Anti-Social

Every so often I sit down and try to think about how I'm perceived by the rest of the world. This is not something that I normally worry about, at all.
I am antisocial in most of my personal philosophies, so worrying about what other people think is very low on my list of things to do.
So I sat here for a good 30 minutes, thinking about what kind of a person I was,
and it's bizarrely horrifying this go around.
I'm dark, I'm cynical, I'm sarcastic. I'm morbidly curious. I'm lacking of any religion. I'm strangely not squeamish about sex at all. I've got a cold, analytical view of what it means to be a person. I've rewired my brain to strive to meet the goals of my personal philosophies.

I like the dark, I like the silence of the outdoors-which is not silent at all.

For as long as I can remember, stalking about the streets and bike paths at night has been a large part of my identity. Getting out into the world at 2 or 3 in the morning, and existing under the sky, existing with silence at night, is something that I come back to time and time again. Nature walks at night, but also night walks in the city. Slowly walking by ominous allies, turning down sketchy roads, creeping along a completely unlit sidewalk or bike path. I like the crunchy way that the dirt feels under my sneakers on the side of the road, where the scraggly grass refuses to completely die, but is a very dull version of itself. I like bumping into possums and raccoons, and staring at them for hours.I like the way wet grass feels, the way the dirt smells, the way the wind blows. Darkness feels safe. It feels like a blanket around me, it makes me feel closer to the world. Like the night is giving me a hug. Like I could fade away into the universe and no one would ever find me.

an anti-social creature that slinks around the streets at night.

What am I?

Every time I eat

Every time I eat, there is around half of an hour that I spend afterwards wondering if this is it...Wondering if this time, the chicken was cooked wrong, and the pathogens that grew within are strong enough to kill me.

Foodbourne illness.

I was in a food safety course, and the teacher told us so calmly how one can of botulism filled tuna killed 3 people.

Why?

To ruin any sense of safety that I had.

Is it food, or poison? Food? Poison?

Which one...

"Close your eyes and dream"

Last night I had a dream that we were running away. I was very ill, and every time I went to sleep I knew I could stop breathing. You watched me while I slept to make sure that I was okay. I woke up from bouts of agony to find your eyes watching me, sweetly.

We were hiding under a giant tree's roots, on the beach. It was sunny. Everything had a bright, beautiful, sparkling halo around it, and I wondered if that was just because my brain was full of the strange chemicals that come with dying.

I looked out to the shore and Puppy was there, sprinting up and down alongside the glittering waves. I WAS SO PISSED. She was wearing her fancy white crochet mittens, and they were getting all muddy.

2016

It's been four years and I've limited my time in downtown Santa Barbara for obvious reasons.

No more McChickens.

Hey, little girl,
you can call me Stockholm.
you can throw away your friends
you can lose your cellphone
cause you're going to be mine
for a long, long time.

Do you love me now?
You're gunna miss me if I leave
and if you do escape
you'll come back lookin for me.


Hey little girlie
you can call me Stockholm
you can run away from me
you can find your way home
but you don't
you can't
you can't
you wont.

And years from now
way down the road
will you realize
that your love is a load of crap?
will you snap?

Oh no no
 

Tree bark makes the McChicken taste better.

Today I was on my way to Mcdonalds when a 30-something year old homeless looking man stopped me.
"You want a bite to eat?"
"Uh, I was actually on my way to mcdonalds."
"You want me to help you out with it?"
Now, this is the part I don't quite understand. I was wearing dress shoes and bow tie. Why would I need someone to help me out with food?
The other possibility is that he was being chivalrous, which is harder to believe than him thinking I was homeless.
Well, I declined and he introduced himself.
Being the old fashioned Man-lady I am I said,
"Hello, I'm Savannah Chase." and took his hand to shake it.

This is the odd part.

He took my hand and then brought it to his face (Where he almost burned me with the cigarette in his mouth before removing it) and KISSED IT.
Oh god, some weirdo I don't even know kissed my hand.
I rushed off after some sort of goodbye and proceeded to scrape the back of my hand on the bark of a tree uttering,
"UGHHH. EEHHH. BLEEEECCHHH."
Until I realized I probably looked insane.

Then I went and ate a McChicken.