So This Is How The World Will End: by Rick Castro 5/24/2020
I named my new Siamese Fighting fish,YASUKE, pronounced YAZ-K.
Actually my longtime dear friend Iris Parker named him. She’s very good with names, she named my first art gallery- Antebellum.
She named my infrared heater-Nour, and she named my victorian eyecup- Sebastien, so she’s very good with names. I named my two cats, Pyewackett, (black cat- RIP) and , Sympathy, (white cat- RIP), but she approved the names. Yasuke is named after the legend of the first black samurai. I brought him back to Bee’s cabin. He loves it and fits right in.
She named my infrared heater-Nour, and she named my victorian eyecup- Sebastien, so she’s very good with names. I named my two cats, Pyewackett, (black cat- RIP) and , Sympathy, (white cat- RIP), but she approved the names. Yasuke is named after the legend of the first black samurai. I brought him back to Bee’s cabin. He loves it and fits right in.
Well, the fan hit the shit…. I came back to Bee’s cabin after being in LA for about a week, looking forward to the calmness of the high desert. As I pull into the driveway, there is the car of my sister and her Christian- cult husband next door. Once again she didn’t text me to tell me she was coming. The only text I got from her was to ask what the results of my COVID19 test were, ( I’m clean!). As I’m unloading I notice chicken wire and tree stakes laying on the side. I walk over to my garden to find the cult-Christian husband had uprooted my olive tree and sunflowers, (this is something he’d done previously because he doesn’t want anything to grow and block “his” view). As you can image I was pissed off. I knew if I let it slide, it would progress to the chopping down of trees and anything he wanted to do. This was his way of showing me who’s the boss. I walked over to my sister’s cabin, knowing it wasn’t going to be a pleasant visit.
I walk up to my sister’s heavy screen door, slightly open it and say, “Hay Toby, (not his real name) I need to talk to you, could you step outside?. “Close the door, they both scream, the dog will get out!” I close the door and say once again, “Come out here, I need to talk to you.” “No! he screams. “Ok, I say, then I’ll come in and talk to you.” “Get the fuck out of MY cabin! If you come one step in I’m calling the police!” “Go ahead, I say. He runs outside red as a beet, “You get off of my property right now! Who knows what you’re bringing in! He wasn’t necessarily talking about the plague, (even though I just got a neg result) he’s referring to my hedonist gay-self. “you get outta of here right now! You’re not welcome on my property.” “It isn’t your property, I say. “You don’t own anything,.. you don’t have anything, you’re a lazy good for nothing, he screams… “You don’t know anything about me and what I do,” I say. “Yes I do! he gloats, your sister tells me!” She can’t tell you anything about me, because she doesn’t know anything I do.” I look directly at my sister as she lowers her head in slight shame… more like ashamed in getting caught. If you don’t get off “MY” property right now, I’m calling your brother.” “Go ahead I say. “Look, I say, even if my bro and I don’t get along, it doesn’t matter because we’re family.
All this time my sister has been silent, she now says, “That’s right. “Fuck you, you loser moron, you idiot, you don’t know how to take care of anything,” he continues to scream at me. “Before you come here and fuck up my family, maybe you should tend to yours,”
I say, referring to the known fact that both his daughters don’t talk to him. They refused to attend the wedding. With that he goes ballistic, lunging at me like a fat kid in a playground. We scuffle a bit and he looses his Croc. We then somehow fall against his car,
(I hope we left a dent) he tries to take a few pathetic swings at me. It’s all very sad. Somehow in the scuffle he looses his glasses.
I later realize he’s torn my Rick Owens t-shirt to shreds. Just like in the flicks. I look like Marlon Brando when he called for Stella, in Street Car Named Desire, but not buff.
All this time my sister has been silent, she now says, “That’s right. “Fuck you, you loser moron, you idiot, you don’t know how to take care of anything,” he continues to scream at me. “Before you come here and fuck up my family, maybe you should tend to yours,”
I say, referring to the known fact that both his daughters don’t talk to him. They refused to attend the wedding. With that he goes ballistic, lunging at me like a fat kid in a playground. We scuffle a bit and he looses his Croc. We then somehow fall against his car,
(I hope we left a dent) he tries to take a few pathetic swings at me. It’s all very sad. Somehow in the scuffle he looses his glasses.
I later realize he’s torn my Rick Owens t-shirt to shreds. Just like in the flicks. I look like Marlon Brando when he called for Stella, in Street Car Named Desire, but not buff.
He runs back inside and screams, “Suzy, (not her real name) I’m leaving right now. You decide if you’re coming with me!” “I have a car,” I calmly say. I’ll give you a ride home. I turn to my sister, “Suzy, what have you done? How could you bring someone like this into the family?” “It was only a potted soil he removed,” she meekly tries dismissing what he did. “Why are you making excuses for him?”
I ask. “I’m not,” she replies. “Does he do this to you?,” I ask. “Sometimes he gets mad,” she quietly says. How many red alarms have to go off for her to understand domestic violence is on the horizon. He hears what I’m saying to Suzy and yells from the cabin. “Suzy! You make a decision now! I’m leaving, are you coming with me? Suzy!” My sorry ass sister says, “You can’t drive without your glasses.” She starts to look for them. “Suzy I say to her, you hardly know him… Is this who he is?” He hears me and comes running out. “We’ve been together eight months! he screams. “Yah well try sixty-two years, I say referring to me knowing my sister my entire life. “He continues to hurl insults at me. Exhausted I sit down. “Get off of MY chair he wails.” I look at him with an oh paleeze look. He goes insane, GET OFF MY CHAIR!” He grabs the arm of the chair and forces me up. “You better watch your back,” he threatens. He runs back inside again. I turn to my sister, “How can you put up with this?” I say. “When he gets like this, the best thing to do is leave. He won’t calm down until you do” she says. He hears this and comes running out again, taunting me.” Get the fuck off my property.” This as I’m walking away. He acts like he’s gonna hit me from behind.” I turn around and he says, “don’t you touch me!” “Calm down I say, don’t you see I’m leaving.” As I’m walking away he shouts, “Don't ever come on MY property again!”
I ask. “I’m not,” she replies. “Does he do this to you?,” I ask. “Sometimes he gets mad,” she quietly says. How many red alarms have to go off for her to understand domestic violence is on the horizon. He hears what I’m saying to Suzy and yells from the cabin. “Suzy! You make a decision now! I’m leaving, are you coming with me? Suzy!” My sorry ass sister says, “You can’t drive without your glasses.” She starts to look for them. “Suzy I say to her, you hardly know him… Is this who he is?” He hears me and comes running out. “We’ve been together eight months! he screams. “Yah well try sixty-two years, I say referring to me knowing my sister my entire life. “He continues to hurl insults at me. Exhausted I sit down. “Get off of MY chair he wails.” I look at him with an oh paleeze look. He goes insane, GET OFF MY CHAIR!” He grabs the arm of the chair and forces me up. “You better watch your back,” he threatens. He runs back inside again. I turn to my sister, “How can you put up with this?” I say. “When he gets like this, the best thing to do is leave. He won’t calm down until you do” she says. He hears this and comes running out again, taunting me.” Get the fuck off my property.” This as I’m walking away. He acts like he’s gonna hit me from behind.” I turn around and he says, “don’t you touch me!” “Calm down I say, don’t you see I’m leaving.” As I’m walking away he shouts, “Don't ever come on MY property again!”
Everything I suspected about the Christian-cult marriage is true. My sister’s first husband died last year after a sixty-year bad marriage. She was dating this fool in less than a month after he was in the grave. They knew each other from church. BTW, one of those churches that raised $$ for the “Kill The Gays,” bill in Uganda a few years ago. They were married in four months or less. None of the family was invited to the wedding. The only reason I got invited is because she wanted photos. None of his family attended the wedding, except for his twin sister. His brother died that same day. Suzy spent her honeymoon telling her new husband his brother had died. This man has allot of issues and very-very-negative karma which he has now brought to my already dysfunctional family. It’s clear who will be the loser with all these manipulative control freaks in my life. I will have to be more like Yasuke.
So THIS is how the world will end.
copyright- rick castro- 5/2020
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