Middle Row, Far Right
Again
today, I had the misfortune of being in the line of fire of still another
bullying lowlife. This one was in the form of a (kinda) female security
guard. I was in an empty parking lot, there’s a building there that I’d
never seen any car near, or any person in or near it. I was trying to
film (with my phone) a couple of music videos – playing guitar and singing.
When I first got there, a different security person came up and asked, “Can I
help you?”, I replied, “No, I don’t think so, I’m just going to make a couple
of videos”. The guy said, “Ok, no problem”. So, I kept doing what I
was doing. About an hour later, here comes this miniature security
person, puffs her chest, sneering, glares at me and spits up, “You need to move on”.
I can’t recite the whole exchange, but basically I told her what a pathetic
little ass she was, that if you have no life, and you hate yourself so much, I
guess this is what you do – go screw with other people. After some amount
of smartass from her, I managed to tell her to go fuck herself. It has
never mattered if I walked away, told the person to screw off, or if I ended up
belting somebody (I’ve had to do all three, and I don’t say any of this proudly
or ashamedly, just matter of fact), I always felt equally as bad afterward, for
two reasons. First, how is it that so many people hate themselves so much
(Psych 101), and have so much envy for other people – especially ones who are
going after something, or doing something worthwhile, that they first find a
weapon to hide behind, then look for people to beat over the head with their
bullshit. Second, and the worse of the two, how do I continue to be such
a magnet for these kinds of people. It goes back (as far back as I can
remember) to when I was eight years old, when step mom was so angry that I was
doing something (ever how small it was), that she went outside and pulled up my
corn plants. I was eight, I planted the corn, I ran home from school
every day to weed and water – did it for months, my corn was getting big (it
looked big to me – but I was a little kid). I would sit there with my
plants, sometimes for over an hour, trying to see if the plants would grow
while I was watching. So, one day I ran home from school, to find
my corn plants gone – having been dug up by the vindictive step mom. She
gave me some cockamamie reason why she just HAD to do it, but well…
From that, the contempt I seemed to incite came from the little league baseball
coaches, more teachers than not, the guys I hung around with at Kaimuki Park
from the time I was 12 up until 17, to the high school basketball coaches, to
the second batch of guys I hung around with just out of high school, to bosses
at the two transmission shops I worked at for the five years of my early adult
life, to people in the music business – including musicians, booking agents,
club managers, and even radio people – this has been going on for 35+ years –
right up until this very minute. There were a couple of periods where I
worked “regular” jobs – same – the bullying bosses. FTR, in school, in
jobs, and in music, I was always on time, never missed a day of school or work,
and I was proud to do the best job possible. The current “significant
other” – same B.S., using money as the weapon to hide behind. I wasn’t
bullied as a kid – by other kids, the only bullying I remember as a kid was
parents, teachers, little league coaches, etc., in other words, full grown
adults.
I
seem to get this much more often than most people. I don’t know if it’s
that I’m more sensitive to it, or more aware, or if my energy field moves in
the opposite direction of most people’s, or some other reason, all I know is,
I’ve always said that I would be more than ok if I got what the general population
got. I’m perfectly aware of what many people think of a person who thinks
this way, but well, being that I’m not here to get other people’s permission to
think what I think, I really don’t care.
I’m
not sure I could even describe the degree of contempt, hostility, and
aggression I experience just about every day of my life, you probably wouldn’t
believe me even if I were to describe the half of it. I never felt
welcome in the world, I guess I just learned to live with it. And same, I
say this in the most matter of fact way.
So,
just in the past two weeks, I managed to be on the receiving end of four of
them. The bullying boss – having lost my job after a month because she did not
want to be responsible for what she did – and felt the need to punish the guy
who couldn’t fight back. Shortly before that, it was the old man who
operated the backhoe, who took one look at me, and proceeded to tell me how
tough he was, how brave he was, how “successful” he was, how he liked to drink
all the time, and other such macho crap. I handled him the same way I
always do with guys like that – I proceed to tell them what a screwup and a
dimwit I am. A week ago, I found the gates to the railroad track area
where I was taking my guitar to play a couple times a week – the gates closed,
double padlocked, and the “NO TRESPASSING OR ELSE” sign in full view.
Before this, the place looked like it hadn’t been used or tended to in years,
maybe decades. Apparently, somebody was offended by me being there – even
though I never did anything disrespectful, never left anything for anybody to
clean up, left it just as I found it – always. I also never saw another
soul anywhere near the place. So, four pathetic little humans just in the
past two weeks – that’s not to mention the same throughout my whole life.
For
the record, there has never been a time when I stood up for mice elf, where I
didn’t pay big – as a result of something cowardly that some bullying lowlife
did. Even worse, more and more laws get put into place, in order to
protect lowlifes, to protect smartasses, to protect bullies. The Powers
That Be pretend otherwise, but look around you. Oregon has Measure 11.
The Righteous Right would have you believe that “It’s only for repeat
offenders” – well, bullshit, you punch out some punk in the street, and you can
easily end up in prison for SIXTY MONTHS, that’s FIVE YEARS. Do the
reasoning – punk in the street, five years in prison… and it’s only
getting worse.
I
have a picture of me with my first little league team, I was ten (this one
actually had a decent coach). I’m there, with my goofy grin and my rifle
arm. I’m still that kid, will be till I’m not here anymore. I like
that kid, I like that he still instinctively trusts, instinctively loves,
instinctively gives. On an intellectual level, different story, I've learned to mistrust and dislike most humans, but instinctively, well... My instinctive trust and all the rest, has rarely been a two way street, but I guess
somewhere in here, it doesn’t matter all that much.
I don’t know where I go from
here, and I guess that’s all I have to say for now.
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