Wednesday - Not Just Harmless Flirting
Sep. 20th, 2006 04:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreToday on my drive into work, I glanced over at The Carney to make sure no one I know was talking to him. I do this on most mornings, but I've been a little anxious lately about who I might see. Specifically, I'm looking for Bryan, because he flirts with death more than he should.
When I say, "flirts with death," I'm not talking about winking at and going out for drinks with the Angel of Death the way I do. That's harmless flirting. I mean that once in awhile Bryan goes a little off of the deep end. I still have affection for him, though my friendship with he and Patty is on ice. Nevertheless, I'm ashamed to say I'm mainly concern that his death would inconvenience me a great deal.
This morning The Carney smiled and shook his head at me. He reached up and tipped his cowboy hat as I drove past. I find Death very chivalrous; he's dirty, course and poor, but chivalrous. He's a lot like Bryan, in that way. When Bryan finally does step off of The Ferris Wheel, I think he and The Carney will get along very well. Before Bryan steps away from the ride, I imagine him sharing a smoke and a drink with Death at the gate, telling him what a rush the whole thing was. Not yet, not today, The Carney's demeanor told me; Bryan is alive somewhere, even if he's not well.
Then again, he's never been well. An orphan by the age of 5 and a widower by the age of 19, he attracts tragedy the way a magnet attracts iron. At his best, he is bright, articulate and philosophical. At his worst, he is psychotic and self-destructive. Most of the time, he walks between these two extremes with one foot on either side of the line. Once in a while, he starts to lose control and separates himself from everyone he is close to. If he's going to explode, he wants to put a good distance between himself and his children. He has told me that he's afraid that, like his father, he will destroy the people he loves. He and Patty are currently separated; he walked out on her a month or so ago.
I read Bryan's blog on MySpace and I don't like what I've been seeing. His posts are rambling and incoherent. He makes vague references to doing "what he has to do" and that "his kids will understand even if no one else does." The tone of these posts strikes me as ominous.
I worry he has stopped flirting and started propositioning death more directly. One way he sashays up to death is his habit of driving under the influence. His love of cocaine is another; it has caused him to go into convulsions before. The incident scared him, but not enough to make his stop snorting coke. Patty watch while this happened; she didn't call an ambulance because she said they would have gotten "in trouble" if she had. The father of her children laying on the floor, unconscious, having a grand mal seizure fits my definition of trouble, but apparently not hers. That time, he came out of it only a little the worse for wear. I hope his luck holds out for the next time.
I haven't spoke to them in over a year, so you may wonder what am I so afraid of. It goes back to my Universal Life Ministry ordination. These two pagans used to introduce me to people as their minister. It wasn't just a joke to them. Bryan made me promise that when he dies I will conduct his funeral. I laughed, but agreed that I would. We shook on it.
My father has always told me that a person is only worth as much as his or her word, and I believe this. If Bryan dies, Patty will show up on my door to remind me of my promise. Bryan's death would provide her with a gap in my doorway for her to put her foot in. Even though they aren't together, she still considers herself to be his "Old Lady" and would mourn his as his widow. She's a drama queen, and she wouldn't pass up on the opportunity to reap sympathy just because she hated his guts at the time of his death.
Perhaps I should contact Bryan and tell him that if died I would never forgive him. Better yet, tonight as I drive past The Ferris Wheel I'll stop and have a word with The Carney. I'll ask him to tell Bryan to please keep his head and limbs in the ride until it comes to a slow and natural stop the way it is supposed to, and to remind him that horse play isn't allowed.
Since the Angel of Death is a friend of mine, maybe he'll grant me this small favor.
When I say, "flirts with death," I'm not talking about winking at and going out for drinks with the Angel of Death the way I do. That's harmless flirting. I mean that once in awhile Bryan goes a little off of the deep end. I still have affection for him, though my friendship with he and Patty is on ice. Nevertheless, I'm ashamed to say I'm mainly concern that his death would inconvenience me a great deal.
This morning The Carney smiled and shook his head at me. He reached up and tipped his cowboy hat as I drove past. I find Death very chivalrous; he's dirty, course and poor, but chivalrous. He's a lot like Bryan, in that way. When Bryan finally does step off of The Ferris Wheel, I think he and The Carney will get along very well. Before Bryan steps away from the ride, I imagine him sharing a smoke and a drink with Death at the gate, telling him what a rush the whole thing was. Not yet, not today, The Carney's demeanor told me; Bryan is alive somewhere, even if he's not well.
Then again, he's never been well. An orphan by the age of 5 and a widower by the age of 19, he attracts tragedy the way a magnet attracts iron. At his best, he is bright, articulate and philosophical. At his worst, he is psychotic and self-destructive. Most of the time, he walks between these two extremes with one foot on either side of the line. Once in a while, he starts to lose control and separates himself from everyone he is close to. If he's going to explode, he wants to put a good distance between himself and his children. He has told me that he's afraid that, like his father, he will destroy the people he loves. He and Patty are currently separated; he walked out on her a month or so ago.
I read Bryan's blog on MySpace and I don't like what I've been seeing. His posts are rambling and incoherent. He makes vague references to doing "what he has to do" and that "his kids will understand even if no one else does." The tone of these posts strikes me as ominous.
I worry he has stopped flirting and started propositioning death more directly. One way he sashays up to death is his habit of driving under the influence. His love of cocaine is another; it has caused him to go into convulsions before. The incident scared him, but not enough to make his stop snorting coke. Patty watch while this happened; she didn't call an ambulance because she said they would have gotten "in trouble" if she had. The father of her children laying on the floor, unconscious, having a grand mal seizure fits my definition of trouble, but apparently not hers. That time, he came out of it only a little the worse for wear. I hope his luck holds out for the next time.
I haven't spoke to them in over a year, so you may wonder what am I so afraid of. It goes back to my Universal Life Ministry ordination. These two pagans used to introduce me to people as their minister. It wasn't just a joke to them. Bryan made me promise that when he dies I will conduct his funeral. I laughed, but agreed that I would. We shook on it.
My father has always told me that a person is only worth as much as his or her word, and I believe this. If Bryan dies, Patty will show up on my door to remind me of my promise. Bryan's death would provide her with a gap in my doorway for her to put her foot in. Even though they aren't together, she still considers herself to be his "Old Lady" and would mourn his as his widow. She's a drama queen, and she wouldn't pass up on the opportunity to reap sympathy just because she hated his guts at the time of his death.
Perhaps I should contact Bryan and tell him that if died I would never forgive him. Better yet, tonight as I drive past The Ferris Wheel I'll stop and have a word with The Carney. I'll ask him to tell Bryan to please keep his head and limbs in the ride until it comes to a slow and natural stop the way it is supposed to, and to remind him that horse play isn't allowed.
Since the Angel of Death is a friend of mine, maybe he'll grant me this small favor.
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Date: 2006-09-21 12:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 05:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 01:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 05:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 12:24 pm (UTC)Ray T. Mahorney
WA4WGA
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Date: 2006-09-21 03:20 pm (UTC)I hope your friend finds his right mind soon. I've lost mine a couple of times. I normally find it lurking about in the bushes plotting an all out assault on me. After all, "I'm not crazy I'm just a little unwell" lol
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Date: 2006-09-21 05:40 pm (UTC)Bryan doesn't lose his mind so much as he deliberately tosses it in the gutter to watch it float away. :P
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Date: 2006-09-21 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 05:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 05:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 06:04 pm (UTC)