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[Luminosity]

Today I got in my car. Two blocks from home I heard a funny noise. I pulled over in front of a church under the trees. It seems I've pulled over in this spot quite a number of times. I had a flat tire. Before I lived where I live now, I had a flat tire every five or ten years. Now tire problems seem to happen twice a year on average. I don't feel that is an accident. It bothers me that people would hate me that much for simply trying to live in my home. It sucks, and they suck. I think it happens where I live because it always manifests when I leave the house at this one corner four blocks from my house, not elsewhere.

Long story short, it took the roadside service company two hours to get to me and I didn't even think they were going to make it. I got my portable air compressor out and reinflated the tire myself. That's when the guy shows up. Just then, a woman pulls up in front of me and bumps my car. I couldn't believe it. She didn't get out of her car and acknowledge what had happened. Her eyes were red. She was a middle-aged woman. I had to get her out of her car and confront her but there was still no real response. She was doing that, "I didn't do anything" thing. When that didn't work she tried other gambits. It was one ridiculous maneuver after another. She didn't damage my car, it turns out, but I just wanted her to acknowledge what had happened, pretend to care, apologize and drive away. She did none of those things. I asked her if she was drunk or stoned. She claimed self-righteously that she was crying because her mother was in a care home. She was toasted. She tried all the drunk maneuvers. She claimed she didn't have to move her car. Like she was just going to park there and walk away. There was a lot of back and forth.

She started to fake cry, and tell me her troubles. I said, "You can't cry," and "that's not appropriate." She told me I wasn't appropriate and I couldn't tell her where to park. As if that was the issue. Whatever I said, she pretty much just accused me of that and whined about her life. I didn't think it was the first time for that. All of this time, the roadside service guy, who was a tall, fit man in this thirties was busy with the tire. He didn't intervene. It felt disconcerting. He saw the whole thing. A generation ago, a man would have stepped up. Finally, Drunkerella did leave. It wasn't her first, second, third or fourth choice but finally the penny dropped in her drug-sodden mind. It seemed to happen when I said, "show some dignity and some class and leave." Maybe it reminded her of twelve-step language. I followed the roadside service guy to a service station he said was open. Earlier I had asked the dispatcher about what service stations were open and he didn't know. I could have actually handled the incident myself if he had told me that, instead of waiting two hours.

For some reason five or more people passed my car to get between me and the tow truck driver. Normally people don't pass me, especially in rush hour traffic in town on a Friday.

The roadside guy found a screw in the tire. He said it likely was put there on purpose. He told me my tire could be fixed because the puncture was not in the sidewall. At the service station they told me that the screw was likely an accident. They said that they could not fix the tire because the puncture was on edge between the side and the bottom of the tire. Huh. Hope they were telling me the truth. Last time I tried to have a tire fixed somewhere else they also said it should be replaced. I fixed it and it lasted it's full lifetime. Hmmmmmmm. The owner was kind of giving me some attitude but they got the tire replaced fast. The station has pretty good yelps, overall. The roadside driver said it was good. As I left, the gas was on empty, even though that wasn't likely. Really? Really? Slowly the needle went back after a few miles in the Friday evening traffic and I came to there I am now.

What was that? What the fuck was that?

Edited by Luminosity, 14 December 2013 - 07:06 AM.

[Luminosity]

I looked up someone I knew long ago. He seems to live in his parents' mansion. It looks like it is worth a lot of money. When I knew him he was a surfer in his twenties traveling around. Now he's a man in his fifties, who took out a building permit. Just reroofing the house is costing $50,000, according to the permit. It's none of my business. My life is so sad and lonely and so not working that I go back to the moment in my twenties when I was of interest to someone like that. He looked like a movie star. It looked like we might move in together in a new town, and start a life together. We were both sensitive to noise and it impacted our lives substantially. We had other things in common too. He seemed above me in a lot of ways. He was from this rich Waspy family and was tall, blond, strikingly handsome, with perfect tan skin. He always looked like he was lit with a golden spotlight. People's faces softened when they looked at him like they were looking at a beautiful sunset. He was charming, generous, and intelligent. He was a surfer who spoke Latin and liked poetry. He had just graduated from college. He was traveling around in his father's old luxury car with a surfboard in it. Once, when he didn't know what to do with himself, he just parked his car in long term parking, flew to Paris and wandered around for days.

He made all the unworthy fuckheads who had wasted my time look like what they were. We met in a youth hostel in Northern California. I was riding my bike around the area. I think he followed me from one hostel to the other. I had a red lycra unitard. I did yoga in the main room each day. I had a curvy figure. It wasn't my plan to rivet the men in the youth hostel but I seemed to have that effect. There was a Dutch guy that was likable and an older man who worked at the hostel who was interesting. I wasn't smart enough to deal with dating three guys so I picked "Brian," the most beautiful, charming, age appropriate and he lived in America. He came to visit me and I proudly introduced him to my friends. I thought, my ship came in. I told myself, don't let on that he is so much better looking and high status than you, as if that was something you could hide. We talked about moving to a town near the ocean where he could surf. We kept in contact. Then he skipped a turn. He didn't respond to my attempts to contact him. Gradually I realized that he wasn't interested in me anymore. A psychic told he had found someone closer to home.

Some years ago it looked like I wasn't going to live much longer. I was tying up loose ends. I was curious to know what had become of the "one who got away." I thought there'd be stuff about him online as he seemed destined to be successful. To my surprise I found almost nothing. I wondered if his life wasn't as successful as I thought. Maybe like me, he was too sensitive for the world. What I did find indicated that he might have been living in his parents' mansion, the same one where I wrote to him all those years ago. Even street he lived on had a poetic name which I remembered. What I found online said his name was on the title with his parents. I found his phone number but I didn't call it. I just wanted to know what had become of him from a distance.

Lately I've been under too much stress and wandering back to other times and places in my mind. I again looked up "Brian." Still almost nothing about him, no Facebook page, just the building permit and a phone number. Maybe he never married or had a kid.

Edited by Luminosity, 05 February 2014 - 05:53 AM.

[Luminosity]

It's been gray and rainy here for a while, and often cold too. The sky is overcast with haze from a volcano, light whitish gray. It looks post-apocalyptic because this place is supposed to have warm yellow sunlight with rainbow overtones. It hasn't for a while but it usually doesn't have haze, clouds and gray weather. They changed the sky.

[Luminosity]

Things that made me think that living in the world is impossible.  I live on the margins of my life.  

[Luminosity]

I was using a computer in a public place.  A young man started talking to me.  He talked to me for a long time about computers and God.  He prays.  Turns out he is a fire knife dancer, looking to do that professionally.  He talked about seeing me here again.  I think he's just being friendly.  I didn't get a vibe that he was interested in dating me.  Not sure why he was so interested in talking to me.  He smelled like strawberry incense and his eyes were red.  He had a metal stick with him that turned out to be his fire knife.  He is thirty and lives with his Grandma, which is common here, especially for the culture he comes from.  He talked about an upcoming fire knife dance contest in another town he's going to be in.  Not sure why he did that but I don't think my car can make it that far.  He doesn't have one.  

 

I've been praying lately for someone to help me out of a situation I'm in; open to signs.  That encounter was unusual enough that I wondered if it was one.  I also wondered if we should exchange contact info?   I'm trying to be open to the few good people I encounter and to a possible rescue from a bad living situation that I can't seem to get out of.  Was that it?  Doesn't seem to be, but he's a good person.  

 

I mentioned to him if one wants to accomplish something it's a good idea to stop smoking weed, drinking, partying .  .  .  He said he doesn't do those things but the red eyes made me doubt that.  Then the help asked him to put his fire knife outside because someone wondered if it was a weapon and was concerned about it.  We started talking that and he waved it around, showing the blade off.  I suggested he not do that.  Then we parted ways.  I hope I was open enough.  I hope I would be open enough if someone does want to help me I will know it.  Hope I did the right thing.  He's an unusual person.  More thoughtful and idealist than most.        

You're invited to these self-expression threads:

 

http://www.longecity...ession-threads/

Edited by Luminosity, 02 May 2014 - 05:16 AM.