…that old familiar feeling of dread when you realize what you’re dealing with and you have to deal with it YET again..
I promise that I will only describe someone as crazy if they REALLY are cause now I KNOW what it means. Stark raving mad. Coked outta yer mind from the ID type shit. Walking around talking to yourself. Or just walking. All fucking night…walking..
It’s what Ripley felt, and The Bride, and every other woman who had to face madness and try to not let it fuck with their shit. This poor woman thinks that her being 50 earned her the right to get disturbingly high. This is a woman who gave the fuck up. "I just wanna get fucked up and lose my mind instead dealing with the reality of it all." It’s MY time to get fucked up. My mother said something similar. They DESERVE this. They EARNED it. When you look them in the eye and tell them that they may just have a heart attack or a stroke cause not only are they addicts, but woefully out of shape ones, as addicts tend to be, they don’t care. That’s very deep shit there. They figure that they failed at life and rather than refine the program, they’d rather crack out. Full on. When a young person does that, you can blame it on tragic youth. But if you’re a 50-something and doing coke and E and drinking and smoking AND losing your mind (cause you have been doing it for YEARS)? You’re a fucking loser. I can’t believe we won’t get Social Security cause these worthless fucks are getting wasted with it now. Bitter?….well, yes..
But whatever. They blew their chance. If they can’t get it together, then pick a home now and go get high and when you get sick, we’ll use the money to put you here. Like a retarded child except you feel for the retarded child cause he or she didn’t choose to be retarded. It’s just their path in this life of many. But chicks like this you begin to loathe because they, however pitiful, put themselves through the wringer. They just spin out on worthless crap. They weave neurotic yarns and get all puffed up and frantic. For nothing. Tripping cause they’re too fat and lazy and fucked up. To anyone reading this, if you know me and I live to be 50 and I’m like THIS, you have permission to slap the piss outta me.
Fuck that. If I have to come away with a lesson from this recent experience, it’s know your limits. Once you lose that and you can’t control your impulses, you are LOST. Maybe it’s cause these are hard times in a way, so a wider range of people are starting to snap. But when you come to a point where logic doesn’t enter into your choices, and you react by emotion, it’s a wrap. You’re so consumed with being in state of alarm and anxiety, that you crave it. I feel like I was on the road to there and something slapped me. It was called reality and it hurt like a bitch. I’m ok with it. Has to be what it must to get where it needs to get. I dig. And maybe these past lessons taught me that privacy is sacred and you must have a haven. Somewhere. You may have to lay your head in some crazy places, but you’ll find sanctuary. Eventually.
So Christmas Eve ended with the cops basically telling her that if she locks me out, she gets arrested. They leave and barely get out the building when she goes right back into threats and sniffing and pretending to be on the phone telling the police that I have her at knifepoint. What she didn't know was while she was doing that, I called the neighbors, who in turn, called others and rang the bell as she was "calling the cops". They are all in the hallway and she's in her panties and tee shirt laughing and screaming and pacing and bugging and finally the gravity of the situation hits them. They push her in the house and try to talk to her, asking her questions to see if she understands. She really doesn't. She is consumed with the fact that she can get fucked up in her own house if she wants to. They gently try to explain that you can't when you have tenant. "Fuck that! It's my house and I'll do what I want."
3 women try to calm her down and finally she pretends to get them out of the house. As soon as she locked the door, she started up. I went into the kitchen to wash a dish and she SWOOPS into the kitchen screaming at me not to touch her shit. Then she goes rooting through the kitchen drawer and pulls a knife and blocks my way out of the kitchen. On some Single White Female type shit. THEN when I bolt out the kitchen and grab my phone, the bitch calls the cops again and lies and says I had a knife to her throat. By this point I'm ready to beat her ass for that, jail or not. The chick cop comes in with a billy clubm threatening to lock me up, and all I keep saying to her was the cops have been here all day. I beg her to go to the neighbors and ask questions. I call the neighbors to intercept the cops in the hallway and they do and the police came no more.
Spent Christmas in that house, with my food and drink in the fucking window to keep it cold, with my good friend to came to help me. Watched about 12 hours of the 24 hour Christmas Story marathon. Didn't see my family, but was kinda fine with it. Thought Christmas was the worst and why was I gonna let this psycho get me down. So I called a friend who was close and set about to move out. Had to walk some of my belongings in cart and saw a long blue van at the light and asked the driver how much they'd charge me to move some stuff a few blocks. $40. Thanks to a van driver named, of all things, Mary, I got the hell outta dodge.
Later that night I'm online and read the Reuter's headline about the tsunami. Instantly, my drama was over. That addicted cunt a memory. Seemed a trite thing now. The Sea came and took many people away. No one to blame. No one to get vengence on. The earth simply hiccuped and shifted a bit and took some people off of it. The scope of this is enourmous. The range of death is beyond what any of us can imagine. You see people surviving something like this and you think of a bored cunt somewhere getting cracked out and you know where you need to be..
