Puzzle Pieces: Showtime

Looking at my neighbor’s heathered green front door that should have been my front door all along I am saddened at the loss of years of my life.  Nearly six years since moving here I have yet to have a home here.  I barely have furniture.  There is no hominess about.  No cute touches that show a life is lived here.

If I had not made it clear in my earlier post about the lemon water, B.C., neighbor yelling over the phone at his pool, these are puzzle pieces.

Recalling the time we lived in Oldsmar, it is when I first saw Young Sherlock Holmes on Showtime.  Why I remember it was on Showtime, I have no idea. I watched it over and over.  Cable was free in the Village at Old Tampa Bay the apartment complex we lived in.  I name the apartment complex for a reason – it is known around here.  That is to say the role the Bluetooth plays around here.

In my opinion, the role of the Bluetooth should change.

As I see it the role of the Bluetooth is to gather as much information from my head while I am at home then spread the information around media, people, communications as a way to push a program rather than create one.

The hand-off, are you kidding me?  At my front door, the light is to the right.  This man is busy, working.  Don’t bother him.  Still, it did make me laugh.

When we lived in Oldsmar we were so broke, I did not have a bed.  I slept on one of those fold-out chairs that turn into a foam mattress.  Like a glorified sleeping bag.

One morning I woke up to a noise that would not go away.  I finally figured out it was scratching.  Scratching at the wall.  When I looked I saw my cat Mimzi scratching and clawing at the wall.  When I looked further she was attacking a snake that had found its way into my room.

I got up.

I went to tell my mother, trying to figure out what to do who immediately went into her room and shut the door.

She was scared.  Terrified.  It took me a bit of time to figure out, she was scared.

I got a broom, I think, and took the snake of out the house.

I didn’t kill the snake.

I wasn’t scared or careful with the snake, I got it out is all.

It is not the first time either.

When we lived in Plant City I opened the front door to discover an Eastern Diamondback rattlesnake.  I told him to leave the premises at once.  Yep, I talked to the snake and told him/her to leave.  This snake looked at me.  A bit perturbed, then left.

I would find snake skins all over our yard, rat snakes were very common.  At the time I didn’t think much about it for a suburb it was somewhat country.  However, I wonder now if the wildlife was not placed in my yard by disapproving neighbors.

A constant in my life – surrounded by people who neither like, approve, believe, or care for me.

I am unable to keep track of what every person knows around me.  What the Bluetooth knows, what the surveillance knows, what my brother the spy knows, what my blog knows.

My mother was getting sick when we lived in Oldsmar.  Our apartment had a shared wall.  My mother believed they were selling drugs out of the apartment.  She called the cops who came to our apartment to speak to her.  Of course, the smell that was making my mother sick was not present when the cops showed up.

Two policepersons, one male, one female.  I remember the woman asking me about the smell asking me if it was pot.

I said, I don’t know.

She disbelieved me.  Her face, her whole body said every teen-ager knows the smell of pot.

Ahem, I am not from Florida.

I did not go to public high school in Florida, so no.  I did not know the smell of marijuana.  However, I have been to college in Florida, so now I know the smell of pot.

I have no idea why the Bluetooth and surveillance wants me to write about this.

The colors of the front doors are significant to those who created this complex.

They were wrong.

Is this true?  Someone from out-of-town with years of experience assessed me and placed me in this house with the shared front door rather than the model home which should have been mine?  I believe they mistook indifference with unknowing.

Caring what a person does for a living and knowing the kind of person they are – are different things.

I don’t understand why all this food now is bad.  Eating less than 1,000 calories a day and gaining weight, indigestion, bloating, terrible pain, and discomfort.

Recalling a conversation with my brother, I said to him, you like Steve Wheat, his manager at the time.  He answered truthfully saying yes.  But, who was Steve Wheat really?

Guesses?  I have a few.

Going back a second, the surveillance taken of my playing with the little ones which was later used as a puzzle piece, I can almost see.  They understood they had made a mistake.  However, it was too late to go back.  They had already set plans in place and could not undo the medical disinformation.

I can almost see how they were touched at my honest laughter, and joy I created in the children.  It is true.

They could see.

This is to say this is not the same as being able to have children and get prego/pregnant anymore.

People in charge who don’t understand what truly happened.

Is a solider or General the same in battle as they are when they return to their families?

Do you see the solider when they play with their children, babies, and little ones?

No, not always.

I must lie down now.

This bad food is killing me.  This bad soap is destroying my body.