Sunday, July 13, 2014

Good and Bad Shit


Why does anybody travel in this part of the world? I found the guy who was at the Chili cookout last year, with the pan of "adult" corn bread. He used coconut oil, so it was really good, good cornbread.

Huh. How long was I at his place? It's pissing down rain. I gotta get my windshield wiper on this old VW bug fixed. Just my luck, I'd run over a zombie. They don't seem to care about rain, and if you hit one, jeeze, you can skid for miles. For his - or her - sake and mine, I hope they're all tucked up in some nice, safe hole tonight.

I didn't expect it to be so strong. I think my guy made it weaker last time. Because I was really hungry, and I ate all three pieces on a empty stomach. Now I'm seeing purple spots, and I don't want to drive back to the Hoko. Officer Goofy will probably take me in anyway, even if pot is legal now. Well, it would be fair. This is very much Under The Influence. And Goofy doesn't like my old bug, anyway. They used to be called PotMobiles.

I really don't feel good. I haven't driven that far. I need to go to the bus parking lot, and just maybe get some sleep. Just pull carefully in here, make sure nobody's on my tail at 80 miles an hour, with something so big they can't brake, and only one headlight. Just ease the car in here, off the road.

Quietly, pull in, stop the car.Yup, turn off the lights - I'm on autopilot now - and just listen to the rain on the roof of the car.

Jeesus Christ! What just ran through the parking lot? Is it a zombie? Were those brains, a bad hoodie, or just long hair? I'm not getting out of this car.

WTF? It's jumping up and down and screaming. Am I being threatened? Man, the purple spots are getting worse. I'm gonna pass out, I swear.

Oh, no, somebody's at the door. Did I lock it? Lemme see. Oh, my hands are numb. I can't tell.

I knew I should have stopped going to that guy.


I'm gonna die.



Here?

Ohhh Shit, OH shit! Months of planning and I missed the bus while I was in that stupid portapotty? Maybe it's just late but the bus is supposed to come at 6:16 and it's after 7. It was so beautiful out here and I was so happy coming to my new life, at least until it started clouding up. The forecast was showers early and clearing about noon. It's not clearing up. I shouldn't have eaten those stupid fish and chips in Port Angeles. I missed the earlier bus and the grease tasted funny. But I'm trying to make my money last. I shouldn't have gone off to smoke in the woods. I should have just gone to the portapotty before it was too late. Shit, now it's starting to rain. Oh, shit, should I hitchhike? Maybe I look enough like a guy that I won't get raped by some crazy guy. Maybe I ought to just hide in the woods so some crazy doesn't see me alone out here and kill me or take my money. Do I wait out here until morning? Now I gotta go again. Stupid fish and chips! What if some guy stops to use this portapotty and finds me in there and gets me? What if there is a bear in the woods that mauls me? And I don't get any reception out here either. Stupid AT&T. I did bring extra underwear, but where am I going to change? Now its really raining. Shit. Whoever finds this, this is how I died. If this is how it was meant to be. 

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Alone Alone Alone


I'm so sick of the stupid nickname. I can't even hide at school. I don't want to go to school; I don't want to go to the pow-wows. Everybody says my family never talks to anybody, and even they go to the pow-wows. I wish I knew who found out about "Snotboy," and thought it was a cool nickname.

Nobody has anything I need up here. Nobody thinks about what anything means. It's all money money money. I guess some of my people used to live like that, but nobody can do it any more. Or they say they can't.

I don't even want money. I just want to be left alone. I could live up here, all my myself, I could even hide. I could be like the deer and the young bears, moving on ahead of the clearcuts. I don't want to be like the old bears, that can't think how to move on, and eat goats, and get shot.

I'm writing this in my alone place - a burnt-out cedar stump, a big one. I've got everything I need here, because the burn didn't take out the center of the tree. I have a roof. I have tinder, all that dry cedar powder. I have a place to sleep, when nobody's missing me, which is all the time. I have a place to hide my notebook - the paper one, not the electrical ones, because I don't need even that. I wish I could be naked like the animals and live here without ever coming in.

I even wish I could die like the animals, and just dry away on the beach, so there's nothing left of me but scattered bones and feathers or fur.

I'm named after a spirit; why can't I just be invisible?