Of course, I don’t know it’s a mistake but it might be.

But, sometimes, you must take the risk. And, contrary to someone’s thought that I hate them all, I only despise a few of them (hate being too big a word – they aren’t worthy of my hate.) The others are unknown and, me being me, I have to take a chance that, maybe they shouldn’t be despised? Maybe, they aren’t, as I see it, corrupted by “that man”.

So, now I’m in this place that makes me feel uncomfortable. I have the feeling (and, in some sense the reality) of being “watched”, of being “under surveillance”. And, in some way this is true since, even if the source is hidden, the visits are there. And I’m not quite THAT stupid.

You see, I like two things in particular. Films and books. For me those two things are, more or less, interchangeable in as much as, reading a book plays out in my brain in exactly the same way as watching a film. The printed words become images in my brain, the things people say in the books become spoken words in my head. Film is just an easier version of the movies in my head.

So, as a result, I have helped to fund several films. We’re not talking thousands here, just some money. As a result, I will have some DVDs coming (next year, I hope) with these films. It does two things; it makes me feel good that I have, in a very small way, helped the creation of something new and it gives me a new film. The one that has been completed and is currently being touted around film festivals is She, a horror film that made me squirm. I would say, for a male, this is more horrific than horror. But it’s very, very good and I’m happy to have been a part of it; to have helped it come to fruition.

So, having seen some stuff a while ago which I thought were all rather good, it seemed quite normal and natural to me to help someone else out. It’s just another one. And, of course, it’s NOT just another one. I probably wouldn’t have known about it had it not been for a set of circumstances. And then, as I write this, I wonder if, in fact, those circumstances were really random or planned or “supposed to be”.

The problem is that the irregular contact that has been made has never turned out to be entirely pleasant. Or, rather, have, so far, turned out to be rather unpleasant. But, you know, surely one of the times has got to turn out better? Hasn’t it? And I go from not wanting to go further to saying “Oh fuck it” and letting it continue (or, in this case, reluctantly pursuing it, sort of), to retreating back as if I’m some sort of hermit crab, to the safety and security of the life and situation that I have brought myself to.

And, it’s a good life and a good situation. Do I really want to taint this with something that, so far, has only brought anguish and bad memories back? Pain and a feeling of being kicked in the balls?

Oh, fuck it!

In the past, these “mistakes” have always been made when my good nature got the better of my desire to leave the past in the past. When I’ve tried to help someone out. Each time, at the end, I say “never again” until, of course, the next time. Even as I start to help, I get these moments (sometimes a lot longer than just moments) where I question myself as to what sort of shit I think I’m doing, as it always ends in tears!

The last time, I tried to be so careful and then, at one point, even if my concerns were still there, I let it run away with itself, not realising that I was being played for a fool. But, at least, in the end, I realised what an absolute c*** that person was/is.

But that was then and this is now. And now I find myself in the “same ole shit”, you could say. So, in helping someone realise a dream of theirs, because I think the dream is worth it, I am opening myself up to be kicked in the balls again. Partly, of course, I’m doing it because of who they are but mostly because I actually think their dream is worth pursuing. And, after all, the sins of the grandfather cannot (surely) be held against them?

So, the question is: Have I made a mistake again? Will I never learn?

And the answer to those questions are maybe and no. Every time I have to have faith that THIS time it will be different. After all, we’re now talking about people who don’t actually know me and to whom I have been, until recently at least, a rather mysterious and broadly unspoken-of person.

So, I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and wish them luck and hope they make it, in the process of which, I see some results which I think are more than worth it.

And, still, hope to God that this time it isn’t a mistake on my part.

p.s. I was partly prompted to write this as a result of reading this.