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the devil inside

we all have a little of the dark in us i guess.  last night while i was lying on my heated massage table, my next door neighbor was outside in his car, playing ‘tunes’.  he does this all the time.  perhaps he’s gotten into a fight with his wife, so he goes into the car and blares his music.  maybe he’s in there getting high, as he frequently does.  maybe he’s just trying to pop the eardrums of unsuspecting locals.  the boom boom of his choice of music echoes through his vehicle loudly enough that it shakes the windows of my house.

it’s kind of hard to be in a peaceful, restful state when it sounds like a sledge hammer is taking down your walls.

at about this point last night the dark in me rose up.  i lay on the massage table imagining ways that i could kill my neighbor; electrical shock from his own stereo would be the most poetic, but probably not an easy task to arrange.  if i were a vampire i could drink him dry, but i don’t think i’d want to get that close to him, he’s been kind of sour lately.

at first this kind of thinking made me feel uncomfortably wrong.  we are taught that good girls don’t do those kind of things, and that thinking a bad thought is as bad as doing it.  but eventually i just accepted the fact that i was pissed, and irritated that he is so continuously rude (this family also forgets that their car stereo is on “blast” when they start it at 5 am with the auto starter, and leave it running for ten minutes).  despite the reality that i’ve been trained to squish away these kind of thoughts, or that sending negative vibes to another will bring bad to me threefold, it seemed to make me feel better.  imagining him injured didn’t help, but ALLOWING myself to imagine, and then ACCEPTING and ACKNOWLEDGING these thoughts and feelings released my tension and anxiety.

and then, his music stopped.

life is maybe less about trying to make things happen, and make the right decisions, and more about going with the flow and admitting that you are still a little beast here and there.

Xposed

i’m dealing in the dark right now.  that’s not to say i’m selling drugs.  or that when i shuffle my hands i have all the lights out.  no, i’m just coming face to face with some of my ‘evil twin’ issues.

we all have a darker side; a darker nature.  it’s not always hard for me to look at, because i don’t mind having tattoos, fetishes, and an odd sense of art and beauty.  but when my failures, short comings and neurosis are exposed to others without me INTENDING that to happen – well, that gets a little embarrassing.

i guess i’ve had OCD since i was little.  second grade for sure.  one year i kept a pumpkin in my room after Halloween, i guess because i liked his crooked grin.  i’ve always liked Halloween the most (except for those few years in LA when i thought it might be more useful to pray for children being abducted and sacrificed in Satanic rituals rather than hand out sugary treats.  hey, not all my personalities are completely rational).  anyway, my little pumpkin grinned at me, with his crooked impish smile day after day.  and then his smile got more impish and crooked, cause he started deteriorating. 

i didn’t know anything about composting and biological decay, so one day i lifted his head up, to look inside.  a head full of black, spider-webby growth looked up at me and made me crazy.  dark ickies, growing right inside my room; creepy, stinky moss stuff sending pores of poison into my nostrils.  OCD!!!  i mean, there are many other reasons i am OCD, which might get covered later. 

anyway, i’ve known i’m this way for a while, but i usually try to find jobs and situations that HELP me manage my condition.  have a routine.  work at the same desk.  have a consistent schedule.  but now – because of circumstances out of my control – i’m working in an environment that is forever changing and completely unpredictable.  it is chaotic, busy, and rapid response is needed all the time.  it’s not that i’m not smart enough to handle the pressure…i just have a way of doing things that minimizes my stress reactors and freak out responses.  and i have no real set way of dealing with these things in my current position and situation, so my OCD becomes very apparent, even to those who don’t work with me.

this is embarrassing.  i feel like an idiot when people notice and comment that i’m doing the same thing over again, or i got confused about what to do next because they messed up my piles of stuff.  i feel exposed and naked when someone notices that i have re-packed a box of books and materials because i didn’t like the way they fit into the container, and i think i could get more in there if i rearranged things.  and it’s really embarrassing when i freak out over something stupid and meaningless because i am tender, sensitive and uncertain about my lovability. 

it’s embarrassing being me sometimes.

i mean, it’s wonderful and fascinating as well.

colorful and magical.  it’s exhilarating, curious, fun, and

hmmmm…now, why was i embarrassed again?

stolen

there are eyeballs in

the back of my head

but i don’t know who they belong to.

they frown

and scold me all day

reminding me that i’m doing

something wrong again.

they tell me

in subtle scowling tales

that i am not the true owner

of this body.

somehow i managed to get this

skin shell

while the real owner wasn’t

looking.

somehow

i tricked life into letting me

borrow this vehicle

and run it around town

with the rightful owner

locked in the back trunk.

the eyes look quizzically

at everything i do

wondering what i am

thinking

and why i keep getting

away with it.

but since i have

so much hair

no one else

notices a thing

and i spend another day

in my stolen

ride.

 

stolen

(unremembered date, 2009)