pandalicious's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Picture Picture, Evil Boy He left this camera in my trunk. It's been there for months. He called me a dumb bitch for the last time. I'm keeping it. I was going to pawn it off, but it's a Pentax and I've always wanted one of those. =) Upon uncasing the cam, packs of photos were revealed to us. Mostly shots of where the 'professional photographer Michael Coombs' had unsuccessfully shot roll after roll of a band playing at Starbucks, where you can only see a hint of an actual band member and off in the great distance, a Chevron sign illustrates the sad notion that gasoline was in fact only 77 cents a gallon just a year and a half ago. There were random pictures of random people at Christmastime scattered throughout... and honestly the only thing I could think was that these people were unfortunate enough to have to tolerate him for even one day. Their smiles are almost uncomfortable, you can feel the dis-ease in the air. Three self-portraits. Two look very thuggish. I mean, well, one of them is a total profile mug-shot style, purely by accident. I envision this picture is pasted somewhere in a post office "WANTED" for general crimes against nature, people, the world... The second of the thug pix isn't so mug-shottish. It's just him looking mean. It's not such a bad picture, really, if you didn't know the evil that really exists behind that menacing glance, you would maybe think that someone just didn't want their picture taken. But that evil is real. The third in this series is him with his 'loveable grin'... I say this in quotes because from hours and hours of watching him ape in the mirror, I've seen that countless times. It's insincere but again, you could be fooled. I hate him. I didn't even mention this :: he called me Friday. Just to talk. He failed to apologize for the last conversation, where he called me a dumb bitch and ending up hanging up on me. Nope. He's forgotten it. But he did get stabbed. Someone tried to mug him. They stabbed him, but believe it or not, folks, quick-on-his-feet Michael Coombs got out his trusty SWISS ARMY KNIFE and fucked that fucker up. You best believe that shit. Ahh. Anyway. So there were also these old pix of him in there. Favorite childhood prints, just reprinted. There are a few of him playing soccer, two of him and some girl goofing off. He's got on an ET shirt. (ooh!) There are 2 of him sitting in front of a liquor cabinet with big grins on his face both times. So... when did he get this fucked up? Was it always so sick inside? Are we looking at a little crumbled ball of red, hot, wrong energy? Was he a difficult child. Was he ALWAYS so FUCKED IN THE HEAD????????? Because he is now. It's strange to see little E.T. shirt boy THEN and in my head he's grown and sloshing beer all over my floor and threatening to punch me in the face because I want to use my computer or my phone... Can evil be born? I think it can. 18:29:32 - October 15th, 2K :: 2:30pm ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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