Deceived, discarded, tribeless, and virtually "homeless". Fatally jaded, now agnostic. This blog is for self-therapy. My time on Earth is up, but I'll be back (maybe). For now, find me on Twitter.
Sometimes I really want to write about what’s going on in my head, but the internal voices and noises are too overwhelming. Too triggering. Too distracting. Voices of anger, resentment, hopelessness. What can I do when these other voices and memories pile up in my head, occluding my mental vision, preventing me from putting pen to paper (or “keyboard to document”)?
Not sure if there are any drugs or alternative psychiatric treatments that can address this. To help quiet the voices, help me focus on JUST one memory… but more importantly, to make me less emotionally sensitive, overall. Maybe lower my natural Empathy levels. Make me stop feeling or caring so much (or at all) about being reconnected with the rest of the Human race in any meaningful form.
What did people do before medical science and mood-altering therapies? Oh, right… they didn’t have TIME to be depressed… what with all the wars and daily trials and tribulations of survival. Good times, good times…
Reconnecting seems to be a dead-end for me anyway. Even without the COVID19 pandemic lockdown, I was largely “disconnected”, and not due to lack of trying to connect. However, statistically speaking not everyone was meant to “make it” in this life. And by “make it” I mean “be a acknowledged and mutually beneficial part of a community, the Homo Sapiens way”.
No matter what we do or say, no matter how well we try to live our lives, no matter how decent we live, no matter how much positive messages we try to spread, statistically, some of us are simply destined to live unremarkable lives, mostly as lonely hermits, eventually dying alone, and subsequently forgotten within days. Evidently I’m one of those individuals… Just like countless other random, unremarkable individuals throughout human history.
if I had my way, this video would be played at every school classroom across the world, at least once a semester.
Not everyone can be “normal” or “fit in”, that’s just a statistical fact. Numbers don’t care about our feelings, and the universe never promised Fairness. Obviously.
I don’t have to like the facts, but it is better to acknowledge and deal with the Harsh Reality of Mismatched Expectations and being Misled to Failures, than to wallow in the False Hopes and Dreams of an alternate timeline.
I’d just like some “substances” or procedures to help me get there, and STAY there with a smile on my face.
So my 18-year old American-black tenant finally showed her true colors… and boy were they quite ugly 😧
I had been quite nice to this person, whom I’ll refer to as “The Kid” for purposes of this article. We even watched cartoons together a few times. One night, after she pleaded with me heavily, against my better judgement I loaned her my bike, which she – surprise surprise – ended up damaging. I didn’t pursue the issue, because I figured I deserved it, because I didn’t listen to my inner voice which was practically shouting “do not loan anything valuable to this person”.
That was totally my bad.
By mid-April, long after rent was due, The Kid still owed $100, which included a $25 late fee. She had changed jobs, and was struggling a bit to make ends meet. When I inquired about the remainder of rent, she indicated that she’ll pay the rest when she gets paid at the end of April. I understood these things, and was willing to work with her. I was willing, even though she never formally requested an extension, requested a change to the contract, nor did she show appreciation for my patience and flexibility, like other people would. Not once did she offer to do anything extra around the house, to make up for rent being late. In fact, her attitude was that of Typical American-black Woman attitude, very entitled, and RUDE, basically saying she’d given me all she had, and I should stop asking.
She was talking and behaving as if I wasn’t the house owner. As if she hadn’t signed a contract.
But that wasn’t the main issue, after all, $100 won’t make or break my finances for a month. On multiple occasions, The Kid showed a blatant disregard for the rules of the household, violating one or more parts of the Tenant Rules and Responsibilities as outlined in the Rental Agreement as well as verbal discussions. For example, she didn’t empty and bag the room’s trash can, raising the risk of vermin. She would also sometimes leave her dirty dishes in the sink, as if I was her maid or some shit. She also barely did her share of household chores – she cleaned the shared bath tub ONCE, and only by my prompting. She never vacuumed, mopped, or cleaned anything else. Not even – I found out later- her own room 😐
Every time I reminded her of these responsibilities, I did so calmly, with patience and kindness, and sometimes even a touch of humor.
Reminder: Rent, Late Fees, Tenant Responsibilities… these were all outlined in the Rental Agreement… which she said – to my face – that she read, fully understood, and had no additional questions.
I guess American-black women need to learn to READ the fucking contract BEFORE signing.
On April 17th, 2021 around 11:50am, I called her down to the kitchen and attempted – using my normal calm tone and standard “Inside Voice” – to discuss these household issues as well as the rent payment options for both April and moving forward. I was trying to show understanding and kindness, while using the Rental Agreement as a Common Baseline. However, the moment I brought up the subject, The Kid became belligerent and proceeded to start shouting at me, using a lot of profanity and extreme disrespect, saying I should stop asking her about the $100 owed, and the household responsibilities. In her rant, she also expressed dissatisfaction with the house’s physical location, as well as the house maintenance expectations. She repeatedly and angrily compared me to her mother.
I was taken aback, and I gently asked her if she felt it’s OK to talk to her landlord in such a disrespectful and rude manner, yet she persisted. Despite my patience, I could not get another word in edgewise. Within her rant, she insinuated bodily harm against me, alluding to doing the same with other people who have made her “angry”. I was shocked, but I did not respond for fear of escalation. Instead, I calmly told her that her tenancy in my house is no longer viable, and I quietly walked away from the kitchen (de-escalation).
Not ONCE did I raise my voice or yell at her, which is most likely what she’s accustomed to, like most hood rats.
The Kid had finally showed her true colors: ghetto attitude, inability to understand contractual obligations, possible illiteracy, and inability to appreciate the living space and situation. I’d had enough, and needed her gone from my sanctuary.
The very next day, I filed a police report and got an Incident Number – I figured in case things escalate, I’d like the cops to know that when I feared for my safety, I notified someone and asked someone for help. Next, I served her the legally-mandated Notice to Quit. Finally, I set up my bodycam, which I wore whenever she was in the house and I had to use the common areas. For the 2 remaining weeks, I felt like a hostage in my own house.
Finally, much to my relief, she vacated my property on the agreed-upon day, without further incident.
I couldn’t find a royalty-free pic that didn’t refer to the Bible, sorry. But you get the point, though.
Here are the bits of knowledge I gleaned during this obese, disrespectful ghetto 18-year old’s stay in my house.
She has a history of being neglected by her parents. Or – more likely – her parents got tired of dealing with her bad attitude and disrespect, and just let her go find happiness elsewhere. Same reason I left my disloyal 2nd wife, actually LOL.
Like millions of fellow Americans, The Kid also suffers from anxiety and depression, and takes anti-psychotic medication.
As the massive obesity indicates, she has a major substance abuse problem – a severe fructose and sugar addiction. All she ever ate was candy, brownies, ice cream, French fries, pop tarts, soda, and juice. Not once did I see this Kid eat anything even closely related to actual food… not even rice, meat, beans, or eggs, and definitely no fruits of vegetables of any kid. Several times she referred to my groceries (eggs, wheat bread, deli meats, spinach) as “fancy stuff”. At least twice during her stay, I worried that she would suffer a pulmonary embolism and die while under my roof!
I rented to this Kid based on human empathy and wanting to “give people a chance”. I wanted to treat someone how I’d have liked to be treated, back in the day in California when I was struggling in the transition from youth to adulthood. Obviously I made a horrible mistake renting out one of my rooms to this particular person, especially without a thorough background and reference check. Similar to how very few American-black women (in particular) can recognize and appreciate a Good Partner, only a few American-black people (in general) can recognize or appreciate a quiet, private, well-equipped, clean, safe, stable, secure, drama-free living space for low rent… a perfect spot for when they’re trying to get established without worrying about living conditions.
My inner voice has been telling me for decades, “Stop throwing pearls to swine“… I REALLY need to pay more attention to my natural instincts.
Let me address the elephant in the room. If you’re reading this article and thinking to yourself, “Wait, you’re a middle-aged African dude, professional, educated, taxpaying homeowner in pretty good shape for your age… why would you let an 18-year old push you around like that? Are you a coward or fag or something? LMAO!”
My response is, first of all, shut your fuckingToxic Masculinity-spewingmouth. Second of all, just think about how it’d look if I’d lowered myself to her level. Think about how it’d look if I got into a shouting match with her, or got physical with her. Think about how it’d look to other adults if I’d “slapped the taste out of her mouth” for speaking to me the way she did. Also, if cops had been called in the heat of the moment, think about the scenario from a RESPONDING POLICE OFFICER perspective. Think about my gender and skin color, and think about the current sociopolitical atmosphere.
I think you KNOW what the outcome would have been, if I had NOT taken the High Road on this.
So stop with the “Oh you’s a weak-ass nyigguh, can’t even deal with an 18-year old fat ghetto bitch, cuh!”, cuz you know damn well if this had happened in Africa, it’d be a completely different response and outcome. Yes, there would definitely be a beating. Probably several beatings. She’d likely be shunned from the local community and forever marked as “trouble”.
The adults of my culture do NOT fuck around with disrespectful youths like that. So trust me, I’m no angel, but this IS America: we have Rule of Law, which IS enforced (at least against us un-connected, wage-slave 99-percent randos off the street).
So before you accuse me of being “weak”, take into context the culture and legal system in which I LIVE. Slapping the kids head CLEAN OFF would have landed me in prison, therefore I literally had no other reasonable choice BUT to take the High Road in this scenario.
Finally, there’s one piece of good news through all this – I can add a couple of notches to my Personal Growth.
You know how some people get assaulted (usually sexually), abused, or ripped off… and when they report or talk about it, they get inevitably victim-blamed?
Well I used to understand this on an intellectual level, only. Part of me was still slightly skeptical about the victim’s claims, especially if there was a lot of “he-said, she-said”. Part of my mind would be like, “Well why was he dating an abusive woman?” or “Why did she stay so long wit an abusive man?” or “Well why did she dress like THAT when she went to THAT kind of party?” or, in this case, “Why did s/he rent a room in their private residence to an obviously shady, delinquent, uncouth, ghetto kid”… without even doing a background check?
Well, no more. That “Well, why did s/he…” devil’s advocate crap is GONE from my mental vocabulary! NOW I know how it feels to be victim-blamed – and low-key shamed – for all-too-human errors in judgement. Now I know that feeling REALLY well.
Another realization: You know how some senior citizens seem to be rather irritable, cold, “mean”, always suspicious of everyone at first? Sure, some of them are just flat-out old-school xenophobic, but some of them have legitimate Trust issues due to shit like what I just went through.
AlterNative African 