3 Crackheads
December 3, 2020 1:28 am Leave your thoughtsI have crackheads on my mind today.
My car was broken into in April. It came right after a major personal drama and as my illness was subsiding for what would be a month and a half reprieve before it came back with a vengeance. I was playing a game right before, but was watching a youtube video and winding down for the night. I thought I heard the sound when you pull up the door handle on a car. I sat there for a moment, and then it became the way it usually does when you hear something…“did I really hear that?” and “Maybe it was a neighbour.” I stood up and turned on the light outside, the intention of going out there to see what’s up, but I put on pants (lol) and then just forgot about it. 
The next morning, I went outside and my car door was open. Technically, I guess it wasn’t broken into because obviously I’d left the car unlocked, so my stupidity was on my mind as I walked to the open door. There was stuff everywhere, all over the passenger’s seat. The glove compartment was hanging open, as were all the other drawers and things. All the loose change I keep for parking meters and midnight Macca’s runs was gone! :O And the middle console’s contents were strewn everywhere. I don’t own anything worth stealing. I didn’t have a cool sound system, mod cons or GPS or cameras. So they made off with about fifteen bucks in change and they had to touch my disgusting unwashed (probably) staphy jujitsu belt, novelty sunglasses, playbills, old socks and a few dirty bandages. Yes, I’m disgusting. It’s funny now though, isn’t it?
Turning on the light probably scared them off and nothing major happened in the car, just my junk food fund got stolen.
Fucking. Crackheads.
The neighbour of your dreams.
The worst part was the mosquitoes who moved in and didn’t disappear until I unleashed a smoke bomb of bug spray and sealed the doors. (Insert evil laugh here.)
My neighbour is a crackhead that’s not really a crackhead. I think he might have been a crackhead(?) and that’s why his brain is fried but I don’t think he takes any mind-altering substances at the moment. My friends know my plight. From hearing him talk to himself at all hours, touching himself, to pissing in his back courtyard, to hiding my bins so the garbage truck can’t take them, to him showering naked in his garden tap before my parents arrive for Christmas lunch…it’s been a horrifying adventure. And one no one seems to help with when I go through the appropriate channels to change it. Talking to this guy is a wild ride, he’s lucid when he’s engaged but when you’ve been talking for a few minutes, he starts repeating himself and goes off on strange tangents then brings up “spiritual boundaries” etc.
He’s told me once that no one cares if I live or die and then talked about women he’d known who had been sexually assaulted. What a joy to be around. I could dedicate reams of blog posts to this man alone.
The third crackhead I thought about is the one I met at VJ’s complex the other day. I parked my car and waited because it was raining. Then I had to rearrange a bunch of things in the trunk and on the passenger’s seat. I could feel someone’s eyes on me the whole time. I saw a guy in the background with his roller door up, standing inside his garage and talking on the phone. He was tall, crackhead-skinny, long hair tied up and sticking through the back of his stained cap. The complex has a massive driveway that runs between all the houses. I had to walk past him to head to VJ’s. He finished his phone call as I locked the car and started up the long driveway running alongside his property… I wasn’t sure exactly what he said first but I think it was “nice surprise, looking good, girl.” He asked how I was etc. I said hi back. Taking the great Joko Willink’s advice, when a crackhead is deliberately making eye contact/trying to get your attention, you can acknowledge them, let them know you’ve seen them and give them that small bit of attention they apparently want. Plus, I was still actively walking away. I gave a throwaway comment about the rain, how it’d been a nice day before I set out and now look (continuing my walk the whole time.) He said something about it still being a good day and then he said, “The day might not be looking good, but you sure are.”
*shudders*
I’m not an angry 3rd wave “feminist.” I literally don’t care if some idiot wants to whistle, yell out that I’m “hot” or even if he yells some dumb shit that will never happen, like to show him my boobs. This is Australia, the land of the yobs. Whatever, mate. In my personal experience, most guys will leave it at that, and it’s more about them trying to be outlandish for their friends or even to have a giggle to themselves. This guy seemed to be in that category, but also trying his luck. Maybe it’s worked on female crackheads before(?) and they were able to make beautiful crackhead music together, bang some sticks and infected needles on a glass pipe or something. Like a triangle.
The war on drugs should have been the war on mental illness, and maybe we wouldn’t have so many people walking around looking like we’re on set of The Walking Dead. Don’t even get me started on poppy fields and corruption on every level. There is also a level of personal responsibility. There are people who’d like to spend all day getting high and don’t, working on themselves instead. Whatever opinion you have on crackheads…They still exist. And they make life interesting…but they should leave me the fuck alone.
TLDR:
*My mind wandered to crackheads. That is all.
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