Dawn of the Dead...the December Sun is Setting, Isn't It.

I played this game online until I found the phrase that I wanted. Some one on that game had a sense of humor. And what of me? Gaining knowledge from a being an online gamer? Well, you can draw your own conclusions, I suppose.

Never argue with an idiot. They'll just drag you down to their level, and then beat you with their experience.

Oh, yeah, ain't that the truth.

So, we still hang people, do we. We still drag people from the backs of pick-up trucks in my state, sometimes. Everyone so excited to hang someone. The TV was all the rage with violence this weekend. Torture displays to justify the hanging. Torture images to justify a war. It's a fucking place where you want to hurt someone else that bad. It's a weird place to want to hurt an entire nation of people. We just keep repeating that lesson. With the same results. As if the lessons recorded by Piggy, in Lord of the Flies, was a recording of real life, not fiction. We just keep producing people to do this kind of crap.

I was at coffee last night. I spoke about my childhood fights. I grew up in a place where people were so bored that's what they did....drink and fight. I was lucky, I was so scared every time that most times I won. Note that the word won...well, it goes there. That word won.

I can only recall one fight that I had where I was the attacker. No real reason for the attack. It was a fight about being part of the group, about being cool, about being top dog. It was stupid. It was ego. And after I beat this girl up...let the rage in me take over...I stood tall looking at what I had done...and I puked. I puked hard. It was as if my body knew more than myself. My body had the reaction first. My body knew that is was vile and rejected it. My body rejected the evil. I never did that again. I had learned my lesson.

I don't think that it's hard to learn that lesson. I suppose it's a valuable lesson, in some aspects. I don't live in much fear. I know what I'm capable of doing should the occasion call for it.

I had a stalker during my pregnancy. He was a neighbor. He went crazy on drugs and alcohol, and focused on me. He had said outloud that he wanted to cut out my baby and kill me. He banged on the walls separating our apartments. He followed me to my car, the trash can...everywhere. The cops couldn't really do much. The laws are such, that he would have to actually attack, then they could get him. I was asked if I had a gun.

I had a gun.

I sat with that gun one night, when the neighbor was loud and scary. I just started crying. I was asked if I could kill this man if I had to. Yes, I could kill him. Yes, I would if it were him or my baby. But, I cried.

The idea that I would have to do this. The idea that my unborn where hear the blast. The idea that my child would know that as one of his first things to know. Jesus was that just so stupid. I mourned deeply for that idea. I mourned deeply for the sadness and loneliness that my neighbor must have, that was making him act out, that might cost him his life. I thought how stupid we all were for not having a better plan. It wasn't a special circumstance. Lots of women go through this every year...and men too...children, too. We have built hiding places for people. We have had to build hiding places...Pause and think about that.

There are so many against the death penalty. I cannot say that if I had been under the rule of this man, that I wouldn't want to see him hanged. I cannot say that if someone hurt my family, I wouldn't want them dead, that I wouldn't want to do the killing myself. We are all capable of that emotion...even if you say you've not got it...that's a lie...a lie to yourself...it's in all of us. But, I didn't watch the TV...I turned it off. Why?

Well, there's a fine line, the tiniest line, between killing because you have to, and killing because your ignorant, or killing because you feel like it.

And we should all mourn a killing.

We are not connected as a world...there aren't many secrets anymore. We can do better. I have to do better.

You Just Can't Make Some People Cool

December has always been a hard month. I've never been truly happy. It could be the pressure of the Holidays, the pressure of my birthday, my Season Effective Disorder. How's to say. But, every December rolls around with its crap, and there I am sitting in it.

But, this year....this year, and why this year?, I don't know...but, this year, I've changed. When does a person change? What really makes a person change? Did happen over night? Has it really taken all this time, and now, just now, I'm seeing it? Hard to say.

I didn't really feel that bad this year. Not much at all.

In fact, I might have been over excited about the season. I wanted everyone to be happy. Shit, if I can be happy...then, it's not that fucking hard. I put up decorations. I attended parties. I made cookies. Organized a food drive. Gave gifts to everyone I knew. Made the phone calls. I even mailed out cards. I mailed out fucking Christmas cards. Yes, you may need to sit down.

I have been completely out of control.

I'm a bit tired now...and a bit reflective. I recall a poem that my friend Ric once wrote about giving everyone bags of shit on Christmas, and being nice the rest of the year. He has lofty dreams...that resonate within me. It was a striking story. If we could only follow Ric. He might be the smartest.

I saw one person going through a divorce bonding with another lonely person, who is already bitter and divorced. I took some popshots from these two, about how I just didn't know, wasn't adult enough, hadn't been where they've been, etc. All the pooh-poohing they threw. I did not go to church...however, I knew people who did. I asked them to light a candle for these two. However, I'm not sure if God himself, or even the Pope paid a visit, that it would have any baring on their state of minds. Let's all sit on the self righteous pitty potty. Oh, how they picked on me...how they needed to pick on me. My answer was to buy and hang Christmas ornaments from the dollar store, and hang them around the office. I also organized the holiday lunch, bought them gifts, and made them participate in the White Elephant Gift Exchange! They had fun...don't lie. They didn't even get it, that I had gotten them!

I know of two people in therapy, and one who's suicidal. And, I took some popshots from the family...mostly about how snooty I am with my gifts, and showing how much I have that other people don't, etc. Me? Rich? Me? Snooty? Such a long way from the cotton field that I grew up in. Such a long way from the bad credit, homeless girl, that tried to off herself one year. Didn't the pickled eggs and hogs head cheese show anymore? It's still there. I loves me a good pickled egg...they just don't like anyone else within a five foot radius a few hours later. The thought of me being some classy broad, just cracks me up. I've certainly never been accused of that before.

Normally, I would have taken this all in...into myself...that it was me. Not this year. Not that much. I didn't want to fix anyone...goodbye co-dependence. And I didn't want to hear it either. I just didn't listen. If these people wanted or needed to sit there, that was ok, but, I wasn't going to sit there, too. Not this year. No, not this year.

I found it humorous, and a bit weird about my self image. You know that image, the one that you keep to yourself, about yourself. Versus the one that people project, that people keep of you. So funny. All of the people that talked to me, thought certain things about me, couldn't have been more wrong. And somehow, had I fooled them? Or, was it that I finally felt comfortable with all of me? I can't self analyze to much today. I am laughing right now, as I'm writing. I have a serious case of the giggles.

When did people stop seeing me, like I see me? When did that happen?

Example: I was speaking to a guy about working. He sneered and said, "What could I know about hard labor?" He really thought that I had been on easy street my entire life. I didn't justify to him, no reason, I would never see him again.

Example: I offered some Pimm's, at Christmas. The family, who didn't know what that was, rolled their eyes, as if to say how fancy I was. So, not fancy...cheap at the liquor store.

To combat the work people, and their sadness, I took my bobble head birthday gift. It's Anna Nicole....very cool. They just think it's inappropriate, and I shouldn't worship her. I bought my man some Led Zepplin underwear for Christmas...I suppose that wouldn't be funny either.

Fucking people are just so silly. We all make mountains out of mole hills. This year I got all the gifts that I could have ever wanted. My friends that really know me got me stuff that spoke about them and spoke about me. When did that happen? When did I get that lucky? All of these incredibly special people brought to me, my favorite things...they knew me...they knew the image of myself that I carry with me, and it all came together...the image they have, and the image I have...together...working. Fucking fantastic. That was the true gift. This year, I was not alone. This year, I had stuff to share. This year...this fucking year.

And what of next year? According to my horoscope, I am to repeat what I was doing in 1995, with bigger and better features, and way less hullabaloo. I can't really recall 1995. That's what I'm been thinking about. What the hell was I doing in 1995. Well, if the horoscope is correct, I won't even have to remember it that much...it's already been foretold that I'm going to do it. And I'd better not try to force it anyway. I hope it was good. I do have a really shady past, and wouldn't care to repeat much of that.

My friend stated that you just can't make some people cool. Then again, some of us were just born cool.

To next year.