Your Insufferable Visitor

I get it.

You don’t want me here. It’s annoying when I remind you that I exist.

Or, you don’t care, really, that I’m parked where you can see me, but only if I acknowledge that this is yours, not mine.

And, I don’t disagree with you.

I just wish you would rotate or otherwise change up the material you use in your production. It may just be because I’m not comfortable with random, loud, repetitive interruptions, but, I’ve taken to wearing earplugs the moment I notice that you are within a mile.

That would explain why I didn’t respond to you calling my name loudly while circling my van a few moments, ago.

I am in the back, behind the black-out curtains, sitting quietly, reading and typing, but wearing earplugs.

I did eventually hear you as your voice moved up a decibel in volumhyenase, but, I was so rattled by your circling me like a pack of hyenas that I instinctively, I believe, froze in place, not unlike any pack of hyena-fearing gazelle would do.

If it’s any consolation, for the peckadillionth time you’ve made it clear in the past 5 plus years: yes, this is your territory. The investment you’ve made marking it has been noteworthy, so, there is little chance I’d miss that, although, I think you may have missed a tree.

No, I won’t ever forget that this space isn’t mine. You are generous with the reminders.

Yes, I know you have more than I do and that it feels good to think one’s self powerful and in control. I won’t try to take that good feeling away. I promise.

I really just want to sit here, quietly, and read or sleep or write or just feel like I’m safe for a minute before opening my eyes and being reminded of the mountains I’ve got to climb.

Climb or surrender to at dare-feet in my own.

Never mind. It was an inside joke.

That’s one of the benefits I enjoy as a result of my current circumstantial isolation from my children and peers: the voices in my head now include something of a comedian.

If nothing else, the entertainment I have when alone with my thoughts could never be characterized as boring.
What’s wrong? Are you ok? You suddenly had a look on your face…
Strange? I suppose it’s possible that you might see it that way.

Would it shock you to know just how much more strange I find many of things that you say and do?

No, no, it is a rhetorical question.

Of course, I am all to aware how shocked you would be and I promise to not actually ever say such a thing aloud like that which you just said to me about 53 seconds, ago.

It’s not the same, I know.

I mean, this is your territory, after all and you can puff yourself up and be as boorish and inappropriately obnoxious as your boundary-blind behind wants to be.

Knock yourself out.

Really. Just knock yourself out, completely.

Speak your mind

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