Let’s reveal ashes beyond fire, and life beyond blood.

Suddenly the world became a real enemy.  Everyone had a secret motive to attack.  It wasn’t so secretive; I found them out. I found them all out!  There were microchips in my cereal; cameras everywhere.  The TV was looking back at me. I turned it off. I turned the computer off. If I shut off all the electronics, I would be safe; they wouldn’t be able to find me. To spy.  To get inside my head. I turned the phone off. I couldn’t stand the ringing sound. It was like a demonic drill – working furiously to get to the centre of my brain.  I could hide in the dark. Black and red are safe colours.  I can trust black and red.  I can’t trust you. You’re one of them. You’re out to get me. You sneeze on me to poison me. You send evil vibes and you mutter about me behind my back. But I know all about you. You don’t fool me. There was a knock on the door. My heart left from my chest and out my mouth. It lay dead and moist on my carpet; pulsating like a horror freak from a David Lynch movie. I turned off all the lights and crouched down and away from the door. There was another knock – pounding. They were here. How did they find me? I stared at my heart on the floor and I couldn’t breathe.  I held it in my hands, and it was slippery, still throbbing and squirting blood.  Another knock. I could feel it inside my head; behind my eyes.

                GO AWAY!

POUND! POUND! POUND!

                STOP! GO AWAY! I DON’T HAVE WHAT YOU WANT! LEAVE ME ALONE!

Silence. But no safety. My heart beating in my hands, my pulse rushing all over me and there’s an endless flow of blood all over the walls.  I can’t breathe. There’s thunder in my ears. I sit low and engulfed on the floor of my bedroom, far away from the door. Doors scare me. The sound people make on the other side; the people waiting on the other side.

POUND! POUND! POUND! Someone’s turning the handle. Trying to break it. If I wasn’t so dehydrated, I would pee my pants overcome with fear and anxiety.

                NO! GO AWAY! WHAT DO YOU WANT? PLEASE! LEAVE ME ALONE! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! Oh god, they’re trying to break in... !!! there’s nowhere to hide...

I contemplate jumping out, but I have no shoes and I live on the 10^th floor. If I jump I’ll die. If I stay, I’ll be kidnapped. Brain napped.  Hauled away to a secret laboratory and experimented on. Who knows what the end result will be. They keep telling me it’s not real. I keep telling me it’s not real. But no matter what, I can’t seem to believe it. 

Silence again. I wait. Body so tense it could cut glass and metal. I don’t dare breathe, they might hear me. I strain my ears to listen; are they still out there?

Soft knocking now, in an almost rhythmic manner. Knock, knock, knock,

I don’t want to see anyone. They’ll surely commit me. They’re already talking about an intervention.  It gets worst every week. I can see my future; it runs like a bad tv movie. Predictable and horrible.  As long as I have music I’ll be OK.  I just need to hear Nina Simone in the background.

another day in paradise...

here's a semi typical day at my work...

my co-worker and i were called to the desk to help deal with an intoxicated man. When we got there we were told that he was harassing staff/some kids and was trying to get by.  We asked him to leave, and he wanted to know why. I explained we’ve received reports that he’s being inappropriate and drunk. He denied it. I asked him again to leave.  I told him I could smell the alcohol on his breath and he again denied it and came at me and breathed in my face. I told him he has 2 options: leave peacefully or we can call the police and have him removed. He opted for the police. He then started calling me/staff names: c-word/f-bombs etc. at  one point he called me a diesel dyke. in light of this new title, i wrote a short poem:

Your drunken breath on my face

You just wanna get by,

You clearly don’t belong in this place,

Or maybe that’s just your alibi.

You throw your love in the form of a blade,

You call me a diesel dyke

Your romantic words hope to get you laid,

It won’t happen unless my name is mike.

anyways, on with the story:
While I was on the phone with the police this is the conversation he and i had:
him: i want to talk to that witch over there (pointing at me)
me: excuse me? what did you say?
him: i said i want to talk to that witch, you i want to talk to you.
me: ok. what do you want?
him: (looking confused)
me: you said you wanted to talk me. i'm listening, what do you want to say?
him: (still confused) you're not making any sense, you suck at communication.  (more name calling, i don't think i've ever been called a cunt so many time in one incident...)
Then he tried getting into the membership area, my co-worker held him back and again asked him to leave and that he’s being inappropriate. He then proceeded to grab a highlighter and throw it at us and then grabbed a couple of razor blades and threw them at us. He kept swearing and lingering around the lobby.  At this point a third co-worker came by and assisted in escorting him out of the building.  He continued to swear and pushed 3ec co-worker. He then tried to apologize to me.  3rd co-worker walked him out towards the  exit and the man grabbed the “caution: wet” sign and tossed it at 3rd co-worker.  3rd co-worker is swift and smart! he closed the door and was unharmed (yay!).   He finally left. Shortly after the police came and we gave them a description of what happened/the man and they went looking for him.
this was  not at night, or at the end of the month when drunks get their cheques...this was a 1pm... on a tuesday!

i love my life! and i love my job and my solid team!
till the next adventure,
signing off:
the diesel dyke. 
PS.
diesel dyke definition:
A Diesel Dyke is a very butch or manly lesbian, especially one who is very aggressive.

In some lesbian circles Diesel Dyke refers to a very butch Big-Rig (or other heavy equipment) driving lesbian. 

to this my co-worker said: i'll get you a jacket that says: if you can read this, the bitch fell off.