Friday, January 02, 2009

new years in the ghettoasis


Either I'm crazy again or living on the creek must make sounds (gunfire) much louder. And by much louder, I mean, "Are you *&#$*&^ kidding me?" On New Year's Eve, you would not believe the war zone sounds. Yeah, some (most) of that is fireworks, and yeah, only a few (one) were automatic weapons (the hell?!). Come on now.

Although it would be infinitely cooler, I'm not generally the cool-who-cares girl; I'm the one sleeping on the floor of my bedroom because the bullets have less entry points in there. I'm the girl that googles 'tazers,' 'how to tell gunfire from fireworks.'

And much, much worse; it's a devastating downward spiral, really. A harrowing tale at times. Some might say in a benign way; I'm more apt to call it a rocking back and forth, beat my head against a wall, wish I could go back in time and not know kind of a way. I've been down the google image search rabbit hole hell with teratomas, parasites...Not sure where the ideas come from. Karma? The devil himself?

My neighbors were not afraid of Satan at all, it seemed. I half expected them to be out talking about what I can only assume were the Sharks and the Jets outfitted with 21st century weaponry while all the police in the town were at a convention together. Nope. No one writing panicked comments on the message board, either. Even when we did get a knock on the door, it was not for war stories. Kyle across the street brought over black eyed pea soup that would bring tears to your eyes.

Ah, another day in our ghettoasis. I love it more all the time, but it is definitely different from Uptown. And Kansas.

I still love you, Oak Cliff; but I don't have to like you sometimes.