the past three years.  We were a Family composed of various artistic personalities who worked together for the common goal of having fun.  We came from all walks of life and scenes, which made for interesting parties where ideas are voiced and listened to without prejudice.  There were no elitist attitudes, because that sort of thing can be found in plenty of other scenes and it certainly runs rampant in sideshow.  We had no need for high school mentalities or cliques or whatever.  That kind of defeats the purpose of having a scene where everyone is welcomed, because people should not feel as though they have to prove themselves.  Judging others based on appearance, interests or their level of knowledge on certain subjects is quite shallow and not the qualities we look for in potential troupe members.

Outlaw Cirkus has given me so many wonderful opportunities to perform in front of numerous audiences, and I loved every minute of it.  There is not much else in this world that makes me feel as happy and complete.  So now we would like to extend that opportunity to those who have always wanted their dreams to come true, because we were always a loving, caring and giving Family.  There is no one else that I trusted as much as my Family, and we all looked out for one another.  We were a roving pack of misfits set on continuing the traditions of circus, sideshow, burlesque and vaudeville in a society that has forgotten these crucial forms of Americana entertainment.

Then all of that came to a screeching halt earlier this month and I have kept all of these thoughts and raging emotions to myself because I cannot say anything to anyone.  My brother is hurting as much as I am, yet remains distant and distraught while I try to make sense of everything that happened.  Perhaps that was why I took that drive to Asbury, so I could find comfort somewhere there was not a single other person to bother me.

Taking Control of Life

[Originally written 5.13.03]

Meeting up with my dad for lunch tomorrow, and I am just going to be blunt and ask him for some start-up money. How can he say no? I will have a job as soon as the temporary license comes in the mail, but I have to get out before that.

For the time being, Jon slipped me a few bills, so I will be able to get all the jewelry I want in order to finish my ear project, as well as all the sideshow supplies I need.

After only a week of rocking the mohawk, I killed it.

Now I have hair a la Tyler Fyre , only my little tuft isn’t even an inch long yet, and it’s black. Thankfully I still have my side locks.  There is no way I am giving those up since they finally look good.

Found some red and off-black human hair in my stash of random fake hair things, so I put in some loose extensions. This had to be the hardest hair extensions I have done, since mine is so damn short. It took me six hours with a break somewhere along the way. So now I have these two little pigtails, only the left one is thicker than the right, so I will have to fix that tomorrow.  At least I have a more interesting hair style, and I really like the feminine touch of the length.  *hehe*  Might add some black and red weft for bulk. However, I need hair pins and some cute cheap clips or ties or something to hide the track. Suffice to say that I love it.  I am adorable, and that is all I really care about.

The reason for shavin’ 98% of my head? As soon as funds allow, I am going tattoo my head…with leopard spots. Yea, that will certainly make me so happy. Then I will start working on the sleeves, from top to bottom.  A little bit at a time until I am done.

One day, most likely far off in the future, my whole transformation thru body modification will be complete.  At the moment, I do not have concrete plans for everything I want, as I am sure my tastes and aesthetics will evolve.  Modifications themselves are constantly being improved, and what is the hot new thing now might just wind up being more common place in ten years.  However, everything that I have done, along with everything that I will acquire, is because I want to.  Nothing annoys me more than people who modify themselves for inane reasons.  Oh hey, a boy I like has his septum pierced, so I’m going to get mine done too.  Unfortunately, I don’t really see people getting smarter, but at least I can take comfort in knowing that I try to document my mods, so that I can look back with a smile and enjoy the fact that certain things have lasted thru the years.  Now that is dedication.

Adventures of the Week

[Originally written 5.5.03]

Tuesday nite I was more than thrilled to drive down to South Jersey to hang out with Jon. Watched Battle Royale, which was hilarious with much death.  Especially enjoyed the fact that right before the people died, they had just enough strength to say one final thing. The last death scene was the best. Also watched Requiem For a Dream.  Despite what opinion others may hold about the film, I don’t think I could ever grow tired of it. Probly because it has great footage of the Thunderbolt and Coney Island.  He had the brilliant idea of following along with some of the things they did in the movie, which made for an interesting experience.

Wednesday I went out with my sister. Wandered around Menlo Park mall for awhile. Went to Vintage Vinyl and just had to get the Requiem For a Dream soundtrack. The music in that movie was just too good to resist. Poked at the small furry animals.

Friday was pretty boring. Dropped off an application for working purposes and have an interview tomorrow at three. I am really hoping that I land a position. I need to work. Pierced another hole in each ear, which turned out quite well.

Saturday I went to Coney Island. What else did I have to do?  Hooked up with Jon somewhere along the way, which made the whole trip that much better.  Sat under the boardwalk and smoked a blunt, enjoying the view of the sandy beach that stretched all around us. Wandered the amusement  area and took some pictures.  It s been awhile since I have seen a sunset there, and even longer since I have seen the rides lit up. We were approached by some Russian guy who decided to walk with us for a while, so we educated him about the Island.

We departed around eight or something like that, as most of the amusements were closed or closing. The Jumbo Jet is now gone and had been replaced by a myriad of kiddie rides. Caught some fireworks that mysteriously appeared in Hillside and then we hit up the North Arlington diner for some food.  Our conversation focused on how sad Coney Island was becoming, since the B & B Carousel was gone and now the Jubo Jet had  been dismantled.  At least the Cyclone, Wonder Wheel and Parachute Jump would always remain vigilant, but it is still disheartening to witness the slow demise of what used to be a great amusement area.  People have no idea what they are missing, and honestly, I feel as tho they don’t really care either.

We sat in the parking lot for about half an hour trying to say good-bye.  No matter how much fun I seem to have with Jon, there comes that inevitable moment where we have to part.  Every now and then, when I gaze into his eyes, there is a slight bit a of pain buried deep beneath the vibrant windows to his soul.  It is a feeling I know we both share but rarely talk about, because then things just weird and awkward.  However, I would be lying if I said it didn’t effect me, or that I wanted to know what weighed so heavily on his mind, since he didn’t say much.  He just took me in his arms as he usually does, kissed my forehead and told me to be safe.

Sunday was another day out and about. Went to Wal*Mart to have the Coney Island photos developed. Then went to Cost Cutters where I scored some cheap sunblock and nail polish.  It’s really cool. You put on a base coat and while it’s wet, you apply the second color. As it dries, it cracks and you can see the base coat thru the cracks. Also went to Sally’s and bought my sister hair dye. What can I say, I was feeling charitable. I know how much she hates her natural color, and she couldn’t really afford to buy anything, so I paid for it. Went back to her apartment and dyed her hair. It’s this really pretty red now. She’s happy and of course that makes me happy.

Today has been pretty unproductive.  However, I did manage to finish copying my book and have been adding to it ever since.

Other than that, I was quite tempted to split my face open on Friday. What stopped me was not realization that I would be hurting myself. Come on, I recently pierced two holes in my ears, so obviously I am not afraid of the pain. I just knew there would be too many damn questions that I didn’t feel like putting up with, so I decided against it.  However, that doesn’t mean I won’t do it in the future.  Things of this nature are better to think about, just to be absolutely certain it’s something I really want to do.  After all, it is my face, and while I have quite a few piercings there, scars are something completely different.

Time to go outside and fin a way to enjoy this beautiful weather.

Bored of Bullshit

[Originally written 4.29.03]

I am so used to getting up and going to school, that now I find myself awake at 7 a.m. with nothing to do.

Drove aimlessly yesterday thru Northern Jersey. Somehow I found my way to the North Arlington diner, then made a right, as I know what is to the left, and I did not want to get too lost, which why I didn’t go straight.  As I’m just driving along, lo and behold…I discovered the Lyndhurst diner. It is certainly beautiful, and I must go back some day soon. Also in my travels, I discovered the remains of an old prison. Something makes me think I was in Newark, but I am not too sure of that. However, I definitely know that the site was featured in a recent Weird NJ issue.

There have been a lot of things that I am thinking about. Most of them are how I can help myself, since I really need to get as far away from all of this negative bullshit as possible.   To escape from everyone and everything negative that is bringing me down. Then I can focus on the more important matter of being the best damn sideshow performer I can be.

It will all come in due time.  While I have patience, at times it grows very thin.

Life has jut gotten to that point where I have to move on. Those who stick with me, I know that they actually care about me as a friend, and will certainly be cherished as such. Those who couldn’t care less have the right to do so.  However, I will definitely not  be wasting my time on such selfish people.

Don’t take it personally, but quite frankly, if you have not done anything for me, I will not be thanking you when I am successful. There are no ‘little people’ to remember if I do everything for myself.

Honestly, I don’t care how that comes across, as I should not have to put on a plastic smile for everyone and pretend to be someone or something that I am not.  If this offends you, then maybe you should just go on with your life, as I am sure I have not made such a profound impact on anyone, that the opinions I have a right to express effect you.

I take pride in being an asshole.  I will do it as openly and as obnoxiously as possible. If I piss you off, I have succeeded. If I offend you, I have succeeded. If you have negative things to think or say about me, you just made my fucking day.

I move on…I don’t dwell on bullshit.

We make no apologies for this.

Yesterday I sat in Hudson County Park to write for a while. I’m almost done copying the story [so when I go back to read it, I can make sense out of it], and I already know where I want to go with the plot. While the story is not done by a long shot, I have to admit that it’s damn good.

Need to set up a time to go and have a talk with Jon to see what he can do for me.   Haven’t seen him since last week, but I suspect [as always] there is a reasonable explanation for that.  Considering that he just popped in with an e-mail, I know he is eager to see me.  Perhaps that is why I have been so down lately.  The absence of joy that my best friend brings hits hard every now and then, which only fuels my desire to have it.  Maybe the Shore and his company is exactly what I need right now.

Coney Island Therapy

[Originally written 4.22.03]

When you realize things are about as bad as they can get, they can only get better.

Saturday it was so damn beautiful outside, I made use of the new cell phone and sent a text to Jon.  He just so happened to be up my way, so we met up in Newark and we headed out Coney Island in his Chevy, windows rolled down and blaring some great tunes.  Lit up a joint while crossing the Verizzano and I was starting to feel better.

It was great to be by the sea, and with my best friend to boot.  We strolled around so I could take some pictures of the Cyclone in action, the demise of the Jumbo Jet and some shots of the Bowery.  Then we looped back around to ride the Cyclone a few times, which made for some great stress relief.  How nice it is to have the breeze in your hair and face, waiting for the train to get to the top of that lift hill, pausing for a moment before you plummet down towards the ground and the swoop up again right before you crash into it.  Why something so simple brings me joy, I have stopped trying to figure out, and just loved every minute we held hands and shouted with glee.

Dropped my camera off at his car, where we had a few bowls and some mushroom tea.  Then wandered down Surf Avenue hoping that the museum was open.  No dice, but wait…there was a sign that said something about the sideshow, which had literally just opened for the season, so we decided to check that out.

It was standing room only, so we crammed against a wall to watch the show, and I was sure to pay careful attention.  After all, I want to learn from these people in order to be a better performer myself.  I loved how the audience reacted to Insectivora eating her various tasty bugs.  Classic hilarity.

There was a brief intermission [as people were sucked into the Blow-Off] where I got a chance to chat with Eak.  He was saying how there is a sideshow revival, and I commented that it was nice people are interested in keeping such a great tradition alive. [One that I will be an active part of in the next few months.]

The show started up again and I was more a student than a spectator.  Watched every facial expression, listened to the way the patter was delivered and studied the way each performer presented their acts.  Jon leans over to tell me that he sees what I’m doing and gives me a nice hug, adding how pleased he is at my eagerness to learn.

The highlight of the show was when I [once again] was invited up on stage.

Let me interject here to say that every time I go up there, it feels so natural, and I know this is what I was meant to do.

Assisted with the sword swallowing act performed by the amazing Tyler Fyre.  Was definately a willing volunteer, as when he asked if I had any experience swallowing sword [we ain’t talking about metal blades here], I enthusiastically replied “Yes“.  Then he asked if I’d like to swallow the sword, and I said sure.  [Which I know wasn’t the response he was looking for, but playing along wouldn’t have been as much fun.]  He then said that he would do it instead, instructing that when he leaned over and winked, I would pull the sword out of his mouth.  [Had done this same routine the Great Fredini during the sideshow school, so I knew exactly what to do]. He had some trouble getting the blade down, due to the fact that it was still kind of cold in the bulding, but once it was down, he leaned over, winked and I pulled the sword out.  Applause for me.

Then I fell for the kiss-on-the cheek routine.  Not sure why I didn’t think of of it at the time, until as I go to kiss his cheek, and he turns to kiss my lips instead.  My face must have been so red.  More applause for me and I took my seat again, with Jon doing his duty of busting my balls.

Great show over all, and I must say it was definitely worth going.  Said good-bye to my friend since he had to be off and do some stuff, but not before letting me finish off the tea.  That was definitely the hardest part of such a fun-filled day, but Jon promised that I would be hearing from him again soon.  At least I  slept pretty well that nite.

Today was pretty much uneventful. On the bright side, I found Dressed to Kill.  The shirts were so drool-worthy.  [If only I could find some long skirts].  Found a kick ass shirt with a sideshow banner on it depicting the Human Blockhead.

Perhaps one day, I actually will meet that certain somone that appreciates my bizarre beauty. If only the circus would come to town and whisk me away…I would be so happy.

How great technology is, that you can sent a note to your friend via phone while lamenting in an on-line journal and suddenly get a smile on your face.  No, drugs will not ‘fix’ my ‘problems’, but they sure make me not give a shit for a while.

Hard Way to Make an Easy Living

The following is not directed to anyone in particular, since I have encountered many individuals over the years who quite frankly do not understand my choice of lifestyle.  If what is written offends you, then perhaps you are guilty of the behavior described, and need to take a hard long look at yourself and your choices.  We make no apologies for the brutal truth.

In the ten years or so that I have dedicated a good portion of my time to being a Carny, there have been people who make all sorts of comments about the fact that I do not have a ‘real job’.  The are plenty of entries posted here where I mention my efforts of obtaining employment, which began shortly after I graduated high school in 2000 and continued for many years after.  During this time, I was fortunate enough to come across Jon and subsequently introduced to the Carny life.  He shared with me all the details of the things he went thru – the good, the bad and the incredibly ugly, which most people will never see.  They are treated to the onstage illusion that sideshow portrays, because that is what we as performers are selling to the audience.  What they do not see is all the hard work that goes into creating the show in the first place, such as practicing routines, making costumes, booking shows and promoting them.  While it may not be the same as say sitting behind a desk and entering data into a computer or dealing with customers in a retail atmosphere, it is indeed work, to the point where I feel most people would crumble under the stress that it can cause.

There are a number of reasons that I entered into this lifestyle, and it has nothing to do with that fact that I am too ‘lazy’ to get a ‘real job’.  Allow me to remind you that when I traveled with the carnival, I was most certainly doing physical labor and working 10-12 hours a day, not to mention that I spent the majority of that time on my feet.  While other performers were sitting backstage waiting for the next show to begin, I was on the bally stage or in the ticket box getting customers inside the tent.  Once again, these are the things that people do not see, and they tend to forget that many of the sideshow acts themselves can be physically exhausting – a few of them even literally put the performer’s life at risk, all for the sake of entertaining the crowd.

It would take very little effort to discover that there are many performers out there who make a living off what they do.  However, I am not one of them, even tho there was a time I got paid quite decently for my skills.  My motivation does not come from money, fame or popularity.  Ever since my days with Outlaw Cirkus, I do what I do because I love it.  There are few feelings that can be equated with those that fill me when I am on stage, where hundreds of eyes are fixed on me while I perform, and my main compensation is a thunderous round of applause.  When people come up to me and thank me for what I have done or want to talk to me, that means more to me than green pieces of paper.  This is my passion, my art and my life; getting paid for it is just a nice bonus.

For reasons that are unknown to me, many people do not understand my line of thinking.  Of course choosing to be a Carny comes with many consequences, and as I mentioned earlier, some of these are quite frightening.  The best example is the fact that I received death threats from anonymous cowards before and after moving from New Jersey to Philly.  No matter how stressful you think your job is, I am willing to bet that none of you ever had this experience.  It is unsettling to realize that nameless faceless individuals know exactly what you look like and where you live, and obviously have no problem telling you that they are going to bash your head in with a baseball bat if they ever see you on the street.  Let that sink in real good before you try and tell me what I do is fun.

Sure, there are plenty of benefits to my lifestyle, but for every one there is also a down side.  Numerous people have told me that it must be great not to have a ‘real job’, but once again, they have a certain idea of what my life must be like.  Apparently I get to have nonstop parties and never have to worry about things like paying rent or buying food for myself; all of those things just happen by magic.  Of course I enjoy the fact that I have all the time I could want to do anything I please, tho there are moments where I get bored because everyone I know is working and cannot exactly hang out when I would like to.  It all comes down to choices, and I should not be the target of other people’s jealousy because they aren’t happy with the ones they have made.  There is one answer I always have for that – if you do not like something in your life, then you have to make the effort to change it.

There is no doubt in my mind that I have worked hard for everything I have accomplished in the past decade of performing.  Other people do not see that effort, and as a result, I am accused of some very hurtful things.  Such as the fact that I “don’t contribute” to whatever household I may be a part of.  Being left home alone with my sister since I was about 11, I have been able to do my own laundry, clean the house and generally take care of myself.  These are very simple things that became second nature, and yet other grown adults seem to fail horribly at such tasks.  It is not that hard to clean up after yourself, and using the fact that you had to go to work that day as an excuse makes you look lazy.  While I understand that spending 8-10 hours or more doing the same menial task over and over again can be somewhat exhausting, I simply refuse to be told that people who are physically capable of making a mess are somehow incapable of cleaning it up.  Doing so only takes a few minutes, and no one said you have to do it right after work, but living like a pig shows how little you care about yourself and your living environment.  Sorry, but I refuse to live in other people’s filth, and giving me attitude that I “do nothing” when I have cleaned up other people’s shit longer than I should have does not speak much for your character.

That is just a small example of the type of negativity that spawns from my lifestyle choice, because somehow, not having as much financial security or stability as someone else equates to the inability to take care of myself in other ways.  In all honesty, I could be living in a shack in the woods and I would still maintain myself and my home the same as if I had a luxury condo in a highly populated city.  There are other things in this world besides money, and yes I am fully aware that it is a necessity, so please refrain from treating me like I am simple and do not understand this.  For a small time in my life, I had no worries about money, and I do not think that makes me a spoiled princess or anything like that.  Plenty of it was spent on rent, bills and food, as well as buying and insuring my own vehicles.  Besides, what I did with my money is my own business, since I don’t go around asking others what they did with theirs or pointing out the fact they spent it on something they did not need instead of paying rent.

The fact of the matter is, that unless you have spent a moment in my shoes, you have no idea what my life is really like.  The image displayed on the Internet is only one aspect of it, and of course follows the old tradition of only letting people see what you want them to.  Drowning in your own ignorance and delusions is not my fault, and aiming your frustrations and anger about your own life at me is quite annoying.  Making assumptions about me and my life cause you to be the fool.  Let me say that I have indeed struggled greatly to survive this long; I have lost my brother and my Family because of who they were, which is a pain that many will never have to feel, because your ‘real job’ doesn’t carry that sort of danger.  Again, I want you to really think about these facts before you shit out your mouth and pretend to know what my life is like.

Oh, and for the record, I have never stated that I feel I am better than anyone because of who I am or what I do.  If anything,  I am more humble than many other ‘popular’ performers.  In fact, I find it strange when people come up to me to shake my hand or offer a compliment about my performance.  Once I was in the audience looking up at the stage with awe, which is something that I will always remember, and so I do my best to be kind to those who wish to have a moment of my time.  Where this misconception of ‘I am better than you’ attitude comes from, I have no idea, but please be assured that I do not conduct myself in this manner.  There is nothing but class and confidence that exudes from me, whether I am on stage or in public, and I can understand how that might be misinterpreted, so take these facts at face value and stop putting words in my mouth.

The final subject I wish to address is the one of relationships, as my choice of lifestyle has certainly sparked much debate among other things.  From the very beginning, I have always been honest about who I am and what I do, so that there are no secrets or surprises down the road.  Once again, just because I could not contribute as much financially as whomever I had been dating, did not mean I gave no effort to put more than my fair share of emotional investment into the relationship, not to mention selfishly doing for others without asking for anything more than a thank-you in return.  However, this combined with the aforementioned honesty was not enough for some, even tho they lied in stating that they understood and supported my choices.  Money will certainly destroy a relationship, along with the jealousy that spawns from the fact that your partner has to go to work every day while you get to do whatever you want.

It is with great joy that I can finally say that I have found a partner who truly understands, to the point where he told me I don’t ever have to get a ‘real job’ or do anything that would cause me to be unhappy.  That is his choice, and it it for no one to question, whether or not they like it or accept it.  He knew what he was getting into when we were still friends and going out to dinner, and even now he has no problem with who I am or what I want to do with my life.  It is all my choice, and should not be the subject of gossip among those who don’t get it.  That’s your fault, not mine.  Getting angry and spewing words brewed out of jealousy show just how unhappy you are with your life, so spend the effort on fixing it instead of dictating what I should do with mine.  There is no doubt that if you lived my way for just one week, you would break down in tears and otherwise fall apart, because this not a glamorous movie or fictional fairytale, and I have never treated my life as such.

In conclusion, if you do not understand my choices or my lifestyle, make the effort to discover the answers to those questions instead of making sad attempts at putting me down.  Your raging jealousy makes me laugh, because you have no idea who I am or how I have spent my life.  This journal is a fine example of some moments, so I would suggest taking the time to read and maybe you might find something that will enlighten your closed mind.  Otherwise, it would be highly appreciated for people to quit sticking their noses in my business, because I couldn’t care less what you do with your life, so I have no idea what is so damn fascinating about mine.  The things that I share on-line are partially for my own entertainment, but also so others can have an idea of what it truly means to be a Carny.  This life is not for everyone, and as detailed in this entry, it is certainly always going to be open to discussion by those who would rather speculate than base their opinion on facts.

Love me or hate me; this is who I am.