Saturday, February 23, 2008

Violent Streak

Curve made me promise not to deal with Sug anymore. He said he was too dangerous for me. He might come after me. So I've been trying really hard not to call him. My phone was out of commission for about a week so that helped, but now that it's back on...I'm having a hard time not dialing his number, especially since I know he'll give me some cash. I've also decided on my own not to call Flow anymore. That's a little bit easier. I'd be calling him for sex only and I'd have to travel for that, something I don't want to do. I also thought about calling Radio, but I don't know...that would be like teasing myself, since he's 300 miles away. Papi's out of the question since he'll just yell at me and call the police. But I still miss him. It's so dumb. He's not even worth all these emotions, but I can't help but wish things had ended up differently. Oh God, get him out of my brain please (I beg while listening to the Miami Show CD we made together. Why do I torture myself so? I'm hopeless. But I picked some really good songs.) Why did I have to meet him? Why?! Why do I even care?! You know what would make me feel better? If I could go punch him in the arm. That would help. If I could just tell him off and punch him in the arm.

I like beating on guys. Ever since I smacked the smirk off of Tracks little freckled face in elementary school, hitting guys has been fun. I don't do it all the time. I got in a play fight with a guy on the bus in 5th grade. I hit a guy for smacking me on the butt that same year. I punched a guy in the arm in 7th grade. In high school, a friend and I staged a wrestling match with two of our guy friends. After that I tried to smack one of them unsuccessfully out side of school. I kicked the other one in the balls once for trying to lock my friend in the boys bathroom stall. It was actually an accident. I was just kicking whatever body part was closest and his junk happened to be it. In college, I hit a guy repeatedly in the back because he pushed me out of the way to get on a party bus. I also attacked a guy with a stick for joking on me (his girlfriend didn't like me). He had on a puffy coat, so I'm sure it didn't hurt. I got in a slap fight in the Walmart parking lot with the ex I hate. I used to play slap my most recent ex all the time. He liked it though because it was usually during intimate moments. I smacked Papi the night he was talking in Spanish to that chick on the phone, after we left this burrito place. He liked it too. I wanted to do it again, but he was eating his nachos. Smacking guys around is fun and they can take it.

It's so strange because I'm not a violent person. I've never been in a real fight with any girls. I remember in 8th grade, I was defending a friend against some girls who were joking on her because she was obese. One of the girls said to me, "If you say one more word, I'm gonna slap you." I opened my mouth, but after a second of thought decided I didn't want to be slapped because then I'd have to fight her. So I missed my one chance to get into a real fight. Right now for the first time in my life, I think maybe I should have said something. How much different would my life be, if I went into high school with a blemished record, a set of enemies, and a reputation. In high school, there was this one guy that hated me because I rejected him. He tried to hit me with soccer balls during PE once. I was walking away from him and each time a ball flew pass me, I turned around and mocked him, "Ha! You missed me." and turned right back around. I felt invinscible. I could have fought him. I mean if one of those balls actually hit me, I would have had to do something. So maybe that was another missed opportunity, but only because he had bad aim. The only other time maybe was at a club this summer, when this chick decided to say something about my large asset. She was so jealous. I could have gotten gully with! But i'm just not that type of person, besides she didn't say it to me, just loud enough for me to hear.

So anyway, if I could find a way to yell at Papi and then hit him in the arm (and then run away before he called the police) I would. That would be such good therapy. But alas, it will never happen. So in the mean time I just sit here wondering if Burbs is really who he says he is or if he's some inmate who gets computer time once a week and wondering when Curve is going to try to fill in for for all the men he's making me push out of my life.

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