Friday, December 09, 2005

Schizopop

Well, here I am. Filthy, tired, and frazzled. Sitting in the library at the Community College on Park and "C" Street starring at this screen. What a fucking night. But let me back up a few days, what happened? Where did I leave off? Ah, yes...at the house of Chuey's brother, Noel. Nice guy. Crappy house.
The next day, after a cold night of fitful sleep and after receiving a ticket on the red trolley by the police for not paying for the ride, Tony and I arrived early and still did not receive a fucking bed. Tony and I talked with some of the estranged locals. There was this ugly little Mexican in a dirty black trench coat, shiny over the dirt. He would pull moldy pastry from hidden pockets and eat them with rotted teeth. The little Mexican explained to Tony that he should go and apply for social security benefits. Tony could claim that he is disabled and the state would award him eight hundred dollars a month.
Tony looked at him, said with mixed pride and hate, “What the hell are you talking about, man?! I’m not fucking handicapped!”
Tony turned and walked away; steaming mad.
Lying on the sidewalk, wrapped in the arms of a fat Puerto Rican with a perm, I was surprised to see The Head. This freak Dan Cokenour would torment at the mission in El Paso several years back. I looked down at these two and asked why they where lying in the dirt. They looked like two spandex clad pigs basking in the sun. They were waiting for a bus ticket to be wired from New York City. The both of them were to live with the Puerto Rican’s mother. I wished them luck.
Tony and I struck up a conversation with this one young handsome black guy named James. He had run away from Virginia to start a new life in San Diego. He was having the same trouble as we were in getting a bed. He said that he had been sneaking into the train yards, the yards for the trolley system, and sleeping on the empty trolleys.
Since we did not have enough money to rent a room in Tijuana, or ride the train to Chuey’s brother’s house, the only alternative was to rough it for one night out on the Embarcadar marina. For I knew the following day my food card would be activated and after selling it I would have efficient funds to return to El Paso. Yeah, I thought, fuck it...I'll go back to El Paso, at least I still have an apartment to get to when I go back. I hope.
The night was filled with crazy madness. First it started off pretty calm. With the few bills Tony had made washing cars, James, Tony, and I dined on food bought at the local dollar store. Famished, it was the best crackers, tuna fish, potato chips and Dr. Pepper I have ever had! It was Tony’s birthday so he wanted to go to the pier nearby and fish. Using a tin can, some discarded wire and hook, Tony fished with borrowed bait from neighboring fishermen. He even caught a few small fish. He had never seen the sea before, so he was happy as a little kid.
I, myself was drowning in doubt and despair. As I sat on a bench watching the navy ships enter and exit the harbor I reflected on the last few years of my life. What had I done? And how come I ended up here, in full circle with nothing to show for it. I had lost everything. I had nowhere to go. I wanted to stay in San Diego, but I couldn't because I was wanted for past crimes. Was I doomed to a life of running and fear and poverty? I looked out at the pier as my friend continued fishing, not a care in the world. What a simple animal. How could one live a life without goals or accomplishments? Here I was suffering, on the verge of a mental breakdown and the only thing Tony was worried about was if his line was going to entangle in others fishing lines.
The night fell and it was beginning to get cold. Really cold. Tony was talking to some speed freak on the pier as I tried to sleep on the bench. Is that what we came out here for? To get addicted to that evil stuff. I knew from first hand what that crap could do to your life and I vowed I wouldn’t go down like that again. When I saw Tony and that speed freak walk off into the parking lot I just snapped. I mean, I don't know if it was the stress of what was going on or what but I really lost it and really freaked. A darkness opened and a black wind issued and The Ugly Spirit came forth at that moment I saw Tony for what he really was a fucking sponge. Using me for everything I had. And now that I had nothing he couldn’t have cared less about me. All this time I showed him compassion and decent friendship and all I got back was “Go fuck yourself after you give me your money.” I was through with this asshole. I verbally attacked him when he got back and made quite a scene. I didn’t care. I was in this state all because of him. He was a scoundrel…a low life fourth rate hustler. He cared for no one but himself. I tolerated enough. The police patrol arrived to clear the park around three and I was completely through. After the cops got involved, they asked us to leave the park. I stomped off by myself. I stayed in an alcove in an alleyway to await dawn. Even there I couldn’t be alone. Two black junkies sat by me smoking crack and joking with each other. I was filled with anger and self-loathing. I promised myself I would never sink to staying on the streets, but here I was. Among crack addicts!
As dawn came, I made my way over to St. Vincent de Paul’s. I noticed Tony and James waiting in line. I ignored them, stood there seething, until James approached me and struck up a conversation. He wanted to know why I was so upset. I spilled my emotions out about Tony, good and bad. I was almost in tears. Tony put in his two cents, about how he can't really go on being a faggot-blah-blah-blah and it was so pathetically moronic I exploded again and smashed the camera I had of all the photos I had took of this trip.
Once inside, I talked to the guy in charge of travelers’ aid and arranged for a ticket at half price to El Paso. However, I needed a residence so the only person to vouch for me was Juana Ortega back at the Rescue Mission. And, after listening to my story she wouldn’t do that unless I brought Tony home, too.
Fine, I said. I purchased the ticket and stormed off to the City College where I am now awaiting the Greyhound Bus, leaving Tony back at the Traveler's Aid Office. The bus leaves tonight and man that slanty-eyed midget bastard better not fuck with me on the way home. Oh, how do I hate him!

3 comments:

jjd said...

he really can't go on being a faggot??? WTF!

Raw deal man.

ML said...

man what happened!! i cant believe this, why go back to dirt juarez? wanted for past crimes? des... angel, i want to hold you angel, pray noel and kiss the bumps away, where are you now? where do you want to go? why? an appartment? you have so much in you, such a beautiful and tattered soul, dont loathe yourself please, you have your memmories

Hermes said...

Damn, a whole post and no mention of your Willy Wonka sunglasses. You must really be down and out my friend. So I went ahead and mentioned them at my place... in your honor.

Things will work out in the end. Hang in there Guero.