Trapped Inside Herself

She used to be trapped inside of herself, the past demons cornering her into the alley of darkness hidden deep in the perception of her psyche. She fought the demons, as they surrounded her trying to suppress her and destroy her with the false illusion of her past becoming her reality again. This is what she saw every time she looked in the mirror. She never looked at the girl in the reflection staring back at her. Her focus never seemed to pertain to the aspects of her mortal body. What her attention was zoned on was beyond the flesh and blood of the girl poised in the mirror. She was in her soul that is where she was every time the mirror forced her to look upon the eyes of her being. Perhaps this is where the origin of her new self stemmed from, beginning with the reflections of the soul, creating a raging storm between past demons and the heart deep within, ending with the rebirth of something new. It seemed her past was chasing her. The translucent ghosts of her life in the past had come to combine as a clay and been molded into an entity of “what once was.” She thought they would haunt her forever, stalking the thoughts in her mind, stealing any sense of peace her being may have had contained. These were her demons, taunting her with everything she had been, whispering lies of what she was becoming.

They were grotesque, but she found them beautiful, as she often found many dark disturbing things. Their appearance was something derived from her own imagination. Something she maybe had found in her gruesome wonderland. Black rose vines wrapped around their bodies, skin crafted of the shadows that once clung to her soul and smothered her with her fears. Their teeth were formed of the sharp razors, glinting silver, as she had once used them to pierce her skin, releasing her pain in the scarlet streams flowing outward from beneath her flesh. Their eyes were glossy, cold, and burning red, holding every drop that has ever cascaded down her cheek, and every crimson tear she had ever set free from her flesh. From deep inside they made shrieks that of a banshee, every wave of sound woven together by threads of every scream ever to have escaped her mortal being. Oozing from their mouths was the maroon wine she spilled from her body during her past attempts of erasing herself from this dominion. All these features formed perfectly together and created the Demon Fey standing still like statues, blocking her path out of the grimy alley.

She studied them, ignoring their beastly appearance, focusing only on their internal characteristics. She stared deep into their soul-less eyes, seeing them for what the real purpose of their false existence in her consciousness was. They were shadow tinted mirrors, reflecting the sins, regrets, heartache, and pain of her past. Looking into the reflections, she knew she should’ve ran from them and fled into the fog of the future and the present. Instead, her body refused to obey the request of her logic and slowly moved toward the demons. The demons also seemed daring and invaded the space between them. Their movement was quite gracious, resembling that of a dance. Perhaps they were dancing, their bodies swaying with each step, matching the melody of her past.

Her soul maybe should have felt some sense of fear, but all it felt was welcomed by the demons. It drew her nearer to them, the attraction pulling them together like the gravity between two magnets. The gap between her and the demons grew less and less. Without permission her hand reached out towards them, lightly brushing the skin of the demon nearest to her. At that moment when they had touched, anger-wired adrenaline injected into her body like a syringe filled with heroine. It flowed throughout her being, infesting her psyche with the emotions and instincts of a deranged animal. The atmosphere grew dense with the mists of her hatred, clouding the thoughts flickering through her mind. She closed her eyes and breathed in the haze, letting herself slip into the intensity of her emotions stemming from the past.When she opened her eyes and exhaled it seemed as if her breath paralyzed the universe, stealing the reality of time. The viridian-amber shade once filling her irises with life and being, now painted over with the amaranthine shades of insanity, coloring her eyes hollow. No longer had her own spirit dwelt within her body. Something twisted and deadly was lurking in her being, infesting her veins with madness, devouring her core with a newfound bloodlust.She looks up at the demons, her lips being consumed by a sinister grin. Not only did the insanity possess her soul it, it also began transforming her physical aspects. Her original hair had been about medium length touching just above the middle of her back, the layers gave it volume, adding a seductive characteristic to it. The color was something of a light shade of chestnut intertwined with strands of white, silver, gold, and copper. It looked as if it had been stitched together using fabrics of the sand, stardust, moonlight, sunshine, and the gleam of precious gems. But now insanity had bleached it white and grown it down to her knees. Her face took shape of a more mature structure. Her light pink lips grew plumper and kissed with a hint of deep rouge. Her already pale skin lost most of its pigment and was now pale like the winter snow. Her slender body filled in with curves, bust and hips connected by a smaller waist, forming a body that of a goddess. Ebony raven wings materialized in the space between her shoulder blades, ripping the clothes of her body as they grew to more than 8 feet in height and width.Her new form, driven by insanity, positions itself into a battle stance, knowing they were going to attack. She reaches down to her sides and pulls two swords (fabricated of darkness) from their sheaths. The universe grew still and quiet, every sound and movement hushed out of existence. She stares down her foes, waiting in silence until they make their move.

The demons break the silence, darting toward her with the intentions of a malicious origin. She spreads her wings and soars into the air, demons following close behind her. She stops and turns around, they lunge at her violently, hoping to rip through her flesh and taste the sweetness of her bodily wine. Without effort, she swings her blades, severing the heads of the first group of enemies. More attack, coming at her from all angles. Without fault she defends, her long silver hair syncing to the rhythm of her body as she dances with her blades. She flits through the sky, the light of the moon caressing her skin serves as a spotlight, shimmering over her stage of twilight and mauve. Her blades sing as they leave the demons in crimson ribbons and scarlet rain. Her raven wings flutter and fall, landing her safely on the asphalt. The blood and corpses of her defeated opponents fall to ground like snow. Insanity disappears from her eyes.

She looks up and sees the stars gazing down upon her, sparkling with what seemed to be a hint of hope for her destiny. Without turning back, she walks away, skin flawless and untouched by battle. She smiles knowing her past is dead and that the fate of the stars is wagering in her favor. Running, she spreads her wings and takes flight. Serenity overwhelms her being as she soars away from what had once chained down her soul. Leaving the corpses behind, her past dissipates from her thoughts and her shadow self is swept away from existence. Tonight she is born anew. Today she rises out of the debris and ash of the past as a reborn angel of darkness.

Being A Number On A List

I write quite a bit about the United States Air Force, the AMMO careerfield, the places in the world I have traveled, and the people I have met because my time in the Air Force consumed just shy of 15 years of my life. I write quite a bit about being a United States Air Force Disabled Veteran as well since this “status” was given to me and has been a part of my life for the last 13 years. In a way, my “status” is no more than being a number in a system and a monthly disbursement of funds. Fortunately for me, I did not have the struggles that we hear over time about how people get denied benefits. I was fortunate to receive a 100% disabled rating from the start. One of the “benefits”, if it can be considered a benefit, is that my vehicles bear Texas DV permanent license plates. I’m one of those people you will see out in the actual parking lot and not in the designated handicap parking spaces. Why? Good question. Perhaps because I intend on confusing people who notice. It really matters not to me where I park, most days, as I get older, being closer to the entrance is nice, but not required. I can get there from anywhere, might take me a little longer, but I will get there eventually.

Why do I bring all of this up? I had an interesting interaction with a young lady at our local Big Box supercenter, insert the name you know belongs, who afterwords really got my son to thinking and asking questions he had never asked before. First, she asked to take a picture of my H1 Alpha where the license plate is visible to help her in her project she is putting together showing disabled parking placard fraud. When I asked why she responded with an interesting observation she made while watching me and others. She pointed out that each entrance to the Big Box supercenter has 21 handicap parking spaces yet there are 40+ vehicles out in general parking that have disabled plates. She continued to explain that there are only two vehicles with actual disabled plates using handicap parking spaces, the rest are using disabled placards of different varieties. He points out that half of them are expired, some of them have had the dates obscured some way, and a small percentage actually look proper. I still don’t see my place in this conversation yet. She continued by saying that the two vehicles that had actual disabled plates had people in them which were using the assistance of motorized chair, where all the placarded vehicles moved under self locomotion. Okay, so what is the issue or problem with me. She says she has noticed before as she has been doing her “study” for a few months that there are times I park is handicap parking when it is available. I was waiting for her to ask me why, but it never happened.

I soon walked off because I actually was there for a reason beyond looking who is parking where. As I walked off I made a call to a friend of my in the county sheriffs office and asked if what she was doing was legal. He said he would roll out there and see if he could talk with her. Why did I call? I called for 2 reasons, first of all her stalking people in the parking lot enough to recognize people who frequent this store (which is mega-creepy) and secondly because she was taking pictures of people, vehicles, and license plates. Is she doing anything illegal? We’ll talk about that here in a bit. This whole thing prompted my son to start asking a few questions of his own. We will talk about a few of them. First he asked why the police don’t tow, boot, or ticket vehicle in disabled parking with expired credentials. I actually know this answer, it is because disabled parking violations on private property is not exactly a high priority with the police department. Now this same problem in a public setting or at government facilities is swiftly handled. Why? My guess is money, logistics, and manning. Second he asked what were the requirements for getting a disabled plate or placard. Personally I don’t know what others needed to do, I had to fill out forms and be examined before being given my prescription to take to the DMV. I would only expect that this would be the same process for everyone. But, I don’t often assume things, so I leave this one as unknown.

Thirdly he asked don’t I wish that I could closer to the entrance all the time. Sure, it would be nice, but I don’t mind the longer walk. Last, he asked me a question which he shouldn’t be worrying about which was are most of the people who have handicap parking privileges frauds. Good question. People have their reasons for doing everything. Most people who know they are doing something wrong have already weighed the odds of getting caught and are willing to accept the consequences. Sure, I see people getting in the car and out their car and wonder to myself what the reason for their disabled plate/placard is. But then I would imagine that people ask the same about me. What they see is a man in his mid-40s who gets out or gets in his vehicles a little slower than others. They see a man who walks a little bit slower than most. Other than a modest limp, nobody would think nothing to be any different about me. I don’t where my medical history on my shirt for the world to read nor is it available at your request to review. I personally don’t know other people are doing or why they are doing it. In the end if I ever get to the point where my mobility is really shitty I can always have my wife do the annoying thing I see allot, which is to stop right in front of the front doors and drop me off.

Now, getting back to the young lady in the parking lot. She claims to be a college student here locally and a while back handicap parking fraud caught her attention and through some research she found it was a large problem that is mostly ignored. So, she has become an “advocate” for the disabled driver, she uses her website to get out her word and findings, I guess like an investigative reporter of sorts. She also does petitions and writes lawmakers in Austin to try to get the laws changed so the fraud will disappear. As well, she feels she is at least a little bit partially responsible for the fines increasing in Texas for violators. I look like at it like this, karma truly is a bitch. Everything has a way of catching up with you in one way or another. I know that I’m not the one who is a fraud, I’m not the one doing something illegal, I’m not the one who needs a lesson in morality, and I’m not the person who will get shot confronting someone over a parking space. Life is too short to let the little things ruin your day. It may seem that I don’t actually care, which is isn’t altogether true, I do care, I care that I have myself in-line, what someone else does with their life is their choice. Too many assholes have frauded the disabled parking system that Joe Public looks at all of us with scrutiny and in-turn sees no harm in the handicap space being mis-used. Not everyone is a thief and a liar, not everyone is a fraud, not everyone is lazy, and not everyone who has disabled plates needs to be in disabled parking. It would be nice however, if people did follow the law and that the laws are enforced. In a perfect world maybe, but not in the world I live in.

Overall I guess the actual point of this post is to show people that not everyone feels “privileged” with what they believe to be their undisputable right to park in a handicap spot. And yes, I am a person who could go either way. Most days my body decides to be cooperative with me living my life, other days not so much, but life must still carry forward. I think the only problem I have with people, in general, is the ones that admit they borrow a vehicle or a placard so they can park closer, because that is just lazy, and lazy isn’t a handicap, it’s a choice people make everyday.

Perception & Reality