Monday, August 11, 2014

busted and russling, the karmic build up..

First of all I do not like the use of the word Karma. I remember driving in a sixty seven rambler, a long shapely thing, with my friend Josh Lord and we were having this discussion.
     "I probably don't like the way people use the word. it is slapped on to things and how well do we understand it." Josh was a wonder to talk with. His eyes were pools of curiosity, his body would animate as he shifted the clutch on the steering column. He probably said something having the words to discuss reciprocity.
   But things catch up to you. I was talking to my brother as i walked over the Hawthorne bridge. A woman approached me, she was asking the time, but I was more aware of her glowing red and purple eye. I was not sure what to do. My phone is my clock, and I was talking to Gabe in China where I could not call, since he uses skype and i have a flip phone. I started to look at her quizzically, remembered it was some time after ten and told her it's ten thirty. My brother said it was ten forty five. I hollered it back at her hopping she had time to get to the shelter and kept walking. An hour my eye was puffy and swollen.
    I had to move the bus. It was parked in south east industrial district and it was Sunday night. The other thing was that I am going to go to Seattle and am storing the bus, my home and art studio at my friends David and Stephanie. A cop rolled by me while I was sitting in the darkness. Cops have mixed reviews about my existence. and recently they had started flexing a little. The cop sat down the street, two glowing red orbs. It was the kind of urban scene I never paint but always want to. Once he seemed gone I turned over my big Bertha beast and warmed her up. And then drove an uneventful trip to trip to a road behind Blush,not far. As I popped out of the bus a cop slowed at the end of the block, checked me out an then sped off. He really just drove around the block and was there to observe me again and speed off as I approached the house.
    The patio was dark, and the house a cavernous open door. A cat shot by my feet.I walked out. Like rats abandoning a ship cops started streaming out of the street in front of me in successive order. OK, there was three of them. I flipped open my phone to text. Maybe I just wanted to talk to someone, but I was thinking that they would not fuck with me if I was communicating with someone. Once they drove off I decided to go to the store an purchase a beverage.
     As I walked over there I thought how I should wear the Deadpool costume. It is a an invigorating experience to mask up. i had worn the costume a week ago when I had gone to this store. the store attendant had been excited and requested I put the mask on over my head. This is head to toe spandex, and it feel s strange being on camera with your face completely covered. I mean you could just rob the place. But being in full body spandex suits makes you question the constructs of your own reality anyway.
     This time I just needed some orange juice or water. I didn't think it was the same guy working, couldn't be sure. There were two young ladies in line in front of me. They did not know what they wanted , and offered for me to cut her in line. I smiled and thanked her noting in my mind that she was attractive as she told me something about buying things for friends who are drinking.
    Another for the record: I do not hit on or flirt with women I meet public for the simple reason every day I witness jack ass men insinuating themselves into a woman's space in order to demand her attention by saying and doing something horribly stupid. And maybe I end up a little shy and having not met as many people, and maybe a missed out on a relationship here or there, but it probably wouldn't of worked out anyway, right.
    So when this little pipsqueak out side said " don't fucking look at my girl, I am gonna kick your ass". I was surprised to say the least. "You better run old man 'cause I am gonna fuck you up. I am gonna fuck that under age pussy not you. There was nothing to say,trying to explain that she had let me go first in line just prompted the response she let you do what. I backed away but he wanted to rile me. i was a pussy if I walked and was getting my ass bear if i didn't. His lanky friend wanted to instigate and he started to charge. I don't know exactly what happened. there was an initial scuffle, the orange juice was knocked over, spilled but i recovered it. Started to yell at him that he was an asshole and using his friend to surround me, they were doing. I had spun around so i was moving back Magloughland towards the seven eleven again. a car drove around us at some point, and he charged. I was backing up, fist raised, but still holding my water and orange juice in each hand, like some ridiculous fighting style. He got a punch in, I got one he got another. i remember being happy he had orange juice all over his shirt. I got him in a head lock but his buddy was eager to punch something too. It ended once my shirt was ripped off and he got a good on in my eye.
     i got up from the street. collected my water and shirt. The OJ was done. there had been an older man sitting in the car smoking. He was standing behind his car, the store attendant was in the door way, propped in the frame. We thought we should called the cops." he informed me. "I don't want to deal with the cops" I said. The older man said something, flabbergasted at the teenagers vehemence to fight. I wandered of down the road to find an ice cube and maybe a drink.
     superheros have to be trained. They have to be forged.
     A year and a half ago on new years I was wearing a super hero costume and came across a bike. It looked like a friends that was stolen. Some dude quickly showed up to say it was his bike, in a shifty unconvincing way. Our friend didn't call back. How far did I want to take this. And if I did could I trust that I was doing the right thing? Could i justify the power to take action. I didn't, I backed down and it was totally our friends bike. I felt that I had let myself down. then the next summer i helped someone lost and on drugs get home safe.
    Once you become a costumed super hero issues of morality will craft your inner space, and getting in a violent physical fight is an important step. Deadpool, if not Julian needed this. i do look pretty gnarly though.

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