Saturday, December 13, 2014

Nightmare After Nightmare

I'm walking alongside a rural blacktop highway. The sky is grey, cloudy and bleak; unsustainable. I live in a world where you don't dare need anyone or they tell you, "I don't have time for you. I have my own life." Stranded and abandoned, I trudge ahead in mental anguish. I don't know exactly where I'm headed to but I know it's bad and I must get there; no choice or say.

On the other side of the road is a man and woman both wearing wedding dresses. They are forced by their family to sell flowers by the road to get money for the farm. I can't make it out but I have to imagine they are miserable. Suddenly, a fellow traveler comes up, journeying on the same path as I. He too spies the miserable couple and speaks my thought, "At least we aren't them."

He's stuck going to the same place I am so we travel together. I like him but I try to make sure I don't become needy so I'm not cut off. There are odd spots of stalks left on the farmland. We see more wedding dress flower sellers on the other side of the road, some going back in down the long dirt road to a farm house beyond the horizon. Then my companion is gone, I can't see him.

"Where'd you go?"

"I was on the other side of those stalks for a minute."

"What for?"

"I saw someone so I wanted to shake his hand. It was a farmer."

"Oh." I didn't want to shake anyone's hand but I loved how everyone he met was his friend. Mired in my misery I just wanted the world to go away. I deeply envied his ability.

Finally, we get to this giant submarine right at the edge of a body of water. This is where we've been headed: reporting for duty. My heart is crushed. The Captain seems nice as we boarded but I wondered if that was really true or just an act I needed to believe I was so scared and mortified. My traveling friend makes off for another part of the ship. We are parted as I feared but at least someone is out there who knows me.

On my own again, the pressure engulfs me as I begin to realize my situation. I ask what it is we do all the time, it seems so boring. The reply is a laundry list of boring items. My heart is sinking, dying. All they care about is that they can use me. Worse yet, most of these clowns here want to be used. I've been dropped into a madhouse. Then the sub wiggles violently side to side for a couple of moments.

I don't say anything because we are on water after all. Then I ask, "Hey, do we ever leave port and actually go out in this thing?" "Yes, we do." That I cannot do. It's one thing sitting here above the surface with the hatch open but to go out to sea trapped in this sardine can would drive me out of my mind. I have to tell them. I have to tell them I can't do this. Will they listen? Is the captain truly kind and understanding?

Next thing I know I'm watching a scene of a D.A. who's been kidnapped by a bad guy in this small dank wood room. I can't make out if the D.A. is a man or woman. But the bad guy has him/her being forcefully injected with heroin by one of his henchman. The D.A. swoons and says, "That feels so good, Charlie." I'm horrified and wonder if they are really doing it then I see the tourniquet on the D.A.'s arm. Yes, this is real.

The bad guys says he wants a few favors in return for the poison he's injecting. I begin to realize the D.A. is also a Bill Cosby rape victim, drugged when least expected. Predators everywhere - and they are always winning. Worse yet, they walk among us unseen, manipulating lives, and nobody wants to know. I sit there watching, wishing I didn't know - but I do.

Then I'm traveling in a car down swank Mockingbird Lane towards SMU where construction is going on. On a private estate off the road I'd seen in the distance a huge hall being constructed almost done. The day is foggy and it's hard to see. My Mom is in the car with me and I ask if she wants to go check out the building because I know she enjoys stuff like that. She says no.

But I say we're going anyway because I'm being selfish and I've been dying to check it out. We get out of the car into this large glass walled building that's also full of fog. We have to travel down many hallways if we are to get to the grand hall. I go down one and turn the corner and the owner is lying down in a room and says something to me friendly. I think my Mom knows the guy because all the rich people go to our church.

My Mom has yet to take a step and says something about being able to see the Big Hall well from a distance. So I head back to get my photography equipment, very frustrated and feeling guilty. Nothing ever turns out as I planned, so I have to wake myself up. This is 24/7 nonstop. I can't wait for this world to die.

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