SLIVER
I’ve gone my 1st round pointing out the six mistakes. In the bag you think, your job is done. I’ts not, nor will it ever be. I feel like this middle guy and I didn’t ask for the job. And for the life of me, I can’t remember where it started. I just know that it was a pivotal time. I also know and have learned how smart and intelligent I really am even if my grades in high school stunk because I chose not to show up. I finally said show me something. After it’s all said and done, it’s not. I climb my way out of hole after hole demanding validation. I battle to get my credit above the poverty poor needle to be forced to go back to where it all started from. A parking violation comes in the mail after the Mercedes had all ready been sold with my name on the citations asking for $800.00 in fines that aren’t mine. They still come after me for those credit cards after I’ve demanded validation and fought to get the old ones off my credit score. Up the needle moves a mm or cm, which ever out of the two is the least. I think to myself, wow my husband must be something to get away with so much. He did his very own prescribed burn in the backyard where the whole block looked like a smoke pit. You would of thought he would have gotten a ticket or something. He didn’t, just a warning. Had it been me they would have thought, man she’s crazy and then probably a ticket would follow. Here we are in the 21st century and it seems as though as if a woman were to be self made she’d surely have to be branded 1st. Makes sense, I get it. I just don’t get the ownership title part when you know who’s the better citizen, so I think. I’m only using the husband as an example because he’s all I’ve had the chance to really know, for way to many years than I’d like to admit. And that is if you look at his work history, how many times he’s driven drunk, how many times he’s late on consecutive monthly payments, and how many times he’s gone out to play, while I say nothing and he says nothing. Every six months I blew up after staying quiet, when in the beginning of the marriage it happened once a year. Then the blowups were like birth pangs happening closer and closer till I was this mad woman, that I myself did not recognize. I also think, if they would just leave me alone I could work on on those different segments of books I’ve got stored away in my mind. And I can’t because I am too worried about how I’m going to make some money after the husband left me with nothing because he worked under the radar. Almost, and I say almost as long as we’ve been married. Still, you hustle while being on strings… or carrots. I still can’t decide as to which? If only he was more responsible I think, if only he talked more about a future together instead of just say nothing. After all, I did pick up a writing habit and happen to love words, and also reading them from a vast variety of people. I shake my head knowing how badly I chose in a companionship just for the sake of getting away from chaos, known as my previous home where I lived with my then parents. I wished I had been less picky, or more picky… I still can’t decide as to which? I know friends who are in there 3rd or 4th relationship after it was over with their significant others while I couldn’t muster up 1 man after 5 years of it being over with mine. I just know I wasn’t the type to need a boyfriend growing up so I’ve chalked it up to that. Self made… self made, where is my self made? I once thought of being an escort to where I actually looked for jobs doing it. All this coming from a girl that couldn’t see herself stripping on some sweaty dance pole because I didn’t want one of my fathers friends to see me up there baring my ta ta’s, while having men stuff money in my barley there panties or bathing suit bottoms. Now that he’s passed on I am almost sure I’d get naked on a movie screen, rolls and all. I kind of feel like I am in this weird movie where all the tenants are getting spied on in an apartment building, anyway. ”Sliver”, ooohhh yeah, that’s what the movie is called.
