Shreveport Part One

Got into Shreveport Wednesday, March 24th. Staying with one of my mother’s 31 first cousins. His name is John. Stayed with him, his wife, Therese, and one of his sons, Tyler. 

I met all of them back in August of 2013, during a family reunion. I actually met so many of my family members. I don’t quite remember everyone’s faces, and I was the photographer for the second time. During the first family reunion I went to, everyone thought I was a hired photographer. I was ok with that, because I was shy and socially awkward. I was still awkward the second time, but Cara, another one of my mother’s first cousins, set everyone straight on who I was. 

Anyways, got into Shreveport from Nashville. They had supper ready, and we spent a few hours talking. I began drinking some Maple Rum that I got from Vermont. We were hanging out on the back porch looking at the unfinished pool. Apparently that pool hasn’t been finished because the city found out the guy doing it didn’t have a permit nor a license to do so. Then the guy kept taking the test and failed it 8 times. Persistence I guess haha. The thing is, it has been over a year since he last touched it. Now it has old rain water in it, and green algae and moss growing in it. 

John went to bed about 8-9 ish, then Therese followed suit. It was just Tyler, Lola (the dog), the cat (don’t remember its name), and me. Tyler looks over and asks, “Want to go out and drink Cousin?” 

“Sure.” I said while shrugging my shoulders, not expecting the night we were going to have. 

This guy knows the ins and outs of Shreveport. He has worked a lot of different jobs and currently in the service industry, and he is just a big extrovert. Me, being a social introvert, was expecting to get a few drinks, maybe meet some of his friends, and call it a night like at midnight the latest. That was a big nope!

We just went to a couple of places. He of course got shots for us. It seemed like every single person knew him, except for a fake Aussie guy with the bullwhip in the parking lot. However, Tyler discovered he knew the guy from a story he heard about this guy just walking into this bar’s kitchen and started to cook up something for himself then got kicked out. 

I got a couple more shots and another beer for myself. I don’t really remember how many people came up to us to basically pay their respects to Tyler, hahaha. It just cracked me up, because I haven’t seen this well connected person in a long time. Then we went across the parking lot to the EDM bar. 

Same shit happend at the EDM bar. First we walked in, and he said hi to everyone. Then once we got settled in, people came by to say hello, and even to say hello again from the other bar. Tyler told me the new bartender thought I was attractive. I was surprised, and felt good that someone expressed their liking to me. Looking back now, I should have gone up and introduced myself. I wasn’t attractive to her, physically, but she could have been a cool person to talk to. But as you can tell, I didn’t go and talk to her. I just kept drinking. Tyler kept getting pitchers, and kept filling up my cups. I was getting DRUUUUUNK. 

Then a friend of his started to hang out with us. I was trying my best to have a coaching session with her. I feel like I try to pry myself into people’s lives, and see what is plaguing them. Then try to take the knowledge I have, and the BS I can muster up to help them. This is what I tried with this person, but I was also really drunk, and I believe I was high at this point. In truth, I started fading in and out. I remember being in Tyler’s vehicle, there were four of us, and we were hot boxing. I think we went to get food too, but I am not sure. Like I remember being in the back seat and the front seat of the car. When I was in the back seat the car was moving, and the two other peeps were with us. 

It was a long night. It wasn’t until the next night, when I took it way easier, that I asked when the bars closed in Shreveport. Tyler told me most close at 4, but you can find some that close at 6. Then there is a bar that opens at 7 am. So you can basically be at a bar for 23 hours. The first night, all I know is I got really fucking tired. I don’t really remember leaving, nor going to bed. 

Next morning, I woke up at 10 am, with the worst headache I’ve had in a very long time. I didn’t want to get up, so I just plainly didn’t. I also needed to take a piss really bad. But naw. THAT headache was way worse. I figure I just force myself to go back to sleep. That is what I did. I woke back up at 2 pm, and that DAMN headache was still there!! 

I knew I had to get up, and luckily I got a big ol glass of water right before I went to bed, and it was still sitting there. Thank you faded me for thinking about the future me, love ya bud! Drank that entire thing, took some ibuprofen, then headed out to the porch. Brought my bluetooth keyboard with me, and reviewed my stories. 

Tyler woke up around the time I did. We were both hungry, and Tyler had the day planned out for us.

First. We went to Ki Mexico. This place was bomb! Of course Tyler knew every single person in that place. We got a lamb burger, and that sucker was to die for. I would say the burger was a half pound burger, ¾ inch thick, and a size of a fist. Had herbs, fresh cucumber, oil/basil dressing, sprouts, and a good fresh made bun. Then it was served with a side of in house made chips that tasted like it had Tajin seasoning on them. I was still hungry so I ordered a single taco. Glad I did that because this taco, called Gringa, was a big ass taco. The description of the taco: pork marinated in ancho and guajillo peppers, then wrapped in a cheese crust with cilantro and onions. Then your choice of sauce. To say the least I was full. Also, the bartenders there were entertaining, genuine, thought provoking, and just overall great people!

Next up was a brewery, the first brewery that started in Shreveport, Great Raft Brewery. My first beer was Barrel Aged Old Mad Joy. 10% porter. It was smooth, a bit sweet, hints of coffee and chocolate, and of course it was strong. Other beers I had of theirs were: 318 (Golden Ale), Life Itself: Key Lime Pie (Gose, one of my favorites), and Stagger Homeward (Stout). Great Brewery, and if you are in Shreveport, this would be another recommendation. 

Then we were supposed to get 50 cent raw oysters, which I was surprised by the amount. But we made a stop at Tyler’s job, he works at Eddy’s, a pool hall. Played some pool, and his buddy texted him that they ran out of oysters. I was only a bit sad, but was happy to beat Tyler 4 out of 5 pool games. 

Second to last we went to this bar that looks like a classical German Decor building. It was a bar and they were having trivia. Before trivia started up, Tyler told me one of the bartenders braids hair. She was like yup, and I’ll braid your hair for $5. She was joking, then I was like, sure. She paused for a second, and was like, “Are you serious?” I was, and then her face made a pondering face, she was probably 5 foot 4, and long blond hair, that she had in two braid like structures. One over each of her shoulders, and she wore circle glasses. After she thought, she was in, and she was asked, before or after trivia. I left it up to her. 

We were doing pretty well in trivia. Before the bonus rounds, we tied for first; but, the bonus rounds screwed us over. 

After we lost, I reminded the bartender, I believe her name was Casey, but I’m not sure. I know the other one just started that day and her name was Tallie. Anyways, Casey came around, and did a single loose french braid, starting from the top of my head to the back. It looked good. 

Last for the night, was the same bar we went to the night before. This time around, I didn’t go hard. This was the night I found out that the bar doesn’t close until 4. We didn’t close out the bar… but we didn’t leave until like 3:30 am. 

We also hung out with one of the bartenders from Ki Mexico. I am really bad with names, so sir, if you read this, I am sorry that I forgot your name. You are an awesome person!

That ended the night and majority of the time I hung out with Tyler. He had to work during the weekend. Part two of Shreveport is me hanging out with Tyler’s brother Colin. 

The Last Hill of Hope

Crackle, pat pat pat, SPLASH… a small bronze skinned girl is covered from head to toe in a thick soup of mud.

“Get up Ashley!” an older man with a short silver shaved head screamed in terror. He quickly turned around and ran back to this young girl trying to push herself up from the quagmire this mud puddle made for the nine year old girl. 

He ran as quickly as he could, trying his best before… before… 

GOD DAMN IT!!! He screamed in his head. 

“AHHHHHHH!!!!!” Ashley screams in horror as this corpse, that came rushing in behind her, has now fallen on her leg. It sunk it’s ragged broken teeth into her leg letting out a foul rotten meat smell, and started to pull up while holding her leg down. Blood started to cover the mud soaked sock. She swung her other leg as hard as she could and with a single blow to the ghoul's head it broke loose, leaving a few teeth behind. The repugnant smell still filling up the area around the girl and this monster. 

Smack, a mental knuckle blow shatters the creature's temple, same spot where the girl managed to hit. It caused a black goo to expel from its head. “Dad...kill it, PLEASE kill it….” the girl said while whimpering and still struggling in the mud. The father had no time to keep hitting the decaying hominoid. He grabs Ashley by the arm and pulls her up and over his shoulder, like he had to perform many times saving people from fires before the hell was let loose on the world years ago. 

He ran as fast as he could. Hearing the sounds of several bodies drunkenly running and stumbling like they had no direction, but he knew, he knew they were coming for them. 

He got on the rubble of an old asphalt road. It was lined on one side with trees. The other side is a field. It was all leading to a hill with an old faded blue wood siding house that had a raised foundation sitting on top. Every window was covered in layers of chicken wire, as well as the porch. The man, with the child still on his back. His entire left side now covered in her blood from her wound. He darted to the back of the house. Laid her down and opened the cellar doors. It was the only access point that was accessible from the ground now. He scooped her up and rushed in, threw her to the ground and grabbed the doors and slammed them shut…

BANG…. SCREEEEECH. Bang… bang… 

The mob was there, but the man looked relieved. The girl is softly crying on the floor, battered, still bleeding, but for the time okay. 

Dan spoke up, “Let’s get you upstairs so I can take a look at that Ashley.” 

“But it hurts Dad!” Ashley was still in shock with all of what happened…

The house creaked as the wind blew. The sound of dripping water coming from right outside the windows, and a few spots inside the house. Sounds from the mob still roaming outside the house can still be heard. They mush through the wet ground and give no fucks that it was raining on them. All they wanted was to get in, but their eagerness could end fatally for them. 

“Oww..” Ashley spoke softly while trying to not look at her leg as her dad examined it. He had her sit on their couch, with her leg propped up on the coffee table. The couch has seen better years. A deep maroon leather couch. Now cracking in all the spots that would have pressure put on it. Pieces of its hide peeling up. The cushions are mismatched. Dan figured it was easier to haul cushions that he found than entire couches he found, also his wife loved the couch. It would take a lot to give it up.

“Ashley, look at me.” Dan said sternly with authority in his voice. 

“Yes..” she turned her head, making sure her eyes stayed straight ahead until her eyes met his. 

“It looks like there are a couple of pieces of bone, maybe, but they are in your skin. Maybe right under the surface. I am going to have to remove them. You are going to have to stay brave, just for a little while longer, okay?”

“Okay…” Ashley said as a tear rolled down her face. 

Dan went to the wall where the medkit was hanging. Grabbed it, and went to the kitchen. He pulled out a box knife that was dedicated to medical use. He sterilized it, put a pot of water on the portable electric stove that now sat on top of his old gas stove. He boiled a sponge, so he could use it to clean Ashley’s wound. He threw the sponge into a bucket he washed along with the box knife. He grabbed a handful of rags that they kept in a box in the corner of their kitchen.

He came back into the living room. Ashley was nearly passing out from the exhaustion of the day’s events. 

“What took you so long!” Ashley said disgruntledly, grinding her teeth to try to ease the pain. 

“Stop that, that isn’t good for your teeth.”  Dan pulled up a chair next to the coffee table, sat down, and put the bucket next to her. He cleaned her leg the best he could, and then put rags underneath her leg to try to catch the blood that would soon run down her leg. 

“Fuck, forgot to grab the damn needlenose…” Dan got up and hit the corner of the coffee table. Both of them made a kind of irritating noise of discomfort. He came back with the pliers, and sat back back down. He grabbed the knife and started to cut. It took a little while, but Dan pulled out three shards and one full tooth out of Ashley’s leg. He cleaned the work he had done and wrapped her leg in goze. 

“Take this.” Dan hands Ashley a pill, “It will help with the pain and might let you rest. I got some work to do, I need you to sleep.”

Ashley took the pill from his hand, mustered up enough spit, and threw the pill in her mouth. She swallowed, turned her small body and curled up on the couch the best she could, keeping the one leg straight.

Sunlight started to beam into Dan’s bedroom, and on to Dan. He felt the warmth of the sun on his side of his arm. He turned and looked at the window.

“Dammmmn… It is going to be muggy as hell.”

Dan with an annoyed face, puts on his old Firefighter suit and helmet on. He leaves and heads to the porch. He looks over and sees Ashley passed out on the couch. His face relaxes for a bit, and stares just a bit at his daughter. 

They have been through so much, the end of days, trying to survive, and their loss of her loving mother and his strong willed wife, Lauran. Lauran was the matriarch of their small family. Dan was away a lot, at the fire station, and when he wasn’t he worked a second job out at a large farm up north. When he came back, he didn’t have the mental capacity to make the most sound choices for the family. After many long winded debates, some would call them fights but Lauran never did, during Lauran’s pregnancy with Ashley, Dan conceded and accepted that it was going to be best if Lauran made more of the important decisions for the family. She was such a wonderful and very thoughtful person. She showed that to Dan, and Dan loved it, but sometimes was bothered by it. He knew he had some unconscious biases towards women, and he tried his best to realize when they popped up so he could address them, or Lauran and him could address them together. It worries him now, that he doesn’t have Lauran to help him see and rethink his ways that were ingrained into him growing up in the South. He hopes he has the power to create an environment that Ashley can grow up and be strong in, and not doubt herself because of him. 

Dan snapped out of the daze and went towards the porch. He had to remove the board from the barricade brackets that were bolted on either side of the door, unlocked several of the locks, and opened it up. Dan stepped out to an enclosed porch. A bit of self generated steam came up from his suit from the sweat that was being generated and fogged up his helmet. The porch had large window-like openings with thin screens on them to keep out the bugs, now all covered in layers of chicken wire. There was no longer furniture to lounge around on after a long day's work. Now there is this tunnel made of chicken wire, boards, steel piping, etc. It was as tall as Dan, standing at six foot four inches, and only the width of a small child. There were also two slits with a metal sliding door already pushed into them and locked into place. One was next to the wall as the tunnel came into the porch and the other at the end of it. 

Dan picked up a long rod that had a point on it. It was leaning on the tunnel. 

“HEY!!! MOTHERFUCKERS!!!”

Sounds from the otherside of the house grew louder. There were five of them. Hardly any hair, a grey tint to their skin, eyes sunken into their skull, their lips had cracks along them. They have been battered quite a bit from the weather. The clothes they had on were almost worn away. Holes throughout, faded colors, or screen printings almost peeled off. Not every one of them had old blood soaked clothes though. Some just looked like senior citizens, but that was normal. 

What took over the world was a form of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis. A fungus that zombifies ants in the rainforest. As the planet grew warmer, and logging took out most of the rainforest, that pesky mold evolved. Typically most fungus doesn’t feel safe inside the likes of mammals. The reason is due to our natural ability of being warm blooded. Fungus was the reason there wasn’t a second coming of lizards after the fall of the dinosaurs, and allowed mammals to dominate the new world. One truth in the world, everything keeps evolving or it is dead. This fungus learned how to survive in a body up to a sustained internal temperature of 100 degrees Farenhiet. An older person, or someone near death didn’t have that ability to kill it off. If you inhale the spores, it will embed into your lungs, and those things can survive up to 110 degrees Farenhiet. Way past the point any person could handle without any sustained damage. The spores won't germinate until it somehow knew it could take over the body. Then it will go up to the brain and turn off all that it didn’t need to take over the rest. 

The ghouls got closer. Dan spotted the one that was in the lead. He knew it was the one that got Ashley. With its mouth open breathing out what looked like ash, it had missing teeth and blood, that is dried now, but it had a trail down the creature's chin. 

“Alright motherfuckers, come on over. That’s right, you want me dead! hahaha. Well we have that in common.” 

Both of the slit doors in the tunnel were closed. Dan grabs the one closest to the wall and he opens it. Because the opening is so small, it is hard for multiple of them to get in. The ragged tooth ghoul was the first to squeeze into the tunnel. As soon as its middle part of the body was in the tunnel, Dan started to push the sliding metal door in. This prevents dealing with more than one at a time. He pushed it shut right on another ghoul’s hand, smashing and cutting it into almost half. It yelled and pulled away. Black goo poured from it’s hand, and it ripped its finger inorder to get free. 

Ragged Tooth tried to get into a position to break free, but it was just too much in an awkward spot. It is side stepping, with the tunnel touching its back and front. Dan with the rod in hand stared at Ragged Tooth. Hatred filled his eyes, and lifted the rod up and shoved it through the tunnel into Ragged Tooth’s caved in head. It seemed forever for it to stop moving, as Dan just watched it, tears running down his face. 

Dan opened the other door of the tunnel that was inside the porch and dragged out the finally lifeless body. Slam the door after he did this, which made the other being start beating at the chicken wire. Then he began to pat down it’s clothes. He found a wallet, a set of keys, and that was basically it. Ragged Tooth’s actual name was Dominic Raleigh. He would have been 38 this year. This was a photo in his wallet. It was Dominic, a woman (probably his wife), and two boys (more than likely his sons). This man had a life before this, he had a story. Dan set the life of this person to the side, this is what Dan thought about the things he found on these people, this is who they were before everything. 

Dan dragged the body to the other side of the door that allowed entry into the house. Dan repeated on what he did with Dominic. Their names were: Melony, would have been 67 years old; Bruce, 58; Lela, Dominic’s wife, age 37; and Bing, he would have just turned 70. 

Dan layed Lela next to Dominic. He stared at their disfigured faces. A husband and wife that stayed together as they went into their own hell. 

What happened to their boys. Dan thought. What would have happened to Ashely if I died that day…

Dan took their bodies in, the door to the basement was next to the door that led to the porch. Down in the basement, he prepared the bodies to be burned. Dan figured that it was the best way to handle the bodies, instead of burying them. Fire seems to not draw them in. It is like they know it could hurt them, so they stay clear. 

Tennessee

I’ve gotten to enjoy the beginning of spring in Tennessee. I’m staying at an Airbnb. I think it is the first apartment I’ve stayed in. The apartment complex consists mainly of hispanic immigrants. They mainly all speak Spanish. 

The first night was interesting, I guess. I got in, and decided to not go out. A woman answered the door. Smiled, and gestured to come in. Showed me my room. The door had the name Alex on it, which looked like a child wrote it. I believe the place is a 2 bedroom apartment, and a family lives in it. To earn a bit of money they airbnb their child’s room. Or childrens’ room. When I went to use the restroom there were a boy and a girl at their dinner table. It is a clean room, and the bed isn’t the worst I’ve slept in.

The first exciting thing of the night was the fire alarm. Kids of the complex pulled the alarm. What made it worse, it didn’t seem like it called the fire department. The alarm was going off for like an hour. I watched two shows. I even called their office. I believe maintenance was the one that turned off the alarm, the fire department. I pondered, this sucks for the people here. The apartment complex could burn completely down, and people lose everything, due to… my guess, so authorities don’t find out there are undocumented people living there? 

Anyways, the second surprise I got that night was when I turned off the lights and went to bed. I’m on a full size bed, so my feet hang off most of the time. I heard a jingle. Like from a sleighbell. I thought it was nothing, then I felt a sharp needle like pain in my foot, then the sounds of something catching the cloth of the bed as it came down…. I got up with excitement. I knew what it was from the moment I felt pain! It was a kitten!!! This mid length hair siamese kitten was sitting under the bed. It was awesome. Such a cute kitty. It did want out of the room after it checked me out. But it made me happy before I went to sleep.

The next day I awoke. I knew I wanted to go to Jack Daniel’s Distillery. But I have not been as productive as I have been. Woke up and started watching videos, didn’t read, and it was about 11am when I finally got up. Took a shower, then decided that I wanted to get food between where I was and Jack Daniel’s. Found a midpoint and found two interesting places. Sent to my friends to choose for me. They chose Buster’s Place in Murfreesboro, TN. I got a burger that had a half pound patty, bacon jam, whipped feta cheese, jalapenos, and normal fixings too. The only thing that would make the burger from a 9/10 to a 10/10 would be butter toasting the buns. They didn’t do that, which I found weird. Outside of that, if you are going from Nashville to Jack Daniel’s Distillery, go to this place for lunch! 

After I got the burger I went to Luxembourg, TN. The county that this town is in is a dry county. They have Jack Daniels there, and it is a Dry County. Like I feel like that was done by Jack Daniels, to have their employees not be able to have any other liquor than Jack. Of course, there is a loophole for them. They can sell their Jack. The place was really cool though. The yeast smell just lofted all over the place. It smelled like the most nutty brownie ever. Like I could just taste it. Wanted some ice cream with this smell. 

Finished my last two nights at two different breweries. I enjoyed the time I had in Tennessee. 

Statue of Jack Daniel. 

Am I Evil...

Am I Evil… 

This thought just keeps popping up in my head. I can’t get rid of it. I know what I say shouldn’t be wrong. But it feels like it. How is asking questions, showing people what is going on, evil? 

My dad told me that my ideas are vile, that there is overwhelming “proof” to disprove my points. Like what evidence? I have a whole community behind me backing me up, that has written countless amounts of articles proving my points. But my mother cries when we are at the dinner table. I have created so much tension, that she doesn’t even speak to me now. I don’t know what to do.

My dad began to beat me. I don’t give a fuck, I know they are wrong, they just can’t see it. I have to keep pushing, keep trying to make them know the truth. Maybe they will forgive me later? I don’t know… 

What they see I am doing is immoral, and how they conduct themselves, what I think and say is immoral. It goes against everything that my family stands for. I hurt them badly, but I haven’t killed them. My words have been just within this house.

Maybe I should push these ideas further. It could destroy families, our entire community, but it is needed. What our community thinks and unconsciously does should be wrong, it should be evil, not ME!

Afterword…

I wanted to write something about how Evil could be blurred. This is just a feeler. To see if I want to write something more, a bigger story. What I wanted to do is confuse the reader. Was this person actually doing something evil? Were they a white supremistist in a progressive household or did they support LGBTQ rights in a very alt-right religious household. Evil is the act of doing something profoundly immoral and knowing they are doing it and continuing even if it hurts others; however morality is relative. 

Toddler's Reaccurring dream

Thoughts for today 3/19/2021

Just finished reading my third book in three weeks. All by Octavia Butler. This one was a collection of her short stories. Next up will be Infomocracy. Not one of Octavia’s books. I’m ready for it. 

I feel like I am allowing my brain to adapt, to learn, and to wander freely. It is a good feeling. I am reaching out and talking to a lot more people than before, with the intent to connect. 

Writing has become a joy too. I was stuck in advanced english classes when I was younger, because I was placed in all the other advanced subjects, and there wasn’t a normal english class for the period that I had open. Actually, 6th grade, I went from being in LD (Learning Disabilities) classes to normal classes, then placed in advanced classes all within a single semester. It was a roller coaster. 

Anyways, I stayed in advanced english classes for the rest of my secondary education. Which meant that I had to write. What made it worse was that my friends wrote better than me. In 8th grade, our teacher just had us write for short story competitions. Not really sure on why. But it felt like everyone won one, except for me. This really discouraged me. Which reflected in my work when I went to college. I also had an issue with spelling, and grammar. I was a mess. 

The dominos that have fallen to get me to the spot of finding joy in writing: having vivid dreams since I was a toddler; living with with grandpa, because he wrote and told his stories all the time to me; then me telling my stories of my crazy adventures and dreams; allowing myself to enjoy learning new things, and making myself always wanting to learn - this helped with vocab actually; my friend Mike, he is the king of correction. When it comes to grammar, word structure, spelling, etc, he was there to correct; me leaving my job; and my current set up. I write my stories on my cell phone while using a bluetooth full keyboard with a 10 key on it. This has made it so much easier than a laptop. I always need my phone, and I pack my keyboard with me. And it was way cheaper than buying a laptop. 

Than learning another language. I don’t know where it will take me. But I am engaging others so help me learn french. I always wanted to speak another language. I feel like I am ready now. I feel like it can widen my worldview, and take me places I couldn’t reach before. That is my drive in it. 

Finally, I am scared. Freighted. One thing I have come to know is you can see your future, and that is really scary. You can see the different paths, and it feels so damn easy to take the easiest path, then in hindsight, criticize myself for not doing the other paths; not speaking up; just not…. That is easy. Doubt is easy. It is also the most dull pain too. The one that makes you content, makes you look for easy pleasures. Making you become accepting of what happens to you, and to others around you. Dull pain takes away your power to raise and to take control. 

I don’t know what will help me break the habit of doubt. Anti-depressant medicine sure helps though haha. Trying to engage and to connect really helps too. Not doom scrolling is a big help too. Setting tasks in a task tracker, and feeling proud of myself when I accomplish a task, rather feeling disappointed when I don’t get to a task, or put off a task. I know I am human. I know I will have my faults, but I am human, and I have a world of feeling rather than just doubt. I forgive myself and ask, is that task I missed important. Yes, then do it then, and get the feeling of being proud of yourself. All these things have been helping out a lot. Looking to see when my environment changes, will it take some of these things away? I feel like I need to find what has been working, and make sure to create and choose my environment that will help foster these things that help. 

I know this is a ramble, but it felt good to ramble and put my thoughts down. Now I am hungry and want to explore the city I am in. 

Thank you all. You may just read my writings, you may reach out, you may just do tiny things. I recognize that, and I appreciate... you.

Thoughts for Today 3/19/2021

Thoughts for today 3/19/2021

Just finished reading my third book in three weeks. All by Octavia Butler. This one was a collection of her short stories. Next up will be Infomocracy. Not one of Octavia’s books. I’m ready for it. 

I feel like I am allowing my brain to adapt, to learn, and to wander freely. It is a good feeling. I am reaching out and talking to a lot more people than before, with the intent to connect. 

Writing has become a joy too. I was stuck in advanced english classes when I was younger, because I was placed in all the other advanced subjects, and there wasn’t a normal english class for the period that I had open. Actually, 6th grade, I went from being in LD (Learning Disabilities) classes to normal classes, then placed in advanced classes all within a single semester. It was a roller coaster. 

Anyways, I stayed in advanced english classes for the rest of my secondary education. Which meant that I had to write. What made it worse was that my friends wrote better than me. In 8th grade, our teacher just had us write for short story competitions. Not really sure on why. But it felt like everyone won one, except for me. This really discouraged me. Which reflected in my work when I went to college. I also had an issue with spelling, and grammar. I was a mess. 

The dominos that have fallen to get me to the spot of finding joy in writing: having vivid dreams since I was a toddler; living with with grandpa, because he wrote and told his stories all the time to me; then me telling my stories of my crazy adventures and dreams; allowing myself to enjoy learning new things, and making myself always wanting to learn - this helped with vocab actually; my friend Mike, he is the king of correction. When it comes to grammar, word structure, spelling, etc, he was there to correct; me leaving my job; and my current set up. I write my stories on my cell phone while using a bluetooth full keyboard with a 10 key on it. This has made it so much easier than a laptop. I always need my phone, and I pack my keyboard with me. And it was way cheaper than buying a laptop. 

Than learning another language. I don’t know where it will take me. But I am engaging others so help me learn french. I always wanted to speak another language. I feel like I am ready now. I feel like it can widen my worldview, and take me places I couldn’t reach before. That is my drive in it. 

Finally, I am scared. Freighted. One thing I have come to know is you can see your future, and that is really scary. You can see the different paths, and it feels so damn easy to take the easiest path, then in hindsight, criticize myself for not doing the other paths; not speaking up; just not…. That is easy. Doubt is easy. It is also the most dull pain too. The one that makes you content, makes you look for easy pleasures. Making you become accepting of what happens to you, and to others around you. Dull pain takes away your power to raise and to take control. 

I don’t know what will help me break the habit of doubt. Anti-depressant medicine sure helps though haha. Trying to engage and to connect really helps too. Not doom scrolling is a big help too. Setting tasks in a task tracker, and feeling proud of myself when I accomplish a task, rather feeling disappointed when I don’t get to a task, or put off a task. I know I am human. I know I will have my faults, but I am human, and I have a world of feeling rather than just doubt. I forgive myself and ask, is that task I missed important. Yes, then do it then, and get the feeling of being proud of yourself. All these things have been helping out a lot. Looking to see when my environment changes, will it take some of these things away? I feel like I need to find what has been working, and make sure to create and choose my environment that will help foster these things that help. 

I know this is a ramble, but it felt good to ramble and put my thoughts down. Now I am hungry and want to explore the city I am in. 

Thank you all. You may just read my writings, you may reach out, you may just do tiny things. I recognize that, and I appreciate... you.

Octavia Bulter Tips on success, Persist

Words from Octavia E. Butler that I would like to share. Read this in Blood Child and Other Stories. 

She is talking about rules of becoming a writer, but I think this can apply in so many more things:

“Here are some potential impediments for you to forget about:

First forget inspiration. Habit is more dependable. Habit will sustain you whether you’re inspired or not. Habit will help you finish and polish your stories. Inspiration won’t. Habit is persistence in practice. 

Forget talent. If you have it, fine. Use it. If you don’t have it, it doesn’t matter. As habit is more dependable than talent. Never let pride or laziness prevent you from learning, improving your work, changing its direction when necessary. Persistence is essential to any writer - the persistence to finish your work, to keep writing in spite of rejection, to keep reading, studying, submitting work for sale. But stubbornness, the refusal to change unproductive behavior or to revise unsalable work can be lethal to your writing hopes.

Finally, don’t worry about imaginations. You have all the imagination you need, and all the reading, journal writing, and learning you will be doing will stimulate it. Play with your ideas. Have fun with them. Don’t worry about being silly or outrageous or wrong. So much of writing is fun. It’s first letting your interests and your imagination take you anywhere at all. Once you’re able to do that, you’ll have more ideas than you can use. Then the real work of fashioning them into a story begins. Stay with it. 

Persist.”

March 16th Lake Michigan

Yesterday I went and saw Lake Michigan. That lake just mystifies me. It looks like an ocean. Feels like the ocean. There are waves crashing in, and you can’t see land on the other side. Just an endless horizon of water. But… It doesn’t taste like the ocean. Yes, I went up and grabbed some of the water and tasted it, not drank it. I’m not that dumb haha. There was no salt in the air. It was weird, especially since the middle of last year to now, I have interacted with both the Pacific and Atlantic Ocean, more than I ever had before. I actually have found myself really liking the oceans. 

Anyways, I decided to be a kid for a bit. There were huge dunes of sand. And I mean huge. So I ran up them in my fancy pair of shoes, because I was too lazy to change them out. I had my boots, and two pairs of running shoes in my car, since I basically live out of it. But nope, I decided to run around in my dress shoes. Koala

It was a lot of fun, but I am really out of shape. I was out of breath so much. I even tried to go down the dunes on this board I found. It didn’t work out, and then when it didn’t I was going to try again and looked down, and there were two screws sticking up. I was like, nope. 

Then I saw a swing set in front of the lake. Of course I went over and swung on it.

Moral of this story, enjoy things, still have a level of smartness, but take advantage of the things that are around you. There is a lot of untapped joy out there. It is up to you on whether or not you will tap into it. 

Same Sh** Different Time Period

“Ughhh, YES Dee… I will get that for you Dee… motherfucker.” 

“You know I can hear you right Chaz.” I said this while rolling my eyes.

“Shit, umm… Yes, sorry, really sorry.” Chaz said quickly, then just silence that was broken once in a while by the clicking of a mouse or a keyboard, or something else, not really sure. 

I guess I’ll do a quick intro. My name is Elijah, I go by E. I’m in my late 30s. I currently work for this Automotive Finance Company. It isn’t bad, since I’m a manager, I can basically work anywhere I want, a perk of this job I guess. Take full advantage of it. I even get a deal on their leases, a full TEN percent off… I just got one of their newer models. Full autonomos electric sleep/work pad. I have a wonderful view while working, watching the road go by and the sky just right above me from the dome. 

I’m staring at my phone watching my four workers hating their lives. I always wanted this phone since I was a kid. It was in this thin collection of bound paper called popular science. I think the term for it was a magazine. It is just like a scroll page, but on actual paper. My dad had a ton, and I would just go through them as a kid. I think I had an issue that was as old as I am now, the issue was around like 2004. It was talking about the future of cell phones. And it had one that could fold out into a larger screen, but then can go back to this small hand held device. I took it to my dad asking if that has been made yet. He told me there were foldable screen phones, at that time, but there soon would be a phone that would roll their screen up into itself. 

Well within a year when my dad told me that, one came out. It was an instant hit… Actually there was another one like it that was actually out, but it was from some Chinese maker and the US at the time was having issues with them. This one though was from Apple. It blew up because it replaced an iphone, tablet, and macbook all in one. It looked awesome… My dad wouldn’t get it for me. I pleaded, saying it would help me with school, and I could keep up with my friends that I don’t actually see at school. School for the most part then was virtual. 

I thought so much about that phone, and was so angry at my dad for not getting me one. The future was now! He read about this when he was a kid or something. I just couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t be jumping up and down for it too. I knew other friends were getting one, their parents would just get it for them. I think it leased just for $300 a month, far less than what we had spent for food each month, I thought. I was clueless, I know. 

I should have stopped and listened to what my father was trying to teach me then, and I should listen probably now to that message back then too. It is a struggle. He passed away a couple of years after that when he went down to South America. They had and still have seasonal outbreaks of Covid. I guess he got a strain that his vaccine didn’t work against. In a matter of like five days, he was gone. I stayed with my Uncle James, who was the opposite of my dad, after that. 

Damn, calls increased… Let’s see how this goes. 

“Hey y'all, I’m going to get some gig people in to help you all until the volume goes down.”

Heard Kristy first, “THANK FUCKING GOD!”

Next was DC, “You are the best boss ever!”

The other two made sounds of appreciation. 

I think this is the only joy I get, making these guys happy. They do work their asses off, even though I think three of them hate it as much as I do. One person, not sure about. 

I don’t like working with gig people. They can see the names of the systems they have to select for Fall and Joseph (Or it goes by Dee sometimes), Digital CS Providers or DCSP, but that is it. No NPPI data to protect our customers from these randos. But I only will have to deal with these people typically on a Monday for like three hours, and two hours, maybe, for the rest of the week. My peeps don’t like the gig people either that much, because if the DCSP gets confused with what it is reading, typically due to an update to one of the systems, the gig person can’t help it like my people can. Which means, my peeps have to switch over real quick to help the DCSP for the gig worker. 

DCSP is really smart, and such a smoother talker, but because of over processing or something like that, it can’t navigate between systems the company has, at least as of yet. So we still have jobs. My boss told me the department used to be like forty people when she was in my position. Now we have four… 

Wonder what I am going to do tonight. Maybe get an Airbnb Kitch, so I can actually cook up a week's worth of food. This car is awesome. I tell it where to go, and it will go. It will find stations to do a battery change on it’s on, or when I tell it I need to go to a station to get a pop. Has basically a nice ass futon. and a desk area. It isn’t like the cars I would ride in with my dad, then later with Uncle Jimmy. He hated being called Jimmy, but I thought it was funny. Those cars, people actually drove them. I had something similar when I was learning to drive, but thinking about it… I don’t think I’ve manually driven a car in like eight or nine years. Crazy! There are cars still that can, but those are for the hobbiest. 

“Hey guys, 5 more minutes!”

Giggles coming through the speakers.

“Have you all seen that new wireless technology?” I said happily. I typically will talk about random stuff at the end of the day, to get their minds off work and ready for the evening. I think I’m helping them to disconnect, so they can come recharged tomorrow. Also, to be honest… I do it for myself. 

“Ya I say it. Is it like using some sort of like teleporting thing?” DC is like my main person to help the conversation going.

“I read that they are using quantum entanglement. So, not really teleporting, I think. I can’t even begin to think what the future will be like.”

“I can E, it is going to go to hell!” Kristy said.

“Well on that note, it is time to go!!! Bye you all!” 

All my agents said their byes and see you tomorrow. I am going to lay down and take a nap now. 

Afterword

I wanted to tell a story about the future, but through a lens of a person very much like myself. I constantly think about the world around me, but while I was working, had to take care of things. Last couple of years when I worked at Mercedes, I wasn’t too happy, but really did like my agents. That was my favorite part of the job. I still remember when I learned about Google Assistant being able to call restaurants to book a reservation for you, I told my agents then that one day they will be training their replacement. I can just see it being beneficial for a company having a computer to do all the talking, to build rapport with the customers. Customers always like to keep talking to the same person that they think did them well. 

The other part of the story about the car, I am driving around myself. I think it will be more a thing, and leaving in a car is a really cheap option. I actually would love this car in this story, and cannot wait until I get it. But the thing is, I do meet a lot of new people, but it can be lonely on the road. Not seeing familiar faces all the time, does take a toll somewhere. Not sure where yet. 

I hope that I also showed that E had his struggles. His life is something I would love, but I can see how the same shit a different day is still very much real now, and will be real then. 

Thoughts... Digital Nomads

Today I just got into Michigan. This is the 16th state/federal district I’ve been in for the year 2021. I believe I will be in another 18 more states this year. Probably the most states in one year. 2020 I was physically in 20 different states, the most in one year. I am getting used to being on the road, not having a permanent residence for more than 6 months now. I have been seeing friends and family I haven’t seen for years and making some new friends too. I know this lifestyle has been around before I have done it, but it isn’t common. It is still not common. I do believe it will get more common. Greater portion of jobs having exclusive work from home positions, airbnb and other apps coming along that are similar to having a feel of home, abundance of gig work popping up, then looking to the future of autonomous vehicles, and stronger and stronger internet on the roads, more and more people won't have to live just in one spot. Now I am not saying a majority or half a majority will do this. Telecommuting will grow, as companies are looking at cutting costs to physical building space, and costs like TP, water, electricity, internet, etc.  Covid has shown that to them, and forced them to see that. So I just learned this term, Digital Nomad. Someone that lives on the road, but has a job that they can access anywhere using the internet. I believe that will grow. It will be an interesting future. 

App Idea Meeting Buddy Bench

• Meeting New People

• An app that can be used for dating or meeting new people in your area. Maybe you are new to the area, maybe you aren’t good at approaching people to start up new friendships, maybe your work peers all live on the other side of the city. This app is to here to help you. 

• How it works. 

• You select the times of the day and the days that you are available to do a meet up with people. 

• Select the size of group you would like to meet up

• If you are looking to date or just make friends 

• What activities you like to do

• Automatically it will only ask you once if you would like to meet up with people during the days that you selected.

• The days that you say yes,

• It will send you a notification, if it find other parties that say yes, on where to go. 

• a bar

• Restaurant 

• Brewery

• Mini Golf

• Book Store

• etc.

• Once you and the other party gets there, it will call all the parties to link up. 

• How it will make money

• There are a few ways

• Link up with places that we will send the people to. They pay for us to send to the places, however we have the people rate them. 

• Then we could do the traditional route of premium membership. So limiting free to only a few meet ups per month

Shitzport

My random thoughts…

Sitting there, with a foul smell lofting up and all around. I’m staring at my phone, and come across an article about teleportation, and I started to think. 

I hate taking a shit. I do like the feeling of not feeling bloated any more, but I don’t like the smell, the feeling, and the wiping. Truthfully if pooping was like peeing for a guy, I would be ok with it. 

So, as I sat there and I saw that article, I began to think. There might be one day that teleporting technology will take off and advance just like a computer. Starts off big, but will become smaller and smaller. There might be one day that we will have asshole teleporters. Then we can take a shit anywhere we want and there will not be a need for clean up. 

Of course this could be an episode of Black Mirror, where someone hacks into someone Tele-Shitz and sucks up all their intestines and would kill them. Or it sends other people’s shit into them. A lot of things could go wrong haha.

Anyways, I still would like a T-Poop one day haha

Penguin Attack

I can vaguely remember this night. It was just me and my brother sitting in our TV room. The room smelled like old cigarettes, wood panelling walls, red dirty carpet, one window, closet with the washer and dryer side by side, the door to the garage, and the doorway to the long narrow kitchen. The TV was on a TV stand between the door to the garage and the doorway to the kitchen. The full 26 inch Box TV faced towards the window. We had two coaches. Tan, square, and rough. I was probably two and half at this time, my brother being ten. We were watching Batman Returns, which just came out that year in June of ‘92. 

I’m sitting on the floor, my brother on the coach. The scene when Penguin is introduced to his mayoral staff for the time came up. He was introduced to two people, one of which was named Josh, which was also my brother's name. I looked at him and went back to the TV. If you haven’t seen the movie or need a refresher, Josh made a joke about Penguin’s complexion, and Penguin joked at least he didn’t have a bloody nose. Then Josh leans in and asks what Penguin meant by this, and Penguin bit his nose. 

My brother watching this all unfold notices his little brother turn, and lunge at him, clomping down right on his nose. I didn’t see Penguin ever let go, so I stayed on. It took both my mother and father to pry my mouth open and off my brother’s nose. 

My brother after that, would make sure he sat far away from me when we watched movies after that point. 

The scene if you would like to watch it: https://youtu.be/wNWy3YmM3Kw

Last kidnap attempted on me

The last time I was almost kidnapped. This time it was probably when I was in 7th grade, a couple of years after the last incident. I was riding my bike in the neighborhood across from mine. I have ridden on 75th street a bit, going to school. I didn’t think much of it, as I was strolling around on a weekend. Near the end of 75th that led to 21st street in Tulsa, a green Dodge Crystler van pulled up next to me. I knew something was up, and I started to pedal as fast as I could. The sliding door opened up and three young looking black men popped out. I would assume a couple were in their teens, and one in their early twenties. I already had momentum to avoid them. They all jumped back into their van, and the van began following me. Looking back, I believe the move I pulled next could have ended up badly for me. I crossed 75th street to the otherside crossing in front of the van. Maybe they didn’t want to damage the bike, maybe I was too close to 21st for them, I really don’t know why they didn’t ram into me. 

I got around the block, they were still following me, and I knew I needed to get to people. That would protect me more than trying to ride away. They could keep up, and there was no creek or anything like that I could cross to lose them. As I rounded around the block, watching the much older man that was driving. He was a bit bigger. A dad bod some would say. Grey hair and a thin grey beard. I looked and saw a couple leave their house. I road my bike right behind them, stopped and stared at the van, like “I dare you to”. This couple wouldn’t be able to do much except make a scene. I figured they probably knew their neighbors and would make them come out to check on them if the van of people did do something. The couple, who were probably in their 50s, just looked at me. I didn’t talk to them, I just watched the van. As soon as I saw the van take off, I took off. 

I believe I saw the van a few times, but they never attempted to grab me again. This time around, I think they were going to grab me to steal my bike, or to beat me up. Nothing sexual, at least I assumed. 

That was my last time almost getting kidnapped. I may still have a deep down fear of someone abducting me, but the risk is so low now that it doesn’t bother me. I believe the few times has helped my awareness of what is around me, and to mitigate my risk. Also it helped with my Hot/Cold gap. What I think I would do vs what I would actually do. 

2nd Experinence on almost being Kidnapped

The next time I almost got kidnapped came the summer before I went into the 6th grade. My mother, brother, and I moved into Cris’s place. Cris was my mother’s boyfriend at the time, and 3 years down the road, husband. We moved into his place, because through the courts, we lost our house to George, my father. Cris welcomed us into his home, at least kinda. He liked me at the time, but not so much of my brother, but that is a story for a different time. 

I didn’t have friends in the area yet, so I just rode my bike around the neighborhood. On the southeast end of this small neighbor had a double retention ditch. If you don’t know what a retention ditch is, I will explain it. It is used for floods. It is a large bowl in the earth that typically has a stream of water running through it and leads to storm tunnels. The purpose if it rains hard, these will hold a large amount of water, preventing massive floods that were seen in the 80’s in Tulsa. They typically have a track around the top of them. Always seemed like the gravel on them were kitty litter. 

This one on the edge of my neighborhood had two ditches combined. Two large circles met in on their edges in the middle of the park. I was hanging out on the one that was connected to most of the neighborhood. I was just sitting on the track that was over the tunnels that connected the two ditches with the stream running through it. My bike was next to me. I like going there, it was peaceful, and I was able to do a lot of thinking there. 

I looked up and across the ditch on the road that ran alongside it, a green late 90s model Camaro was parked and a man leaning on the side of it. He was blond, wearing jeans, and some type of shirt. Had sunglasses on, and his head was pointed in my direction. I had a feeling before I lifted my head that I was being watched. 

I first thought, naw. He is just here to probably think too. But I just didn’t feel comfortable. I got up and moved to the other side of the other ditch. Away from the line of sight. Figure if my first hypothesis was correct, I wouldn’t see the guy again, unless I rode back over to him. I posted up now where the creek ran into the ditches. It took only a few minutes, but there he was. He moved his car to the next street over to be in line of sight of me. He parked and got out of his car, and leaned up against his car again. 

I then threw my hypothesis out the window, and came up with a new one. He was there for me and I needed to get home. I decided to ride my bike on a road that paralleled my neighborhood, but didn’t connect to it. It went north and south. I went from near 15th street in Tulsa Oklahoma, to 11th street. I thought if I saw him pull down this road from 11th, I had multiple ways to get away. There was a property that was still a bunch of trees, but a trail that led towards Memorial. Or I could turn around and ride back to the Double Ditches. 

I didn’t see him and I got onto 11th road up it and back into my neighborhood. Then I heard screeching of tires behind me. That green Camaro turned back into my neighborhood from 11th street. FUCK

I had to think quickly, and chose the first thing that came to my mind. I turned my bike around and faced towards him. I started pedaling as fast as I could towards his car. My thought was, if I got close, I could pop my bike up and throw it into the windshield of the car and run and try to hop fences of the houses near me. That wasn’t the plan of the driver. He slammed on his breaks, put his car into reverse and floored it until he was on 11th street. Drifted his car to align with the right direction which the traffic would flow and took off. I turned around and rode as fast as I could back home. I don’t remember if I told my Mom or Cris that I was being followed or not, but I knew I was out of danger. I never saw that car again.

Almost being kidnapped. Fear set in

The last time I was almost kidnapped. This time it was probably when I was in 7th grade, a couple of years after the last incident. I was riding my bike in the neighborhood across from mine. I have ridden on 75th street a bit, going to school. I didn’t think much of it, as I was strolling around on a weekend. Near the end of 75th that led to 21st street in Tulsa, a green Dodge Crystler van pulled up next to me. I knew something was up, and I started to pedal as fast as I could. The sliding door opened up and three young looking black men popped out. I would assume a couple were in their teens, and one in their early twenties. I already had momentum to avoid them. They all jumped back into their van, and the van began following me. Looking back, I believe the move I pulled next could have ended up badly for me. I crossed 75th street to the otherside crossing in front of the van. Maybe they didn’t want to damage the bike, maybe I was too close to 21st for them, I really don’t know why they didn’t ram into me. 

I got around the block, they were still following me, and I knew I needed to get to people. That would protect me more than trying to ride away. They could keep up, and there was no creek or anything like that I could cross to lose them. As I rounded around the block, watching the much older man that was driving. He was a bit bigger. A dad bod some would say. Grey hair and a thin grey beard. I looked and saw a couple leave their house. I road my bike right behind them, stopped and stared at the van, like “I dare you to”. This couple wouldn’t be able to do much except make a scene. I figured they probably knew their neighbors and would make them come out to check on them if the van of people did do something. The couple, who were probably in their 50s, just looked at me. I didn’t talk to them, I just watched the van. As soon as I saw the van take off, I took off. 

I believe I saw the van a few times, but they never attempted to grab me again. This time around, I think they were going to grab me to steal my bike, or to beat me up. Nothing sexual, at least I assumed. 

That was my last time almost getting kidnapped. I may still have a deep down fear of someone abducting me, but the risk is so low now that it doesn’t bother me. I believe the few times has helped my awareness of what is around me, and to mitigate my risk. Also it helped with my Hot/Cold gap. What I think I would do vs what I would actually do.