The Real McCoy

Date: 5/17/2017

By Fitful

I was living in a warehouse. Or at least I was there a lot. This warehouse was so big and dark that the area I lived in, took up residence in, set up kitchen and bedroom in, was barely a single percentage of it. In fact I never actually saw the end of it, it was to vast: dark and deep. I was very upset because a special day for me was imminent and the people around me weren't cooperating. I was seeing three people, romantically, all at once and they didn't seem that interested in being with me or celebrating that special day. It was driving me crazy. I was baking the whole time, baking sweet things for this special day. They were the only thing in the refrigerator, I lined them up on the top shelf of the empty refrigerator. After I finished one sweet thing I switched to another. Meanwhile I was having problems with the people I was seeing. The only one who really liked me was a dude. I didn't like him very much, but I was so starved for attention, the other two's lack of interest in the relationship aggrieved me, that I allowed him to stay with me and I allowed the fawning. It was less fawning and more devotion but I didn't want to see that. He painted this one painting of me as Buddha in pink. The rest of the painting was white. The image of me as this love goddess was very implied, and it was beautiful, caught between two rolling white separations on the canvas, like a wave on the top and bottom. He painted it forwards then went home and painted it backwards. His home was in the direction of my bedroom in the warehouse. I watched him paint the brush strokes were so uniform and precise, he was very perfect in what he did. There was a new girl, a redhead, and she was brand new to the world. I was trying to steer her to see me and the world the way I wanted her too. I directed her thoughts and beliefs and kept the line very narrow. But quickly she deviated and focused on him, he was much more interesting to her. And she was less interested in me afterwords. My ex Miranda was there, as a current relationship, she kept showing off her expensive clothes, jeans, pair of tennis shoes, a few white tees. It was maddening because they just looked like every other ordinary clothes of the same name, only the price tag was different. The jeans cost $150 and she kept bragging about how someone had bought them for her. And her shoes were even more expensive. What was worse was she was homeless. I had arranged for her to live somewhere and she fucked it up. Now she wasn't even caring she was homeless she just wanted to focus on what people had bought her. She just smiled this secret smile and did nothing to explain herself, or excuse herself, or pretend she was actually a good person. I was getting pissed I yelled at her and suddenly in an epiphany I realized she wasn't a good person. She went to the toilet that but I still yelled at her while she was on it. I realized she wasn't ever going to be who I wanted her to be. She was always going to be unconscious to her subconscious motivations and walk around trying mooching off people and being materialistic. I believe I phrased it as "You're always going to walk around ignoring your childhood shit. Manipulating everyone and ignoring you were abused." The word abused was cut off as my own anger woke me up.