It's raining, it's pouring, mad water drops are cascading from the sky and today would be a perfect day for that Stalkadillo. He could pitch a tent, a big orange sphere or globe or plastic canvas strobe or a yellow sphere or globe or plastic canvas strobe, up on the hillside since he's YELLOW and we could stare at each other all afternoon long. I'm on break and well, he doesn't or he didn't and perhaps he still doesn't seem to have anything better to do for years on endless end. He could dictate notes, frantically, obsessively, compulsively, on how I sit and when I shift and what I'm wearing and the fashion police crime of my hair and when I pick up the phone and how long I talk and how long I write and I could write about him watching me. It could be a real match in purgatory. Perhaps I could snap some more handy dandy generally useless pictures of him! Then I could scream BRAVO if he was courageous enough to pose for the camera! Perhaps I could be exceptionally generous and make up some flash cards to show him who I'm speaking to on the phone or provide snippets of my writing endeavors. He could read the flash cards through his binoculars. He could really feel like a MAN, a big guy, a true STUDMUFFIN, out there observing me. A peeping Tom peeping incessantly even in broad daylight beneath the storm. He could imagine that I'm really still terrified of him, that he hasn't burned me out, and that he's intimidating me still or he could imagine that his life is in great peril and that he's just sooooooooooo brave out there in his YELLOW globe with the tent flap open and swaying in the breeze so he can SEE ME. Wouldn't it just be a dandy moment to SEE ME even in the daylight, albeit overcast and mildly dull out there. Wouldn't it be simply stupendous to SEE ME in the daylight, to be so BRAVE, that I could SEE him too! He could even imagine that I'm writing about some vague munchausens plot instead of writing about reality. After all, all is riddles! NNNNNNNOT! And after all, I've got a riddle and I dared him to solve it! NNNNNNNOT! NEVER NEVER EVER, it did never and would never happen, but he could surely pretend! He could make it all so real in his mind. Oops, he's already seemed to do that! It could be super exciting for him. He could stalk and I could watch him while he stalks out there in his YELLOW globe. And just to think of all those terrific fantasies he could be having out there in his YELLOW globe. He could even dream about how that fantasy death threat artist is on its way and then pat himself heartily on the back for being such a big strong MAN for staying out there ever faithful to his own mental stalking illness in his YELLOW globe. Maybe his family members can hike out there and bring him meals and water and liquor and they could all sit in the YELLOW globe and watch me. I'm not trying to say that his family members are YELOW, because I don't know, but I suppose they'd have to use whatever cover that Stalkadillo erected out there. Everyone needs to stay out of the rain! They could alllllllll take careful inventory of everything they SEE of me through that Stalkadillo's binoculars, like the significance of what color clothes I'm wearing or how many cups of coffee I drink or my hand gestures, and whatnot. If I flip that Stalkadillo the bird finger he can sue me for being mean to him! And if he had his camera handy he could photograph me flipping him off! He could say it was child pornography even though that Stalkadillo is not a child or he could say it was a munchausens flipping bird finger. Surely those crimes are enough for a chop sue-eeey lawsuit. After all I frequently appall the fashion police and we all know coffee is bad for us and well, flipping people off with the improper finger isn't very polite or friendly. It's called munchausens by adult coffee consumption and improper flipping bird fingers. Ah, today would be a perfect day but then that YELLOW globe resides in the Stalkadillo's head and he's just too YELLOW to dare put an outer globe out for me to SEE in broad daylight beneath the storm. It is surely true that the Stalkadillo doesn't like to be called YELLOW or anything else I see as the reality of the situation at hand, it makes that Stalkadillo very-very MAD. He seems to seethe and seethe and spew out nefarious fumes of additional destructions. Which is strange, so very strange to me. He would've never been labeled YELLOW if he hadn't acted so YELLOW with his fixations on Easy Pickens. He would've never been labeled a Stalkadillo if he hadn't stalked and stalked and stalked. Oh well, there's just nothing I can do about a Stalkadillo's delusions over reality. Thus I can only say, it's raining, it's pouring, mad water drops are cascading from the sky and today would be a perfect day for that Stalkadillo. He could pitch a tent, a big orange sphere or globe or plastic canvas strobe or a yellow sphere or globe or plastic canvas strobe, up on the hillside since he's YELLOW and we could stare at each other all afternoon long. I'm on break and well, he doesn't or he didn't and perhaps he still doesn't seem to have anything better to do for years on endless end. He could dictate notes, frantically, obsessively, compulsively, on how I sit and when I shift and what I'm wearing and the fashion police crime of my hair and when I pick up the phone and how long I talk and how long I write and I could write about him watching me. It could be a real match in purgatory. Perhaps I could snap some more handy dandy generally useless pictures of him! Perhaps I could be exceptionally generous and make up some flash cards to show him who I'm speaking to on the phone or provide snippets of my writing endeavors. He read the flash cars through his binoculars. He could really feel like a MAN, a big guy, a true STUDMUFFIN, out there observing me. A peeping Tom peeping incessantly even in broad daylight beneath the storm. He could imagine so many crazy-crazy things.
By Lady Lost
Copyright � 2002
All rights reserved.
Library of Congress Copyright
International Copyright
No rights to copy, print, download, duplicate, or display elsewhere other than this specific website granted or implied without the direct written permission of the author. Please contact agent of the author: Mr. Gunther S. Vanludwick at [email protected]
**As with all poetry, essays, correspondence and/or published letters, e-mails or other communications presented on this webpage, this work is a personal subjective expression of its author's own feelings, thoughts, beliefs, and opinions. This statement is in no way intended to invalidate or minimize the powerful and poignant experiences of this author. However, this statement is intended to indicate that creative expressions such as these written forms of artwork are derived from their author's own personal feelings, thoughts, beliefs and opinions. **Both Lady Lost, myself and all others involved strongly discourage victims of stalking and other crimes of domestic terrorism from becoming lax in their security measures or regarding their perpetrator(s) as too cowardly to alter the familiar mode of operations at any moment towards personal aggression. We encourage all victims to remain on the alert for circumstances of extreme personal danger advancing from their perpetrator. This website is not designed to provide legal or psychiatric services to either victims or perpetrators. Please seek the services of a professional in the required field if such services are needed. **No work within this website is intended to serve as any form of invitation to the alleged perpetrator. **This particular work is a work of pure sarcasm.
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