The Actions of Others

Date: 6/21/2019

I was online, on the website where I wrote books. People didn't seem to a credit me the books I wrote. ~ There was this creature, like someone crushed a person into a flat, fat blob like a duck. It was very odd looking and people considered it no more than an animal. I found out this is what you became when you died. You went on to this childlike state. It wasn't an animal, but it was barely able to think like a human, it could peak and reason, but just barely. ~ Something I love someone i knew turned into thjs creature and it was very very upset because it wanted to be with this mate who hadn't crossed over and become like it yet. It stood on a high high tower in the middle of the city making wailing noises, psychic ones. People wanted it gone Sent to a sanctuary or a zoo or killed. I wanted to save it. ~ My ex offered to help. She came and said she'd help build a tower to the crying thing and let its mate come to it. We planned it. We went out on a date to do more planning. The date was at a tiny restaurant in a quaint city quarter, we sat at a restaurant with very heavy metal chairs and matching forks and spooks and untentils. I felt uncomfortable because a single table setting, a single utentil, was worth $125. She then decided to steal two and we left, she pulled me out by my hand. I think she stole forks? I wondered if we were going to eat something but it turned out we ran around until she gave an interview online about out wonderful 20 hour date and how amazing it was. ~ She never helped those creatures. Or me. I broke up with her. Again. It seems like the 15th time. She accepted it very early and went of and I was alone. I wandered the city feeling bereft. I wanted her to come back, but I didn't have her phone number. I didn't have a working phone. She had left on the train to NYC and I didn't want to spend money to follow her. I wanted her to come to me. ~ I felt very bad and reached into my bag for the phone. Somehow it came I was carrying around all my worldly possessions. I had so many white PSPs and they were like phones but I couldn't get any of them to turn on. All my computers and cell phones and all my electronics were dead. I'd used them up. I cried and fell asleep in the bag. It was a bucket now, like a giant sand castle bucket, or a trashcan. It slid down the beach and kept sliding with me in it and crying. I felt homeless. I felt so bereft. ~ It stopped and some homeless beach bums were there when I climbed out. I pretended the bucket was kind and all the stuff was mine. I didn't want them to take it. The stuff was worthless but without it I'd have nothing, not even clothes. I'd have to star all over with whatever anyone could give me at a homeless shelter. The beach bums wanted the bucket, then the stuff inside. I took the bucket and walked away. One began to follow me but the other smacked his amr and told him I had said no. I saw a lot of slippers, they had a nice collection of brand new ones. I considered stealing on and turning it black to match my style, a sexy witty comment planned, but I didn't like the idea of stealing. ~ I went to work. It was a new job. They were just hiring. In fact I was hiring. The newest people kept popping up. Some black woman, I think she'd been there a bit longer, kept asking me my opinion and finally I decided to give it and help learn the hiring process. I stopped be so shy. She asked how I though I could help the new employees be safe? I told her they could wash their hands. Everytime they leg and went home or came to work or even when at their desk. She was at the table beside me and had spilled some water. It looked like drool. She got offended and went to wash her hands then came with a napkin to clean the table, I'd already cleaned it. I went on to say its because she had kids and all that they had been around was brought by her to work and all we were around would go back to them. She got madder and madder, somehow assuming I was calling her a bad mother. I decided to leave for the day, she was too angry. I did clarify her assumptions were incorrect. I did think she wasa good mother, but I wanted everyone to be safe. I think I spun her wig because I was very angry at her for not getting it. She was raging mad at this point but held herself backs and said something about my eyes, reluctantly fond of them or me even as she was mad like a hornet.