People Doodles #5

Went to a BBQ for the Fourth of July that had a whole bunch of people attending. Met some new people who probably won’t bother remembering my name, hah. 

When I was doodling, people would avoid looking at me. For some reason drawing at a public event is weird or something. People don’t like it. They pretend it’s not happening and ignore you if you do that, but they’ll glance at you sideways with that look that says “someone is being weird”. But some people ignored what I was doing while still chatting with me. By contrast if I were doodling ALONE in the park (not part of a group) or at a coffee shop or somewhere, people will approach me and ask me about my drawings and drawing aspirations. Or just smile pleasantly with silent approval. It’s a strange dynamic going on here. 

It’s also funny that people think other people don’t see when they give them the “that’s a weirdo” look and act nonchalant like they didn’t even notice you’re a weirdo. Like, just because I’m weird doesn’t mean I am blind to facial expressions hahah. But I guess they just can’t help it. 

Lifey Bit #7: Fuck you, I Love you

<Previous Lifey Bit>

I was sitting in my apartment, playing Skyrim, when I was shocked by a woman screaming from outside.

It is not particularly strange to hear the insane screeching of a madwoman in the great and weird city of Portland. I went to the balcony, to investigate, make sure it was nothing serious. I heard her scream, “let me out!” repeatedly; I was worried. The sky was still a dark blue with the near-gone sunlight of the late afternoon. There were hardly any cars on the street, just a bus stopped at the crosswalk. The screeching was clear and loud, as if it was right in front of me, but I saw no one screaming. Only a couple of my neighbors standing on the sidewalk all staring off in the same direction, wondering if it was serious or just some random craziness (99% of the time it’s the latter); one guy had his phone ready in his hand.

Then I saw the woman appear from behind the bus and quickly make her way across the street. She seemed young. She was white and had long black hair and wore a pink sweater. She shrieked, bloodcurdlingly loud, like a banshee, projected across the parking lot and street as clear as day. But she wasn’t running, nor were there any other people near her, or cars, no apparent dangers. The first assumption is drugs, but who knows. In between incoherence, a shrieked “fuck you!” and “I need you!” and “I love you!” pierced the air. It was haunting…creepy, it didn’t quite echo but felt as if the sound came from everywhere. It was also curious. How could someone scream ‘fuck you’ and ‘I love you’ in one motion? Thinking of the possibility she wasn’t on drugs, made it sad…but also even more creepy. I like to imagine the circumstances behind anyone stringing these words together in terrifying shrieks in near-public. If I were closer, would I have been able to see that she was crying?

The neighbors dispersed once they began hearing the ‘fuck you, I love yous’. Curse words immediately quell the sense of emergency of a scream in the city. But I was a bit entranced. It’s not often one gets to freely hear a woman’s shrieks echoing ominously throughout the silent night world, like an angered wraith in a cemetery…not without being able to just listen to it anyway (rather than making for the 911 buttons and bolting out the door to the rescue).

The enchantment was broken when a man yelled “Hey! Shut the fuck up!”

People Doodles #4

Doodled some people while waiting for a friend at the mall. Sat near the carousel so I could draw some children (and because its a PokeStop). I need to draw more children; they are difficult. Their body proportions are all off! Those heads! So big! And their parents dress them in such cute little outfits! Except I ended up drawing only a couple. Feels extra creepy drawing children when their parents catch me…

I couldn’t listen to my music, so I could hear some of the conversations between the kids and their parents. The way adults condescend children so brutally kind of upsets me. Adults talk to children as if they are pets: in a baby voice, or treating every word/action they say with “awws” without actually listening or watching, or issuing commands (“come here, boy!” “Stop doing that!”) without explaining things and getting mad when the children make loud noises, even just flat out ignoring them, staring at their phones. Children are people too! Just because they are naive and don’t know much about the world doesn’t mean they are stupid; not a sheep on a rope, not a kitten with a yarn ball. Why not be a decent person to the thing you’re supposed to be nurturing and educating? Okay, rant done.


<Previous People Doodles>

Ice Giants

Heart
at the center
of blackness
burns yellow death
pressured
by freezing cold.
A bulb, flickering
faint
under thousands of tiny eyes
hopeful, far away
lights in the darkness.
An infinite crushing
coldness.

Heart
drags
shadowed corpses
splintered ice giants
at the far edges
of a bleak eclipse.
They hang
there forever
in deafening silence
life gone
far beneath the surface.

Heart
lets fall a crescent
light. warmth
over a glacial wasteland
it makes cracks
heat pours in.
Tremors, as cold
is shaken off
and new life
melting from
a burning core
erupts free
to take a breath.

Heart
burns yellow life
emerging
from cracks
after a deep sleep
to feel the air.
Dust
rubs free. Warmth
radiates
and grows
a new world
to be made
into a home.

 

Lifey Bit #6: Flower Picking

->Click for Previous Lifey Bits<-

I’ve decided to just do one Lifey Bit at a time now, that way I can share more, and more often, and not worry over which ones to share so much.


 

I took the bike path to the train station, away from the psychotic drivers coming off the freeway and in the Town Center parking lot. It’s the long way to the station, but it is also the “scenic route” for pedestrians, as “scenic” as an urban setting can be.

The sun was shining, making the cement path bright, except for the one small tunnel the overpass creates, which was dark like a cave. On the right, the path is lined with crabgrass, pink and white wildflowers, and what I think is wild indigo. The sun glows off the yellow brush. The world is a white-yellow wash of ink with dabs of purple. Every time I pass, I wonder why pretty purple flowers would grow in such a litter and cement riddled wasteland, but I really just don’t know anything about flowers.

Once I went through the tunnel and emerged on the other side, I saw a young man. A little bit younger than me, perhaps. Tall and skinny, wearing a heavy tan coat despite the sunny day, and a backwards ballcap. He had just stopped and was looking around to see if there were any other people on the path, just missing me emerge. Seeing no one else, he went into the brush, bent down, and began digging at the flowers there. He picked the pink and white wildflowers, no care for the wild indigo.

I had stumbled upon a deer in a glen! Its head down in the grass, about to snap alert in fear at the sound of my movement! I wanted to watch, take careful steps toward him, take a picture. I was mesmerized.

When he noticed me walking toward him, he didn’t snap alert. He barely glanced my way but his hands lurched a little. He seemed to sag. His fingers took on a slow, clumsy movement, just touching the flowers absently. He was embarrassed, but stopping would prove it. The last person a young man wants to catch him in the act would be a young woman. I wanted to smile at him as I walked by, somehow show him I was endeared, but he didn’t look at my face. Saying anything would have made it worse. I just continued on to the train station.

What is he doing with those flowers now…?

-> Next Lifey Bit

Good Days, Bad Now

I’m going through my awful teenaged poetry and found something that resonated, because it’s more applicable than it ever was before. Had to edit it just a little bit in order to not feel embarrassed about myself. Most adults don’t think about these things, do they? Does that mean I’m not grown up yet? In order to be an adult do you have to be confident and happy?

In the good days, stress wasn’t a word.
Didn’t care how I looked or acted,
there were no consequences.
Getting high was on swings
Boys broke toys instead of hearts
Girls let their hair get messy
Makeup was for dolls and art
Mistakes were never my own fault
Fights didn’t hurt
What was drama?
Didn’t think so much about feelings
Little things were amazing,
A bug on a leaf, animal shaped erasers,
Negative things didn’t stick so hard
Dad was a hero and genius,
Mom was an umbrella from the rain

I wish
I could remember how to let things go.
Everything is an attack,
words are stronger
hurt worse than a scraped knee.
Crying gets you looks instead of comfort.
Eyes have deeper thoughts
I hate I want to know.
A fear of other humans,
instead of spiders and the dark
Dad makes faces I never noticed before
Mom is a monster
I worry
was it always like this?
The ignorance really was bliss
and now we can’t ever go back to that.

Lifey Bits #5

Previous bits this a way

The woman sitting directly behind me on the train is speaking fast on the phone in another language. Very loudly, right into my ear, making it easy for me to eavesdrop and analyze her syllables and see if I can understand what she’s talking about. I think it might be French, but I am unsure. The language sounds like bubbles blipping out from her mouth, popping into the air. She laughs occasionally, obviously a laugh, but a laugh in her language.

Eventually she pauses and says “Allo?…Allo?” And she stops. A few minutes later the tinkle of a cellphone chimes and she says “Allo?” again. She laughs and continues her fast bubbly language. I hear her say the name ‘David’ but she says it like ‘Da-veed’.

I wish I could speak every language.

Sitting on the lower part of the train, where the seats sit in a line with their backs against the windows, I get to watch as a team of three police officers suddenly board the MAX. With my headphones in, the swiveled glancing of my train-mates leads my eyes to them. The one apparently leading the group has the word SHERIFF stitched largely on his back in gold letters. Why is the sheriff checking out the train and not Trimet security?

He pauses as he first enters the train and looks around slowly at everyone, looking at each person’s face closely. He has a super douchy grin on his face. The type of smug, proud-and-pleased-with-himself smile of the always-looking-down-on. He is enjoying all of the eyes looking back at him, or making an obvious attempt to not look at him. The world stirs at his presence, and he is aware of it. He basks in it like a solar panel; he feeds on the curious and vehement vibes radiating from the people before him. I think he is trying to look kind with his smile, that’s why he shows it so brightly, but he just looks like a proud jock in high school who beat up the nerd and got away with it.

He walks his way through the center of the train, still looking at peoples faces as he goes. Looking back and forth from wall to wall. Reminds me of scenes in old Westerns where the sheriff walks into a saloon and eyeballs everyone. He’s chewing gum obnoxiously. That seems a little unprofessional to me. I have a thought; maybe this is just a trio of thugs who stole those uniforms? When he gets to me and looks at my face, he sees my stare and crinkles a larger smile at me, then moves on. The other two following him have stern looks on their faces but are otherwise just doing their job, just looking. When they pass through the entire train, they leave, and take with them the heavy tension they created.

I try not to be a cop hater, but this guy seemed like a real douchebag.

Went to the fancy oil and vinegar store in the mall with Onyx. Can’t remember its name, sells cooking oil, and seasoning, and fancy-pants stuff to dip bread in. Holy shit, Onyx though.
Onyx: Also Aspergers. Way worse than I am, but manages to live life relatively normally. Has a job and everything! He gives shitty advice about it, but it’s funny. Doesn’t have any sense of himself and people around him except the people he cares about. Literally gives no shits. Laughs loudly. Curses loudly, and around children and old people. Talks about Disney Princesses unabashedly. Shared how he “banged” Sera, his Dragon Age romance, to an audience of quiet readers in Barnes & Noble. Asked advice about a My Little Pony PNP, as if I would know anything about that. It’s hilarious. I love it!
Embarrassing, being with Onyx, but it’s liberating. All I can do is giggle and follow meekly, smile apologetically at people who look at us weird. Tempted to shush him, but I don’t want to interrupt his great time. Shushing is a dick move. Don’t shush who people are meant to be! Don’t want to end this amazing gift of his. It helps me feel better about myself. I care too much about what people think. If he can be a total weirdo and not bat an eye, I should be able to too.
We pass vinegar store, he just walks straight in, without even telling me he’s going in there. Tells me to try the chocolate vinegar. The store is tiny, we are two of five “costumers”. The employees ask “you guys need any help?” Onyx just says, “Nah!” and goes on getting samples. I feel so self-conscious!! Who can resist dipping soft croutons in flavored oil?! Free samples, but how much can you get before taking advantage?! Obligated to buy something now, but I’m broke! The employee chick continues to inquiry us on what we are looking for…Onyx just says “Just showing her the chocolate because its AWESOME.”
Geeeeez, why couldn’t I have been born with his type of brain!

I went to GameStop strictly for the Lycanroc code. I asked the dude behind the counter, “can I have the Pokemon?” I like to say it like a silly little girl for some reason, using my feminine charm, or something. I do know which Pokemon I am getting, but being cute over Pokemon is cute.
He says, “Psh, no.” And looks me dead in the eye, but with a smirk.
Know its a joke, but layer of flirting? I panic! Brain ceases to function! I just stutter like an idiot, “Wha—whaa—why?”
He laughs and says just kidding, but gives a sidelong look as hes getting the little code card.
Social moment ruined. It keeps replaying in my head.
It’s only a block away…maybe if I show up more…
they say ditziness is cute anyway…

Next bit