this is the perfect place to get jumped

Month: July, 2015

the chinese

a hole in the roof was covered by a sheet of dirty plastic, and i pushed my head through it to get a glimpse of the roof deck.

i made eye contact with meredith, who sat on a bench at the far end of the roof. a man was standing in front of the bench, talking to her. when she saw me she began laughing, and i immediately pulled my head back through the hole before the man had a chance to turn around.

descending down a ladder that lead to my childhood bedroom, i sensed meredith scampering close behind. dave was wearing his wig (my wig) and had his crude pencil drawings (my drawings) laid out in a sequence on his bed (my bed). i thought, ‘i didn’t know dave could paint. maybe meredith wants to see these paintings.’ his sketches reminded me of ‘the chinese.’

i turned off all of the lights in my house and shut all of the doors and left dave in my childhood bedroom and went to work.

davone and quentin joyously greeted me from their work pagoda when i arrived for the night shift. (mark was mysteriously absent.) as they prepared to leave for the day they informed me that burr sold the space to ‘the chinese’ at night.

with the sun on the horizon the pagoda’s large red gate opened and a procession of shackled chinese prisoners in alternating gray and orange uniforms filed in. tiny white elephants froclicked with felinity. doves floated through the soft air. sullen child generals observed the prisoners from atop stilts, their beige uniforms adorned in badges which were obscured by the numerous service medals which hung around their necks. accompanying the children were their stilted brides, dressed in ostentatious white gowns that reached the very bottom of their stilts. without tripping they lovingly wrapped their arms around their tiny generals as they walked with them.

davone and quentin were gone for the day. in their place stood a man i mistook for davone in a ‘chinese costume.’ he had a shaved head with bleached blonde hair, caramel skin, and black eyes. i greeted him with a smile and he poked me hard in the stomach to signal a duel.

i took a step back in trepidation as a spear flew in viddy’s direction from behind me. viddy leapt out of the way and the spear snapped in half when it met the floor. i sought refuge on a velvet sofa next to a lounging princess who gleefully watched the duel. viddy was naked when a hurled mallet struck him in the stomach.

her wedding

i was very surprised to see my ex-girlfriend living in my roommate’s room this morning on my way back from the bathroom. she was sitting up in her large white bed on her laptop, surrounded by pillows and tucked beneath a fluffy white duvet. the silhouette of an ominous figure sat on the bed against the wall, and as i peered through the slit i concluded that this was her boyfriend.

my apartment had grown in size on the way back to my bedroom; there was now a large banquet hall and a downstairs patio with a full backyard overlooking a smooth, grey body of water.

over the course of the day i witnessed my ex-girlfriend shouting various demands at cowering strangers. my roommate’s room was being draped in shimmering purple cloth and decorated with rose hydrangeas wrapped in white holiday lights.

flat screen tvs were stacked on top of silver hard drives, waiting to be mounted on the wall in the second extra room, probably to run a slideshow. one of the first guests to arrive was a bottom heavy woman with short blonde hair. without explicit instruction she anxiously began rearranging this equipment to busy herself, which sparked static. i gently chided her and told her to be patient. my ex-girlfriend was very stressed.

hundreds of people began showing up to watch my ex-girlfriend’s supposed performance piece. even a guy i worked with for one day last week was invited. he was sopping wet, and had a broken ankle and spoke about not giving a fuck and “going to spain.” i was drinking heavily and stayed away from the guests.

my ex-girlfriend spoke passionately about her dead sister and everyone teared up. people were crowding me in my own room, so i decided to help myself to the buffet. i couldn’t see inside my roommate’s room because it was so crowded; i could only hear cheers and clapping for my ex-girlfriend. i thought i heard my name whispered among the crowd.

snow fell from a grey sky. this imposed performance made me feel dejected in my own home, so in an attempt to make a scene i loudly pronounced that i was “ditching this bullshit and going to the beach” before jumping from the second story window into the backyard. my ankle was held by a shirtless enforcer who prevented the fatal plummet that would have woken me up. he was wearing a bow tie.

he chased me through a thick wedge of freestanding lard after i swung at him. my name was definitely uttered and my character assassinated by this forest of formally attired guests. i arrived at my roommate’s closed door and banged on it, demanding to be let inside so i could evict them for humiliating me with their success.

special guests i didn’t recognize were lingering after her performance when i barged into this VIP room. my ex-girlfriend was very displeased to see me and ordered me to leave. she was wearing a purple bob wig. i tried a joke by saying she looked like lady gaga but she returned a glare.

i stood outside of my roommate’s bedroom as guests were leaving. i struck up conversation with her boyfriend, who didn’t know who i was. he wore a feather in his short brown hair, a leather vest without a shirt, and a dream catcher earring. he was very disinterested in our conversation and kept impolitely looking around to see if there was someone else he could talk with. when he abruptly started to walk away i reached out to shake his hand, which he accepted for a moment as his back was turned to me. his handshake was feeble and clammy.

teach your children about the raisin man

when the raisin man secretly follows me home at night he waits for me to fall asleep before removing the bulb from the lamp on my nightstand, unplugging my alarm clock, and pouring my glass of water onto my bed.

once i am wet i wake up to the hideous outline of his bulbous figure gyrating his hips in a disgusting twirl, clutching my baby monitor and whispering threats to my infant daughter fast asleep in the next room.¬†on principle i refuse to be intimidated by these scare tactics, but i am in fear for my family’s safety for speaking out, which is an imperative for the future generations.

although it seems hard to believe now, the terrifying rise of the raisin man can be traced back to beyonce, who deserves the onus of blame for legitimizing his political conduct.

on stage, standing beside the world’s most talented person during pop music’s biggest night was a cadaverous specter, eerily shy, with blistered lips and loose, creamy skin. upon accepting the award for greatest living artist beyonce introduced the raisin man as her adopted son, and perplexed fans nationwide. beyonce already had a pristine public image, so this benevolence, even if it was a PR stunt, was suspicious to even the most ardent pop culture followers.

the mass media carnival never investigated the foggy origins of beyonce’s relationship with the raisin man. over the following months image galleries on gossip blogs showed the raisin man relaxing poolside, smoking cigars with beyonce’s feeble and senile husband as she rubbed cream on his dessicated back. seeing beyonce perform live now meant withstanding the raisin man’s unfunny skits between her songs. over time the public softened their views of the raisin man, who eventually became a household name as an associate of the beyonce syndicate.

the raisin man established himself as a beyonce ambassador during these formative years, and without opposition became beyonce’s official replacement when he gave the eulogy at the funeral for her career. his tearful address, lightly peppered with his now signature polemic gymnastics, disclosed his oratory skills. that crowd erupted in a tearful standing ovation as beyonce historically embraced the raisin man. on the same day the mass media ran this hug as a cover story they failed to report the death of thousands due to a famine originating in the houston outskirts.

before beyonce’s funeral the raisin man’s origin was a topic for dissidents only. was he a shriveled bean come alive after feeding off humanity’s hatred over thousands of years in a jungle cave? or was he a mummified corpse reanimated when an inquisitive archaeologist on the hunt for hell crystals read aloud some alien hieroglyphs? such fastidious lore distracted from the real issue: the raisin man as celebrity supported demagogue with an enigmatic agenda and growing sphere of influence among a firm fan base.

whether it was to fill the void that beyonce left, or because they actually believed in the message of the raisin man, aging beyonce fans are now ideologues and raisin man apologists that have been swayed to buy and vote accordingly. they buy his protein shake, watch his netflix original series “raisin hell” and deny all evidence of his engineered wildfires. beyonce sold her brand to the raisin man, which made enslavement to his doctrine fashionable. in the same way that beyonce’s raw talent can never be disputed, neither can her nurtured destruction of mankind at the claws of the raisin man be forgiven.

as an outspoken critic of the raisin man i am constantly bullied by beyonce fans/raisin man supporters. they claim that i hate the raisin man because of his looks, and that i don’t have the right to criticize the raisin man because i was never a beyonce fan! but beyonce was a performer, she was not running for public office and she didn’t align herself with any socio-political movement. the raisin man is using her popularity to starve civilians! he has his wretched fingers in a medley of secret economic wars buying unions and altering working class wages. just because beyonce’s army of celebrities apologize on behalf of the raisin man during football’s biggest night doesn’t mean that his systemic plagues don’t devastate working class, rural american towns.

these pretty faces do not speak for us, they speak at us; they are paid to coddle the public. will smith will not find a human ear in his sock drawer and mila kunis doesn’t return home to find a photo of the raisin man’s shriveled penis after a day at the beach in her daughter’s empty crib. i have never felt sicker than when kylie jenner thanked the public for their successful facebook campaign to dismiss “offensive evidence” and exonerate the charges made against the raisin man at his war crimes tribunal.

the raisin man likes to say that i have a personality disorder, but this straw man is not an argument for his bully tactics and the repressive policies he supports. my only “disorder” is criticizing the raisin man. i try to support my family with the slender salary of a working man but the raisin man droughts are choking our productivity. my aunt is sick because of the raisin man. the raisin man took joe’s eyes; now he must listen to book on tape. i stand by my foolhardy values by refusing to accept this malfeasance despite imminent harm to my family.

parents, be proactive with your children and educate them with firm opposition as early as possible. don’t wait for their questions about the raisin man; we cannot rely on the schools to educate them properly. resistance begins with our youth. if we do not stand together to dispel the raisin man’s phony miracles we will soon see our children mobilized to fight a secret civil war.

D.F image dump

i attended cousin emilie’s wedding in mexico city earlier this month and these are some of my favorite photos of the trip.

when a pick pocket stole my phone on a crowded train i wept for the 72 photos that were never uploaded and the countless photos i never had the chance to take.

(i’m over it now, but condolences are still welcome.)

this week i am missing my traveling companions and looking forward to creating a lively retrospective, which will be edited from the 88 GB of video i recorded.

IMG_8541 IMG_8519 IMG_8527 IMG_8534 IMG_8484 IMG_8489 IMG_8490 IMG_8513 IMG_8502 IMG_8469 IMG_8458 IMG_8481 IMG_8508 IMG_8479 IMG_8427 IMG_8385 IMG_8442 IMG_8456 IMG_8434 IMG_8392 IMG_8394 IMG_8410 IMG_8342 IMG_8318 IMG_8299 IMG_8380 IMG_8363 IMG_8323 IMG_8339 IMG_8255 IMG_8272 IMG_8297 IMG_8258 IMG_8244 IMG_8204 IMG_8253 IMG_8240 IMG_8231 IMG_8291 IMG_8208 IMG_8221 IMG_7937 IMG_8001 IMG_8058 IMG_8023 IMG_7829 IMG_7903 IMG_7926 IMG_7847 IMG_7928 IMG_7958 IMG_7820 IMG_7816 IMG_7798 IMG_7795 IMG_7775 IMG_7752 IMG_7753 IMG_7755 IMG_7763 IMG_7769 IMG_7770 IMG_7749 IMG_7750 IMG_7747 IMG_7743 IMG_7727 IMG_7719 IMG_7698 IMG_7734 IMG_7731 IMG_7737