i'm awake now for a reason...
irony. i promised myself no more entries like this. it's pathetic that i plead sanctuary! sanctuary! to my freaking computer. out of all things.
i'm feelin' unsafe, and this time it's not gonna be momentary...
i am awake at 5 a.m.
It was a rude awakening, a phone call from dad. it's for mom (she had just gotten home from work. she works nights). my sister and i gather in our kitchen to listen to the chronicle my mother tells him about a nightmarish ride home from work.
about the cop that knocked on our door an hour earlier, 4 a.m.
about a suspicious car with four intent passengers.
the phone is handed to me. i hear the story.
i am scared shitless, and the worry refuses to fade away.
my mom and dad usually switch cars. She arrives home around 4 am, he leaves the house for work around that time. So he waits every dark morning for her arrival, and they switch the champagne Mercedes.
she was late today, more so than usual. so he's standing at the edge of our sidewalk, above the spraypainted 2053, and waits keenly for her arrival. the headlights brighten...it's her car.
she stops in front of the house, but does not park.
she looks at dad and signals toward something behind the car.
she is being followed.
a suspicious silver car, with four intent passengers, staring straight at my father.
dad steps onto the street. the silver car makes an abrupt u-turn and zooms off, wielding menacingly into Elderway. mom has already run into the house, dad drives to a far, well-lit street and dials the police.
they meet him there, another patrol car sent to our home.
dad gives info, so does mom.
he takes another stroll down our street, headlights off, and sees a group of four young men, talking.
intent.
he tells me to check the car when day breaks. i tell him about Irene's stolen car, the five other cars including mine that were broken into the past year.
we're gettin' Clubs for our cars, and a home security system.
i feel so unsafe.
i thought in hacienda heights, neighborhoods need not worry.
i think this house needs a pistol. that'll drown the fucking worry.
let it be a warning to all those living in my area.
irene, ellen, teresa.
nervous laughter. heh. it could be anything.
there could be any reason.
ghosts and devils seem stupid now, or, forewarning.
chills.
nam mo cuu kho cuu nan quan the am bo tat
nam mo cuu kho cuu nan quan the am bo tat
i'm feelin' unsafe, and this time it's not gonna be momentary...
i am awake at 5 a.m.
It was a rude awakening, a phone call from dad. it's for mom (she had just gotten home from work. she works nights). my sister and i gather in our kitchen to listen to the chronicle my mother tells him about a nightmarish ride home from work.
about the cop that knocked on our door an hour earlier, 4 a.m.
about a suspicious car with four intent passengers.
the phone is handed to me. i hear the story.
i am scared shitless, and the worry refuses to fade away.
my mom and dad usually switch cars. She arrives home around 4 am, he leaves the house for work around that time. So he waits every dark morning for her arrival, and they switch the champagne Mercedes.
she was late today, more so than usual. so he's standing at the edge of our sidewalk, above the spraypainted 2053, and waits keenly for her arrival. the headlights brighten...it's her car.
she stops in front of the house, but does not park.
she looks at dad and signals toward something behind the car.
she is being followed.
a suspicious silver car, with four intent passengers, staring straight at my father.
dad steps onto the street. the silver car makes an abrupt u-turn and zooms off, wielding menacingly into Elderway. mom has already run into the house, dad drives to a far, well-lit street and dials the police.
they meet him there, another patrol car sent to our home.
dad gives info, so does mom.
he takes another stroll down our street, headlights off, and sees a group of four young men, talking.
intent.
he tells me to check the car when day breaks. i tell him about Irene's stolen car, the five other cars including mine that were broken into the past year.
we're gettin' Clubs for our cars, and a home security system.
i feel so unsafe.
i thought in hacienda heights, neighborhoods need not worry.
i think this house needs a pistol. that'll drown the fucking worry.
let it be a warning to all those living in my area.
irene, ellen, teresa.
nervous laughter. heh. it could be anything.
there could be any reason.
ghosts and devils seem stupid now, or, forewarning.
chills.
nam mo cuu kho cuu nan quan the am bo tat
nam mo cuu kho cuu nan quan the am bo tat