posted on Apr, 8 2009 @ 10:23 PM
But I'm not a manchurian. I'm internally aware of how to hit and where to break. But not where not to. I draw others to me as an easy target. I
don't know what I am doing-standing there? Minding my own business? A pretty face, uplifting free smile, beautiful green eyes-a rarity. I don't know
I just want to be left alone, or engaged by 'normal' people. I have nothing in common with anyone.
I live by partial sonar using my ears and nose to move forward, and the reflection in window shops and off crome to watch where I can't see. It's
always been this way. Activity and raised voices bother me. People bother me. I go out to smell the lilacs-but they are always in the way.
I can't defend myself from danger-I'm too aware that I will end the threat. Because although I know I am not a manchurian-I am aware of where to hit
but not of where not too-a miss on my part would mean the wheelchair for me. So instead I call the cops for their protection. It is the truth no one
Why should I go to jail for someone else's instigation? Because I know the judge is going to say you should have known better. Or maybe I'll like
it. Or maybe I'll mean it. Or maybe it will take hold of me.
I just don't want to find out unless I have no other options. There are always other options. There is always backing down, deflecting, standing up,
and walking away. I never instigate. Trouble always finds me. Trouble I don't ask for.
I can't give the trouble what it deserves.
I have to act when I have to act. There is no wait for violence to call the police. At the point of violence the fight is on. There is no 'call
home'. Only stop the threat. Kick the threat, beat the threat-and then call the police.
But when I can't see and there is a lot of movement and the voices are raised-I am watching the minute body languages and translating them from years
upon years of catalouging and accuracy comparison slotted away and pulled out to carry me through each and every day. I don't have time to think
about but the moment.
I just wish people would behave themselves so I don't have to call 911 for their protection.
I need to pick up some neat trick such as yelling very loudly.
I look to good to be the half blind autistic lady with spinal injuries raised by the Manchurian man. In fact it seems people label me as something
entirely and completly other. I wish they knew.
Every perp that comes my way-I have to wonder who controls their thoughts. Every mental case. Every substance abuserer. Many gutter drunks.
More recently there has been an "I love you" fad. I am nervously nice to people. I truly mean well. But...three about absolute strangers who's
names I know and I am seen around-and one completely total stranger, have turned on a dime and mouthed "I love you"-outside of context of any
greeting or civil chatter.
One hit and misses between saying I love you and I'm going to kill you/I'm going to slit your throat.
They are all manageable.
The other night someone kicked the outer door for 3 hours. Today someone in my space attempting to overlay his last encounter onto me-rambling and
yelling about god and judging him and b's and c's ...and all I wanted to do was knock him upside the ... or tackle him down.
But the community calls me foul for protecting the guy from the snap I was about really wanting to experience. The break from restraint. The
justification of retaliation.
I know it would feel good-but, I know that I both don't know 'how' to fight as well as I do know how to likely end him in the process. My teachers
would say I do to cover for their mistakes in training-and ego ignorances.
But-in the moment I only know that I am a very little person who has to move on twice as hard.
Everybody else gets to fight their problems. I don't get to. I am the manchurian man's untrainable daughter-it would only prove all those
allud-sions-and my whole life fighting him would be for nothing.
I don't know what he needed me for, really.