Thursday, June 24, 2010
I began the bobby jameson blog by accident. I just started writing down the facts of my life one day, because they didn't exist anywhere except in my head. There wouldn't have been a reason to write down those facts if there hadn't been so much said about me that was inaccurate on the internet. I felt compelled, as I still do, to give my attention to the real history of Bobby Jameson.
In doing this, I opened myself up to being bombarded by all manner of things. By being here, it became apparent that there were people who wanted to make contact with me for a multitude of reasons. I should preface this by stating clearly that I crawled here to this blog by myself through hell.
I had no friends, no job, no health, no money, no support, no nothing. I had long since given up on human beings and their recklessness, which always came couched in the words "I care." My experience is that people care to the extent that they benefit from their caring, and that when, and if, their benefits are not fulfilled they quit caring. "I'll love if you love me back."
In the past I had been crushed by my need for human contact and understanding.... Over the years and decades that followed I learned to depend less and less on other people. I became a hermit of sorts, living day to day on whatever I could make work. I asked for little and received little. I worked at hard labor mostly and got paid for it.
I gave up on the fairy tale of Bobby Jameson pop star, singer/songwriter, and recording artist. I was a day laborer. I had no girlfriend, and for that matter, no friends at all to speak of. It had become crystal clear to me that my past was just that, my past, and had nothing to do with who I had become.
I left L.A. in 1985, a complete washout and has been, and migrated to San Luis Obispo County simply because my mother was there, and I had nowhere else to go. There were no friends, fans, or lovers left to seek out and rely on. The world had passed on me and I knew it. I was faced simply with surviving.
Survive I did. Over the course of eighteen years, none of it involving music or my past. Then in 2003 I was contacted by a total stranger who informed me that an old record of mine had been reissued as a cd. It was an album I had written and recorded in 1965 under an assumed name.
This single event caused me to come to the internet and try to correct what was being said about me. It took four years for that to happen, because it took four years to piss me off enough to get involved. In 2007 I showed up. One of the outgrowths of that was and is this blog.
Since then people who once knew me, and thought I was dead, have made contact with me through this blog. In some cases I have reciprocated by forming new bonds and relationships with them, and in other cases I have refused altogether. Some of these people are those who disappeared from my life in the 60's.
At the time I was not told where they went or why. I was left to figure it out for myself. I chalked it up to, "Well I guess I'm not too important to them." Now they are back, telling me how much they care, leaving me to fit the two halves together after forty years. I do the best I can with it, but obviously fail miserably at such a task.
Somehow I am expected to believe without question their current positions without any regard for the past, which is impossible. I flounder around trying to fit people into my life, a life of isolation and ill health. A life where my mantra has become "depend on no one but yourself."
There seemingly is not a lot of regard by them for how difficult a proposition this is to tackle. Not only do I not know how to to this, but wonder why I am even attempting it. With my past record of success with those who cared about me, this it seems is doomed to fail from the start.
I take full responsibility for any failure. I am the one who agreed to attempt this. Now that I am in the middle of it I see clearly how impossible it may truly be to do. I am not the person you remember. I am not Bobby Jameson from the 60's. I am Bobby Jameson forty years later. Bobby Jameson who died twice since you last saw me.
I am the person my history has made me. The person who learned to survive on nothing and no one. Without love, without tenderness, and without companionship. I am the person who was left for dead by everyone. I am the person who owes nothing to anybody at this point.
I got up and walked away from life. I left all that I had ever hoped for on some road to oblivion and just kept breathing. I closed the door on promises and dreams. I did this to survive. I turned myself to self-reliance and stayed sober through every bad thing that happened in thirty four years. For the most part, I did it alone.
I did not want to be alone, I just was. I looked for help and found none. I looked for love, and found none. I lowered myself down to the status of a common laborer because it was all there was. I learned to respect myself because of this. I was no one special just a worker...just a person.
Then strangers turned my world inside out because they wanted something. They wanted my work and they wanted me. Except they never asked if I wanted them. No one gave a good Goddamn about me and my life at that point. They just assumed they had the right to invade my privacy.
As I said, four years later I erupted in anger and came to the internet to object, and correct the record as it stood when I got here. Each subsequent event has been similar to the first. Little or no concern for my welfare. It mostly has been about them and not me.
Since then I find myself completely at odds with it all. I fight through each day simply surviving the latest crisis created by others. I sit for long periods trying to decide what it is I should do, say, and believe. I find myself dealing with ultimatums dropped into my life by others.
I who have learned at depth what to expect from human beings, am once again staring into the confusion and misery they have always created. I am guilty of each of the things I complain about... I am not innocent in any way. The difference between me and others is simply that I am aware of this human shortcoming, while others seem to deny it.
I know I am broken and bent, but I am faced with many who think they are correct and justified in what they do. I looked for no one.....I didn't believe anybody wanted to be found by me..... Those who found me, in some cases, were invited to join in my life, not to run it, or dictate to me how I should run it.
They are guests in my existence, because they chose to be.... I did not go out and round them up or pursue them in any manner. I was just here working...surviving and trying to create, for the first time, an accurate historical record of the life and times of Bobby Jameson.
Somehow by inviting people in to share in my endeavor, I again have made the same stupid mistake I made so many times before, trusting people. I trusted that they were aware of what was going on here. I trusted that they were here to help. I did not expect them to tell me what I was doing wrong, or how I was failing them. I am not failing anybody. I am here working day in and day out on the goal I set for myself.