Flodis Issue 07

eZine lover (@eZine)

Published in 

Flowers of Disruption

 · 26 Apr 2019

  

 
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    flowers of disruption #7 -- 24.07.99 -- by trilobyte 
       == the zine for tasha & anjee == 

--- 
there are now officially two issues of flodis known as #5.  you can refer to 
the one created 
at a later date as flodis #6.  this is, officially, flodis #7. 

--- 

this issue was written on a laptop at the local internet cafe.  i didn't 
know if i should 
submit this to hoe or put it in flodis.  but i can't do anything right, so 
i'll release it 
in flodis.  maybe it'll go into hoe later, since this is the zine for anjee 
and tasha, 
while other people actually read hoe. 

i must've been doing something right because the toilet began running its 
water right as i was done doing my business.  i gave it the kind of 
positive reinforcement that all living things deserve when they do 
something right.  and it had given me mine. 

the toilet was probably correct in assuming that i had read a depressing 
story when i was depressed, which is always a good thing to do.  it shows 
you that you have a right to be unhappy or melancholy, because other people 
have done so and have ended up being quite successful by the end. 

the story i read involved a pond, and ponds involve water.  the toilet ran 
its water to confirm the place of the pond-story in my mind.  my depression 
has little to do with water, i don't think; or maybe it easily could, since 
i really might not understand a fluid ounce of it.  maybe if i did, i 
wouldn't be in this state. 

it could involve the cold capsules i took earlier this evening.  drugs that 
slow you down can slow down your interest in the world.  there are other 
people in the world but they just dont have much influence on you.  
something else is influencing you, and that something else is known as a 
drug. 

for as long as i can remember my mother would give me little yellow pills 
made of condensed powder.  i'd place them in my mouth and they'd instantly 
absorb any moisture they touched, and their powdery little bodies would 
stick to my mouth's internal skin. 

these pills were supposed to do something to help my runny nose and sneezing 
and other allergic or cold-related symptoms.   i only remember them making 
me tired, though.  i'd be woozy.  that could mean that my whole memory of a 
grade-school experience is just a yellow powdery capsule.  it enters 
my mouth and sticks to my gums and cheeks.  i have to swallow it before it 
dissolves there and only leaves me tired with a bad chemical aftertaste. 

i used to drink coffee back then too.  the wait for the bus would be cold 
and i'd wrap myself in a blanket with my mother, standing there on the 
sidewalk.  some winters were just blisteringly cold.  i was pretty 
comfortable there in the blanket with my mother, though, and she would have 
a mug of coffee which she had prepared at our house just a few hundred feet 
away.  the coffee would send warm steam into the cold air and sometimes 
when it was under the blanket it was like just another family member 
keeping us warm.   i would take small sips and it would join the yellow 
pills in my 
stomach to make me unaware of the messiness of winter and its effects on me 
at school.  

in 1st grade william was in my class and he would come to school in a suit 
and tie.  he dressed very nicely.  he represented an aged businessman in my 
mind.  i believed that he knew something i didn't.  the truth is probably 
just that his parents thought they knew something and they proved this 
knowledge by dressing him for school in a suit and tie.  it was quite an 
experience for me.  i was probably just jealous.  

he made me jealous later, too, after he left my grade school and after a few 
years had passed by.  i was in 6th grade and i saw him downtown at night.  
it was the festival my town put on called "on the  
waterfront" and he was dressed in a leather jacket, jeans, and a tshirt.  i 
probably thought he had a tattoo too, but he was only in 6th grade. 

something had happened to him,  because he wasn't at my school anymore and 
he no longer dressed in a suit and tie.  he was the only person my age i 
had ever seen who had gone from a suit and tie to a leather jacket.  he 
looked tough, but i knew that he used to wear the business outfit his 
parents dressed him in.  

i was better than him, though my mother still bought my clothes, because i 
hadnt changed.  i hadn't gone from one fashion to another.  i remained with 
the same crowd he had been a part of when he wore his suit and tie. i was 
still wearing my jeans and tshirt,  and i was still with the crowd. he was 
with some people who probably did screwy, bad things. 

i should have known that he wasn't cut out for the suit and tie way of life 
when i realized that he wasnt a very good speller.  he couldnt add very 
well either back in 1st grade.  he had some problems with addition and he 
ended up wearing a leather jacket and hanging out with a different element. 
 maybe he knew something i didn't.  i wonder if i know it now. 

im probably still with the same crowd and even though i pick out the clothes 
i wear now, and i can add and i spell words well, but i'm probably one of 
the only members of my group who even remembers william.  or emma. 

emma had an old woman's name and that karma shaped her being.  she was an 
old woman who was in 1st grade.   she already had some sort of raspy voice 
and talked like she had seen the world.  she was from california or 
minnesota or some other large state that i hadn't been to.  she wore 
clothes 
that an old woman would have worn,  clothes that her mother or father 
dressed her in.  her mother or father also decided to name her "emma". 

once emma began to dress herself she probably developed into the character 
of a  gothic girl.  she used to be dressed in skirts and shirts with 
classically dead flower patterns on them.  i'm sure she changed and began 
wearing black clothing with undead flower patterns.  and maybe she had acne 
too, a problem that i never had to face. 

now that i think about it, these old memory-people, william and emma, both 
were given classic names and were dressed in classic fashion.  i've always 
been distinctly part of the present, even if i develop my own present by 
stealing from the past. 

like what's wrong with having a classic relationship today?  what's wrong 
with having a guy take care of his girl?  in a classical world, the girl 
wouldn't have a job, and wouldn't have money, so the guy would take care of 
her by buying her food and drink and movie ticket.   

nowadays the girls all have their problems which they've been trained to 
believe their guy has no ability to help resolve.  problems may shape the 
person you are, but they also take away from the greater shape in which 
you've been created.  people weren't made to exist as a problemy glob.   
they've got other function, you know.     so let's get rid of the 
deconstructive problems and live on constructive functions. 

i live in a house that was built with the idea that it would stand for as 
long as it possibly could.  but during the process of its construction, 
certain accidental imperfections entered its foundation and frame.  each 
one of these imperfections take life away from the house and as time goes 
on, the house will be decreasingly able to serve its function as a house.  
each person who has lived in the house has created and produced additional 
faults in it. 

these imperfections may remain and fester, and the house may tremble and 
fall down earlier than its designers had intended.  or these faults may be 
repaired, the house will be a functional shelter  
for a healthier amount of time. 

but thats enough about my house, i'm sure.  the house next door is much 
worse because it had some substance and spouse abusers living in it.  if 
you can't take care of yourself or your loved one, theres little hope for 
the survival of your house.  luckily the house is made of metal and even if 
the inside is torn to shreds, the general structure will remain for someone 
else to come in and repair.  that's what we hope will happen at least.  we 
dont want more abusive people to move in and destroy the house further.  
whenever those jerks living in the house next door would scream at each 
other and do drugs and beat each other and yell at their kids and trash 
their furniture, we would feel less comfortable with ourselves.  it's hard 
to be stuck next to a house full of that many problems.  at least it didn't 
make us trash our house.  we're not that easily impressionable. 

you know what gets me?   the father-husband-man of that household would 
always be paranoid that my mother was looking out of our window at his 
house.  maybe she was doing this because she wanted to watch our property 
value go down every hour because of the way he treated his family and his 
house.  maybe she was worried about the man's tendency to always be 
abusive.  or maybe she was looking at the weather. 

either way, he called a local radio station to complain about how his 
neighbor, the alderman, was always looking in his windows.  the radio 
station didn't seem to care and maybe even understood why she did this.  my 
mother had the tact to not call the radio station right back and explain 
her position.  she didn't publically denounce the way this man lived his 
life.  at the time, it seemed to me like she should have called.  i thought 
that she should have defended herself by explaniing to the radio 
station and its listeners that our neighbor was an alcoholic drug addict who 
beat his wife, yelled at his kids, and played loud music late at night in 
his metal house.  now i think that she probably made the right decision by 
not calling.  let him trash his house if he wants.  let him be jealous of 
my mother and the functional way she maintains her house. 

i spend most of my time in the basement of my house and have lived like that 
for years.  i used to have all my toys spread out across the sparsely 
furnished floor.  i had so much room to play with my legos and my baseball 
cards and my nintendo games.  sometimes they'd all be out at the same time 
because i'd get tired of my legos and get out my baseball cards without 
putting the legos away.  i knew i'd come back to them soon.  and then i'd 
get out my nintendo games when i got tired of the baseball cards, 
leaving the baseball cards out, and there would be a big mess.  then my mom 
would come downstairs and pick my mess up off the floor, and everything 
would end up in the wrong place.  she messed up my complete set of 1988 
Topps by doing that.  man. 

 
---- 

                                      ŠÕÕª                 .-. 
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.----------------------------------------------------------| |     trilobyte 
`----------------------------------------------------------`-' 
          flodis / flowers of disruption #7 / 24.07.99 / trilobyte@hoe.nu 
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