From the Horse's Mouth

Parasites, auto theft, and forced restraint

Posted in Dreams, scarlet woman, Visions by theskinhorse on July 7, 2011

The events I am about to recount all took place on his territory; I did not come Home the entire time. Many of my material possessions mentioned are not actually mine. People without names are fillers or symbols of some sort. The negativity is dense and unpleasant to trudge through, but these messages need a place.

A disjointed snippet manifests: I awake in Radar’s apartment next to him. Two of our friends had stayed the night: J&K. Upon waking, we all rise and begin to scratch ourselves. Each one comments on the small bites we see on our bodies. J is the first to remove his shirt, saying he thinks there are parasites in the bedding. Indeed, we see a handful of small black and red arachnids spill out of his shirt. We freak at the sight and all begin to remove our clothes. Before too long, the bugs become overwhelming underfoot. Heading to the front door, we stomp them into insect pancakes. Outside and mostly naked, we try to formulate a plan to get rid of as many inside as possible as they are multiplying.

Cut

I was at Radar’s apartment. What we were doing- I can’t remember. I was in my lounging clothes while he was fully dressed, obviously expecting company besides myself. Almost in unison, Lomax and Renee turn up at the door. Lomax quickly addresses Rada, and they start immediately going over plans. Renee is distraught. She comes to me with her typically neatly packed emotional totes, and I can see what a mess the contents have made. I tend to her needs as the men continue planning. Through her tear-streaked lament, I vaguely hear Radar in the background asking me about particular food at a particular place. He stands close, his eyes boring into me as I try to focus on Renee and deliver her the TLC she so sorely needs. Lomax becomes more impatient as the seconds tick away. Nudging his friend, again the inappropriately timed questions interrupt. Renee doesn’t pay attention to them, but my ears get twitchy and hot at their insensitivity. I give the universal “one minute” signal to Radar as we girls move to the kitchen. The conversation comes to a close with hugs and tissues  in a few minutes. Renee thanks me sincerely and then takes her leave.

The door closes on a quiet apartment. Radar and Lomax have vacated. I send a text asking why they refused to wait less than 10 minutes for the situation to be resolved. The response I get reads that they were hungry, and it seemed like I had no interest in that particular food at that particular place. Through the symbols on the glowing background I can feel Radar’s spite and acerbity. I do not respond. Instead, the anger and resentment welling up in me drives me to collect my things in preparation to GTFO. In my storm of packing, I come across several pieces of paper strewn on Radar’s bed. They obviously came from the ajar nightstand drawer. A good person may have piled them neatly together and placed them back in the drawer, ignoring the temptation to read the unguarded information. …but a smart person would never do such a thing. I studied the text carefully. Radar’s handwriting was less familiar to me than I would have wished. The first few stanzas of the poem spoke of affection for me, and my heart softened as my grip on my bags loosened. Tears were beginning to form as I almost scolded myself for being so rash as to run off in a huff. The next stanza revealed his insecurity and uncertainty. The third stanza chipped away at my character and exalted his own. In the final stanza, an accusation broke through as my image was cast as nothing more than a whore. I left the papers where I found them and exited the apartment, bags in hand, numb and crestfallen.

Dusty winds railed me outside in the heat of the evening summer sun. The parking lot resembled a desert, and the gas station may as well have been a halfway house. Approaching my car, I saw two women (one blonde biker and one black drag queen) hovering over my car and one (white and obese) already inside the driver’s seat. I caught that this was an attempted auto theft. My patience had long since checked out, only leaving disdain, attitude and a foolish absence of fear. I nonchalantly waved them off as if they were mere flies. “C’mon, ladies, piss off. This is my car, and, though you may be attempting to steal it, I’m here now. If you all clear out, we’ll forget this ever happened. If not, I will not hesitate to stab you in the eyes with this eyeliner.”

The two hovering ladies cleared out while donning matching looks of contrived contempt. Missing scenes. I am in the passenger seat of my car now. The obese woman is driving. It is now getting dark, and, apparently, we had been talking some. The general message of her story is that she has problems, mostly financial. Sob story blah blah blah. She needs to get somewhere to meet two of her friends- that’s why she needed a car. I decide that the easiest solution is for me to drop her off and have her “owe me one.” First we stop by Radar’s for some reason. He’s still out with Lomax, thankfully. The obese woman lights a cigarette indoors as she starts texting her friends. I tell her to take it outside as I wave the smoke out the door. In a few minutes, she has coordinates of their meeting place. I drive her to her destination, which is no more than 10 minutes away. On my ride home, a “good” feeling starts to settle in. I was a nice person.

Arriving back at Radar’s apartment, I see he has returned home alone. I entertain the thought of telling him how lucky he is that my mood has changed, but instead, we greet each other as if there was no unspoken tiff. Within seconds, our hands and mouths are all over each other. Missing scenes (unfortunately).

Cut.

I am in Radar’s bedroom, tied and bound in duct tape, in a nonsexual and potentially violent way. My face is wet, so I know I had been crying. Lomax (maybe? or someone that resembles him) is in view of the door frame. His face displays aggression as he pushes two people in the room with me. My brother and Launch, two very important people to me, fall into the room, also bound. Launch is cursing and fighting against his restraints. My brother is quietly plotting escape routes. We are all saddened by seeing each other in such a state. The scene ends here with no resolution.

 

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  1. patience said, on July 13, 2011 at 10:40 pm

    very interesting read. :D “The first few stanzas of the poem spoke of affection for me, and my heart softened as my grip on my bags loosened. Tears were beginning to form as I almost scolded myself for being so rash as to run off in a huff. The next stanza revealed his insecurity and uncertainty. The third stanza chipped away at my character and exalted his own. In the final stanza, an accusation broke through as my image was cast as nothing more than a whore. ” – i have felt energy like this before… like what you are describing at least.

    ‘I come across several pieces of paper strewn on Radar’s bed. They obviously came from the ajar nightstand drawer. A good person may have piled them neatly together and placed them back in the drawer, ignoring the temptation to read the unguarded information. …but a smart person would never do such a thing.” i wonder if a person can be ‘good’ and ‘smart’ all in one. i am all about leaving my things wide open and giving them access knowing that… it has nothing to do with smart…or good… it has a lot to do with human nature. some people seem to think that private things mean more and so take those things more seriously. the trick is knowing when its purposelessly left to be seen. what does that say about being ‘nice’ or being ‘good’ i wonder. i once was friends with this girl who ‘taught’ me the ways of ‘cheating’ (yuck) and she said you leave one journal out on a shelf…filled with what you want them to think is private…. and then you have another in another part secret…or in another building all together. it seemed like a lot of work to go through to shape a persons mind and manipulate them so much. she told me all about this process… it seemed to work ok for her for a while…maybe? then who am i to say if it really worked out for her -> she did end up with a divorce and a man who she found more pleasing; but i have heard lately she is not happy so who knows,. on my end in regards to leaving yourself open for people to inspect; it seemed more like a way to ‘cut the wheat for the shaft’ (a new phrase for me that i picked up from this cool chick). as in once you know they have read it…and you monitor their behavior; you see where things fall; but then on the other end it is like that self fulfilling prophesy type thing -> destruction; but then again… these are people who will go through your things no matter; controllers, or belittlers who think the are awesome and use you, …. or ones who don’t listen when you address them directly because they are so self assured in their riotousness…intelligence or pain…what ever it is they have. in my weak moments the worst voice says, ‘ so why let them own you there’ -> pay them back the favor of put downs’ YIkeS-> that is revenge. that is infection of the mind. gross. ok i am drifting. i see how its kind of annoying to have to keep up the work; something i noted to myself right away when my girlfriend was divulging into the world of how you ‘sneak’ around and ‘get what you want’… she was a very pretty thing…and she was use to getting what she wanted but i thought well this is a lot of work. i was right. it is. i tried it myself. i am not nice and i am not even that smart but these are thoughts that i had from reading this. what does it mean -> one more area needing review on my end; on the nature of relationships. these are personal reflections and not meant to defer or diminish your blog post. i like to share what this made me think of. now it seems like this ‘infection’ of testing people is always moving around me even become a main objective in interactions. is this sickness of the mind; or is this ‘smart’ ??? i am curious now…. hmm what is happening here; its a question to ask oneself.

    i like when you write it is a great tool for me personally in reflecting and sharing my understanding… again i hope i am not being rude to you.

    peace


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