Yesterday things went back to overwhelming chaos. I found Abuelita lying on the floor by her bed, thankfully I got there earlier rather than later afternoon, but it’s hard to say how long she’d been there. She herself has a muddled sense of time. Eric was nearby so I was able to call him over to help me get her up into bed with a minimal amount of pain, me taking the shoulders, he wrapping his straight arm under her knees and bracing her under the crooked arm.
“He’s figured out ways to play drums and move gear, it wasn’t that hard for the two of us.” I explained to my Dad when he made it down from El Barrio finally. He’d had to contend with a train delay, got out two stops early, and tried to cab it across town instead, only to be again slowed by a street fair blocking traffic on one of the avenues. He’d been skeptical that we could get Abue into bed, but happy to find that we’d done it. He’s over there now, I’m going in the afternoon. It’s not just enough to alternate afternoons and evenings anymore.
My paranoia is going in all directions too. I have reason to believe someone who formerly cyberstalked and harassed me is trying to ingratiate him/herself into certain circles Eric & I move and work in. I’m angry that a friend of mine has an online friend who supports George Zimmerman & is spreading false “facts” about the Marissa Alexander case. My friend, who we hang with in the real world, is Haitian and highly intelligent, an avid reader…why would he entertain such a knuckle-dragger, even simply on Facebook? I know the internet is full of trolls and assholes, I know some people view social networking as an opportunity to experience different perspectives whereas I view it as leisure time. I no more want someone spouting hate on my page than I’d want them doing it in my home. I know not everyone feels that way. But on top of everything else going on I just totally did not need to stumble on some missing link praise a daddy’s-the-magistrate-so-I-can-get-away-with-anything child murderer (a 17 year old is still a minor) while slagging a woman who was GENUINELY defending herself with a warning shot.
My brain finally dissolved the world so everything was filtered through that screen of pink and yellow static that envelopes everything from time to time. I don’t really remember much after that.
Yeah, so I took a picture of this in that Mark Flood show that Rubber (O) Cement was part of an installation of when he was here. I thought it was funny. Bad mental health blogger. Bad.