What was that show from the early 90s where the guy was obsessed with tv. All his memories of childhood were merged with scenes from the favorite tv shows. That's how I'm beginning to feel. I'm pretty sure my backyard neighbors don't really work in artistic concrete solutions for the home. They most likely use their grey-primered milk truck for the purpose of transporting their meth lab. Why else are their lights on at 3:16 in the morning. Then there are those all night rave parties they throw. My other neighbor sites the out of state cars lining our street as proof that they advertise these drug parties on Craig's list or MySpace inviting people far and wide to come out and disturb the relative peace of our neighborhood.
Of course, even before these neighbors, there were the rats. Before the rats there was the empty cat house--which in my mind was also a meth house. I still worry about the health of those triplets living there now. I shouldn't--there's another symptom of our drug crazed world: triplets. Fertility drugs. Next to them is the house tucked into the corner. The only people on the street who smoke. And they do it in their front yard! Maybe the cars lining the streets had something to do with that house. Maybe. There isn't a yard full of cars parked there this morning as there usually is. I just figured the people there are big on family and friends. They like having a full house. But maybe they are running a pot ring and they were all arrested last night at 3:16 a.m. in front of my house...
...Funny thing about them is that they never seem to use their upper floor (except to come out the front door to smoke on the porch). I still don't understand why they wouldn't prefer to smoke in the privacy of their back yard which they can access from the sliding door of their walk-out basement.
How do I know these things? Probably because I'm not only paranoid, I'm curious. Sure, some people might call it nosy. No. It's simple curiosity. Before the current owners purchased the house, I walked through it during an open house. I like to be familiar with the floor plans of my neighbor's dwellings. That way, when I'm passing by in the mornings or evenings while walking my dogs, I can accurately imagine what the people inside are doing.
Accurate imagination. Is this the seed of paranoia? Like prejudice and racism, paranoia is an irrational state of mind, but it holds because it's based in some level of reality. Reality skewed by imagination. Oh the places my mind can take me. Now let's see where my legs can go.
4 comments:
"dream on"
is the show
Thank you! Normally, I would have obsessed and researched the title and then put it in, but I just threw it out there today! (Baby steps.)
There are few responses to this post
1. Maybe your neighbors were wondering what your lights were doing on at 3:16 in the am.
2. Can I buy you a pair of binoculars so it's a little easier to see what is going on with the neighbors?! G. Mary Jane maybe has an extra set.
3. Let me introduce you to my mother-in-law and husband! I think you could all get along with your paranoia quirks. and
4. You just reminded me that I wanted to post something about Oct-o-mom. Shouldn't you have to be screened before given fertility drugs? They don't let unfit people adopt children...(as you said, a whole different topic)
Well...you should know that I anticipate that my neighbors may be thinking these very things, so I don't turn my lights on at 3:16 a.m. Plus, it's far more difficult to clearly make out what's going on over there if my own lights are on.
I've thought about the binocular thing lately. Not there just yet. But it is a thread of an idea I might explore for the creative non-fiction course.
You should definitely weigh in on the octo-mom. Either that or the Big Love controversy.
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