Serial Killers ♀︎
I have been hunted by a number of serial killers over the many years since jackaloping myself to hunt them in Los Angeles publicly.
It has become routine to admit that I have a fair sense of paranoia at most times for the simple sake of staying awake to the possibilities of being ambushed. It has happened too many times, and it is fair to say that have also had my C.I.A. and F.B.I. files inoculated enough to have a lent hand in those red line times.
The thing that stands out to most about my stay in Venice is that I had it all laid out in front of me in a way that is most preferable. That is to say that in L.A.’s off wizardry of talent and fame is found a revealing and uncomfortably relaxed nonchalance honesty about real life shit like being hunted as I am. People are more often than not pretty openly accepting of your circumstance, however not likely to be pro- actively participating, but then again, who would?
The fascinating and quite tragic thing about serial murderers is that they are so good at it, that in a community with crime the way it is these days in the U.S. , their kills get toe tagged to another suspect, and someone else heads off to the “big house”. Your above average hunter of these sorts will pawn off dozens of cases, all victims paid for in both blood and prison time by other citizens.
My close calls plague me as I know there is at least one still who I know who hunts me in spurts. I see her marks in the world around me, and I know she is close and knit into the community in some way in which I live. One of these days my local enemies run the gambut on being tagged for me. All the more reason to not disrupt my eco - system more than I need to. The less drunken ramblings in the wee hours in the backyard, the better. They are armament, but also testament in the parroted clips of commentary I catch later down the line so closely sewn to the “depth of my madness”.
I will not yet reveal the tallest tale of my many more than 9 lives, that is one for after the physics has been righted in its fullest. That night long ago that I walked from The Abbott Kinney Memorial Library, down to Ocean Front Walk to the Santa Monica Pier, and then down Olympic to 78th and Central, passing through the L.A. Downtown corridor at 3am on the boulevard of broken dreams.
I did not go unarmed, yet fate nearly took me from biological weaponry in the form of a drink had it not been for the powers that be taking 5 for me.
Backing far up here though, one night however I have not yet related is the night I spent under a bush.
They hunted me, and I talked about it openly as that was all that could be done.
Night came and I knew they were on the prowl, and I had nowhere to shelter at and hide away safely.
So I walked for miles and then rolled under the front hedge of a house.
Still they searched, and walked all about me for hours trying desperately to find me. I believe they killed another.
I now realize the weight of my words in the beginning here.
Perhaps that is all I should say.
God, may they rest in peace.
Got a comment? Write me at:
Comments
Post a Comment