STRIP JOINT

  January 3rd, 2011 

"It occurs to me, then, that people themselves are full of tunnels: winding, dark spaces and caverns; impossible  to know all the places inside of them. Impossible even to imagine."

I am a tunnel. I’m made up of winding, dark spaces and caverns. Yes, it is impossible to know all the places inside of someone, I don’t even know all of the places inside of myself. Most of those places are probably good. For some reason, evil  always prevails over the good.  My life was a disaster. I sat in his car with a white-knuckled grip on the steering  wheel, I watched the rain pound against the windshield. It was a pursuit, I  had just fled from a fleet of cops, the scene of a crime I had committed.  

I took off in the truck, full speed through the gated community, passing six  cop cars pulling into the community. First traffic light I saw turned right, swung  into a parking lot, parked the truck and took off on foot. I could hear the sirens in  the distance. I ducked behind an air-conditioning unit, directly behind Safeway. A  police car drove by slowly, I was ready to surrender, put my hands up. The police  car light shined into the darkness, my heart was beating out of my chest. I froze,  stood ever so still. I remember praying, I will change. I promise. Please I will stop  all this... the drugs, the abuse, the violence, Shannon... Pleading for my life yet I  was a liar. 

I was soaked to the skin, my skirt was ripped and blood seeped from both of  my knees. I sat hunched behind the air conditioning unit for what seemed like an  eternity. Ripped black skirt and my red lacy bra. I had taken off my shirt, after  Shannon had poured a gallon of muriatic over my head. I had thought I’d go blind for sure. My adrenaline had kicked in and I was going to fight for my life. There  were scratches on my arms, neck and my face burning, red and blotchy from the  hysterical crying.

Along with the external wounds, I’d lost a good deal of my sensibilities, most of my faith in mankind, and my underwear somewhere between a  graveyard and a church parking lot.

I’ll explain later.

It's been a hell of a night and  if God has any mercy, he’ll strike me with lightning and end it all. 

Desperation leads to all kinds of things that will haunt a person come Judgement day- like stripping to my skivvies in front of men who are as desperate as I  am. The beat of the music coursed through my body as I twirled and gyrated.  The lights baked my skin and sweat poured down my face. 

STRIP.