so there i was...
a few days ago, midnight-ish o’clock, perched up on this little table thingy we have on our front porch, peeking in the window to see if bebe was still asleep. somebody doesn’t tend to wake when bebe stirs like i do…i hear this rustling sound in the bushes just to the right of the front porch. thinking it’s one of the 5,000 feral kittens living between the houses, i step off the table and look over to see a man 4 feet away from me, sans shirt which is flung over his shoulder, stealthily maneuvering between the tree and the bush, head cocked, headed back into the area between our houses - trying to look in our neighbor’s window. the only thing at the end of this area is the gate to our backyard. i froze. my heart starts this insane pounding, and it’s all i can hear. he probably heard it too. that’s probably what scared him.
without ever looking at me, he starts a bit, then takes off across their front yard and jumps the three feet to the sidewalk below. he then makes tracks, all fast like, up the street looking all around like he’s about to be busted doing something he shouldn’t.scared the bejesus (what is bejesus, anyway?) outta me. i have Deep-Seeded-Safety-Issues stemming from traumatic past stuff i won’t bore you with. add a bebe in the mix that i’m responsible for and we’ve got us quite a concoction.
of course, i come inside and think about it for the next 4 hours since i can’t get to sleep.
i hate feeling frightened in my own home .
even though i know, that statistically, something like 98% of violent crime victims know their attackers.
but still.
so, what was he doing? was he trying to sneak up on me? i ‘spose i was hidden by the tree that he was coming around, as well as the one by the table thingy on our front porch…
was he looking for one of our neighbors? (come to find out, no.)
was he casing the place, looking for a way in? (most likely – unless I missed a possible scenario).
then i got pissed. prepare thyselves for a rant.
i suppose it would be easiest to be angry at the Creeping Man, for what I think he was about to do - but all that experience did was renew and reaffirm my anger and sadness at the economic system that created him. the same one that has perpetrated my fear. we live in a blatantly harmful capitalistic society that would have us believe that accumulating massive amounts of stuff at all costs defines who we are as individuals. dictates our worth as people. the pursuit of this so-called “american dream” has created an inevitable back-lash of folks that want/need/are addicted to the creations of this system and are willing to risk becoming a pawn in the criminal injustice system simply to try and have a wee bit. all the while, the real criminals, a handful of people really, are making off with the loot – leaving the rest of the millions of us to fend for ourselves and live in denial that we won’t end up wasting away in a nursing home someday penniless.
and we live in the Wealthiest Country In The World. massive dis-connect.
i do know this – the answer isn’t more cops, as the politicians love to stump on and would also love for us to believe. all of those laws/options created to control “the problem” can be likened to slapping a band-aid on an arm that needs to be amputated. we don’t need a war on crime – we need a war on poverty. martin luther king jr. said it best, “there is nothing more dangerous than to build a society, with a large segment of people in that society, who feel that they have no stake in it; who feel that they have nothing to lose. people who have a stake in their society, protect that society, but when they don't have it, they unconsciously want to destroy it.”
amen.
i can only imagine what brought the Creeping Man to the moment that i saw him, sneaking around some shrubbery to try and find a way in a stranger’s home. what in his life led him here? do we ever ask that? do we ever really question the symptoms of the dis-ease? do we realize that in order for this system to “work” that an entire segment of society must suffer? and that suffering spreads itself? it is a vicious cycle, indeed. one in which many people stand to be hurt – mentally, physically, and otherwise. no man-made thing in this culture is that cool OR that important... except food. food is important.
speaking of standing, i think i’ll go stand out on the porch, in the dark, just to prove to me that i can. to prove that the bastards haven’t won. to quiet my fear until it passes. and to think about what might be done differently than it is today.
posted by supergirlest @ Sunday, July 09, 2006
