Shut Up, Paul

By Paul Ford

What he said.

Dear Reader,

1. I've been working on making Ftrain into a real publication, where three to five regular writers, possibly more, will publish updates simultaneously, instead of only me. It's not going to be exactly an Ezine or a Web community or a 'Log or whatever; I don't know what to call it. It'll be thematic, and structured, and have lots for everyone, from my meandering self-absorption, to someone else's cultural rage, to nasty smutty true stories. It will also include a magazine of bad poetry called "Sloppy Poesy." It'll be a few months before it all works, since it's all in the programming. Until Ftrain goes database-driven, there'll still be regular updates by me only.
2. For the multiple-narrative version of the site, I've lined up an old alkie political commentator, a ribald literateur, and the most sexually honest, and promiscuous man I've ever met. He's a red-hot dandy rawhide hardcore rocket-thrusting bulletproof slap-up sex dog.
3. He's also so stereotypically handsome it's comic, and he promised me tonight, over a drink, that he would relate, via Ftrain, with a moderate veil of secrecy, in complete honesty, the depravity of his New York life as a model, actor, and aspiring filmmaker. I would imagine he'll also let us post naked pictures from the nose down, which would be fun, or at least underwear shots. He lives in a world of swing clubs, fivesomes, bizarre triangles and mutual erotic performances, and he's a keen inside observer of the manipulation and foolishness that comes with it; he sees people literally at their naked worst. So I'm looking forward to reading that; it's the sort of insightful nastiness I like quite a bit, and to which I would never have access. (I'd say I don't want access but of course I'd like to be a fuck-all hot raging prong of a man.) Usually when sex lives are described to me, it comes from an "I get laid all the time, I am badass and liberated--right?" perspective. But D----- has no desire for validation; he's too busy being an amused heathen.
4. Me, I'm sexually invalid. I like admitting it. I am a genuinely lousy, nervous lover, and I cling with a prideless psychic meathook to the women who sleep with me. I'm probably going to do a little writing about that, too. I manage to keep enough friends to survive, and the rest of it takes on a comic pallor--good fun.
5. The science fiction novel is going into a second plotting stage, slowly. I have someone helping me with it. I won't mention her name, because at this point in the entry, who would want to be associated with me? But she may be another contributor to the next version of Ftrain. She hasn't decided what to write about yet. I'm also trying to get a friend to write about math and science in everyday life, conjoined with his amazing sound collages as RealAudio. Oh! And my Mom and Dad (divorced) will each contribute essays, poems, and short stories on a regular basis. They're pretty good, and they both have backlogs of hundreds of pieces of text. My mom has some great illustrations, too, and watercolors.
6. I've been hoping my next girlfriend will be a writer, so that when the relationship fails, we can both put up our stories about the breakup on Ftrain. It would make great, sick reading, the back and forth and frustration and pain all born out. Who wouldn't love it? There was a terrific journal breakup last year, where a woman left her long-time boyfriend for another man and the long-time boyfriend suddenly took to writing online, and it made for fascinating browsing, even if I felt like a voyeuristic fucker and I felt awful for everyone involved. I can only hope to be involved in a really destructive relationship, though, right now. Cross your fingers that the next lady obliterates my soul.
7. I love public, performed messes; I've always wanted to document truly private stuff, since I was a kid, and it's tough for me to not ask questions like, "can we we audiotape it when you lose your virginity and mix it into some music on the radio?" I know the answer is no. I've asked it.
8. I have cassettes of my Mom going insane, losing her shit and telling me I am evil and that she'll never know me again, and I secretly taped other phone calls of my confronting her about childhood stuff which may or may not have happened, I can't really tell, and played it all on the radio, when I was in college. Mom's good about it; I want to get her AOL so that if I write about the crazy childhood stuff and my boring, weak blame and anger, she can write her own side of the story and publish it right alongside. I think she deserves the forum, and more importantly, she's a fine, practiced writer. She's totally willing to do this, too. I think it would be good for others to read. I love that woman.
9. For those of you who hate to read Ftrain, and have sent me cranky emails about how awful the writing is, thanks.
10. For those of you who sent the kind emails, thanks.
11. I don't want to fuck any of you, but thanks.
12. I love to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, and I enjoy doing pushups. Sadly, I can do about 15 now without crying. This is what happens to the neglected, underutilized body. Kids, take it as a warning: it's better to abuse alcohol, or to cut yourself, than force food down your mouth for emotional comfort. Because fat, unattractive people don't get laid, so they need to find other ways to validate themselves, like writing an online journal, and they pretend it's really all okay even when they're lying in bed shaking because everything hurts so bad. Not me, that's not my problem, but I know a lot of friends who suffer that way, and it's a sad truth.
13. Remember--cutting yourself and drinking too much. Slice those arms.
14. I am working on a radio play called "The Loneliest Guy in the World," about a self-pitying, masturbating, dishwashing lug who breaks into song at uncomfortable intervals and can't believe how awful his life is. It should be entertaining, if I finish it.
15. Things keep going over here. Thanks for participating; we'll return to our staples of sad fiction and comic melodrama after tomorrow.
16. "The only true freedom/is freedom from the heart's desire/and the only true happiness/this way lies."
17. For the multiple-narrative version of the site, I've lined up an old alkie political commentator, a ribald literateur, and the most sexually honest, and promiscuous man I've ever met. He's a red-hot dandy rawhide hardcore rocket-thrusting bulletproof slap-up sex dog.
18. He's also so stereotypically handsome it's comic, and he promised me tonight, over a drink, that he would relate, via Ftrain, with a moderate veil of secrecy, in complete honesty, the depravity of his New York life as a model, actor, and aspiring filmmaker. I would imagine he'll also let us post naked pictures from the nose down, which would be fun, or at least underwear shots. He lives in a world of swing clubs, fivesomes, bizarre triangles and mutual erotic performances, and he's a keen inside observer of the manipulation and foolishness that comes with it; he sees people literally at their naked worst. So I'm looking forward to reading that; it's the sort of insightful nastiness I like quite a bit, and to which I would never have access. (I'd say I don't want access but of course I'd like to be a fuck-all hot raging prong of a man.) Usually when sex lives are described to me, it comes from an "I get laid all the time, I am badass and liberated--right?" perspective. But D----- has no desire for validation; he's too busy being an amused heathen.
19. Me, I'm sexually invalid. I like admitting it. I am a genuinely lousy, nervous lover, and I cling with a prideless psychic meathook to the women who sleep with me. I'm probably going to do a little writing about that, too. I manage to keep enough friends to survive, and the rest of it takes on a comic pallor--good fun.
20. The science fiction novel is going into a second plotting stage, slowly. I have someone helping me with it. I won't mention her name, because at this point in the entry, who would want to be associated with me? But she may be another contributor to the next version of Ftrain. She hasn't decided what to write about yet. I'm also trying to get a friend to write about math and science in everyday life, conjoined with his amazing sound collages as RealAudio. Oh! And my Mom and Dad (divorced) will each contribute essays, poems, and short stories on a regular basis. They're pretty good, and they both have backlogs of hundreds of pieces of text. My mom has some great illustrations, too, and watercolors.
21. I've been hoping my next girlfriend will be a writer, so that when the relationship fails, we can both put up our stories about the breakup on Ftrain. It would make great, sick reading, the back and forth and frustration and pain all born out. Who wouldn't love it? There was a terrific journal breakup last year, where a woman left her long-time boyfriend for another man and the long-time boyfriend suddenly took to writing online, and it made for fascinating browsing, even if I felt like a voyeuristic fucker and I felt awful for everyone involved. I can only hope to be involved in a really destructive relationship, though, right now. Cross your fingers that the next lady obliterates my soul.
22. I love public, performed messes; I've always wanted to document truly private stuff, since I was a kid, and it's tough for me to not ask questions like, "can we we audiotape it when you lose your virginity and mix it into some music on the radio?" I know the answer is no. I've asked it.
23. I have cassettes of my Mom going insane, losing her shit and telling me I am evil and that she'll never know me again, and I secretly taped other phone calls of my confronting her about childhood stuff which may or may not have happened, I can't really tell, and played it all on the radio, when I was in college. Mom's good about it; I want to get her AOL so that if I write about the crazy childhood stuff and my boring, weak blame and anger, she can write her own side of the story and publish it right alongside. I think she deserves the forum, and more importantly, she's a fine, practiced writer. She's totally willing to do this, too. I think it would be good for others to read. I love that woman.
24. For those of you who hate to read Ftrain, and have sent me cranky emails about how awful the writing is, thanks.
25. For those of you who sent the kind emails, thanks.
26. I don't want to fuck any of you, but thanks.
27. I love to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, and I enjoy doing pushups. Sadly, I can do about 15 now without crying. This is what happens to the neglected, underutilized body. Kids, take it as a warning: it's better to abuse alcohol, or to cut yourself, than force food down your mouth for emotional comfort. Because fat, unattractive people don't get laid, so they need to find other ways to validate themselves, like writing an online journal, and they pretend it's really all okay even when they're lying in bed shaking because everything hurts so bad. Not me, that's not my problem, but I know a lot of friends who suffer that way, and it's a sad truth.
28. Remember--cutting yourself and drinking too much. Slice those arms.
29. I am working on a radio play called "The Loneliest Guy in the World," about a self-pitying, masturbating, dishwashing lug who breaks into song at uncomfortable intervals and can't believe how awful his life is. It should be entertaining, if I finish it.
30. Things keep going over here. Thanks for participating; we'll return to our staples of sad fiction and comic melodrama after tomorrow.
31. "The only true freedom/is freedom from the heart's desire/and the only true happiness/this way lies."

Sincerely,

Paul Ford