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Thursday, June 24, 2010

Banned From Playing Music At My Home!

My landlord tells me I am "banned from playing music, after 11:00 pm." Seems the two professional students, who play their video games, all night, and go to school by day, along with their their hostile host of ever-visiting friends, hiding behind their curtains; closed during the light of day, have plenty to say ...

"I don't really like Katherine, " is what the one complainer whom kept a large sign up on his window, for weeks, told my landlord. After attending a 2 hour gripe session, absolutely devoted to my landlord presiding over 2 different tenants he had specifically asked to come armed with their complaints about me, I was not beaten down. Merely aware of the little rats whom live in this inexpensive two storey and many stories .. walk-up. Not, just the wee mouse with the long, skinny tail, that we found scampering upon our kitchen floor, the other day.

Only cowards call their landlord over such trivial stuff as "zen music" that "plays over and over." Or "water dripping in my face" as I water my flowers. The litany of a libelous list was 5 pages as my son and I saw. That was just the guy downstairs who has been so afraid to speak to me for over a year. The peeking person who actually listens to my conversations in details and then, emails and phones 'the boss man' who does not even live in, to gripe over a ray of lght he does not know how to allow into his own lonely life.

The downstairs single mother, whom swore not to get involved in this fiasco, did attend and the landlord later commended, "that was very brave of M to do." She mentioned the word "blame" and "fault" more than once, before she had to finally, angrily,leave, to pick up her "hyperactive son," whom she claims throws furniture arund her apartment. After which a door was loudly slammed, in the heaviest-hearted manner, in an otherwise empty building, devoid of anyone else, other than a man whom a police officer once named as a "slum lord" and and a fearful young male neighbor whom is intimidated by this woman who speaks her voice.

A part of me is afraid to write of these going's on and the other part knows that I must. After all, I know much more about every one of these characters than they only wish they knew about me. I may just begin to exhibit some of the same insane and torturous signs and symptoms as them, if I hold in my truth; allowing it to become some sort of sordid mis-perception of a reality they choose to call their own private hell; whilst attempting to string up some innocent and absolutely unwilling 'victim' who looks great in a bikini at 50!

Why is living with love, homeschooling, raw food, and feeling, considered an "alternative lifestyle?" Those whom are poking their fingers, have the rest of their chewed - off nails, dirtied yellowed nails burrowing into their own bent and broken backs. With their unruly, addictive habits, deciets and self-denial, they project their putrid view of themselves upon the shiniest mirror that they ever may find fit to look upon, let along, look frearfully into ...

Communications skills are not the forte of any of these tenants and  my negligent landlord whom attended this injuction to injure. Even my sturdy hand holding a pen and writing upon trusted paper was viewed as incriminating evidence, if you can believe that. People are never over-shadowed by another ray of light, such as me. It is the fears people keep carefully locked away in their unhappy hearts that places them in such a perilous precicament of their own magical-less making. I am merely the target of their hidden wrath and object of their unrequited desires.

At least one of us knows the real deal. My landlord is the "money collector" who comes in to pick up the cash and never the "litter;" consisting of pizza boxes and chip bags that he accuses this raw, vegan family of dropping from our dining room windows. After 6 doors being knocked on, in order to place this incense burning good-witch upon a stake, merely 2 neighbors were rat enoug h to bring their cowardly selves over to complain. Guess I should consider myself blessed.

The unsmiling gaming student guy, even had the gall, a few days ago, to listen in on a conversation with a neighboring male. Mr. Unhappy had literally taken his precious time running - out, to write down verbatim, most of our casual conversation. Even stooping so low as to accuse me of saying some ignorant words, that I would never belittle anyone with ... let alone my loving self.

And, to top it all off, not that this is all .... I was told that I didn"t pay my rent, on time, this month, because I "contribute flowers  to the building." Well, why would someone sweet as heart as I know myself to so bravely be, continually fill the downstairs lobby and 2nd shared floor with fresh flowers, unless I am grateful to share my joy? I asked them this. No reply. Wonder why!

Even the "Do not disturb"  sign " that that irked full-timed stress-ball of a student, was brought to this attempt to massacre the "Amazing Mommy" meeting,meant to not only de-flower, yet, to completely unconsciously de-throne. A  partially ripped sign, that now reads "Do Disturb" was laying non-chalantly on the bothered boys lap. When I asked why this obviously ripped sign was brought to this Kangaroo court, I was looked at as if it was strange that I would bring this up. Wierd stuff. Something like some poorly directed re-run from a world run amuck with other peoples dis-satisfactions with themselves, and their gross attempts in attempting to intimidate another being of light who gets in their unadvernturous way.

Before signing off on this sad and sorry attack on me and mine, I am only able to wonder why that same beer can is planted with pride on that windowsill that sits beneath us, slightly above my gift of a mini-garden in the front yard that I am told I must no longer sunbathe upon. Even with that second recently torn-down sign that alerted the whole world about the raw icecream that had most probably accidently dripped onto the window below, I am feeling that a couple of lonely university students maybe play too many games and should go outside for a walk in the fresh air of a un-cluttered head.

And, to that single Mom who rudely exclaimed, "Even a person with half a brain cell knows ...", when discussing us loving her son, while she was asleep and we took her wee boy out for a night time bike ride, due to reasons I am too classy to mention upon the pages of this blog, I shall simply send human kindness. For Goddess knows that anyone who tells me, "Cut off all your hair," ,"You have lost so much muscle in your legs,", "Why don't you move?", along with the other eve's "I want your ass," before telling the landlord we are not allowed to see her son who merely wants to play, be loved, watered and fed wholesome food ... I send UNIVERSAL SUPPORT, LOVE AND COMPASSION.

Soon, I shall remove myself from this once peaceful abode that now seems to stand on its rightful own as a pergotary for the unpurged. We are not welcome and no one wins in a fight that only losers play.

I quit.

See you in the sunshine ....


Katherine Marion

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