In the West O

and what!? what the fuck is supposed to happen? what the fuck are we supposed to be? I am so scared right now...i fucking hate this place. I hate this place we call fucking earth, this place we call home. I hate people. I hate that people hurt other people, that they kill them, that we have movies that are all about torture and fear and we are entertained by this. i don't even know what to do with myself. I don't know if i want to cry or scream. If i want to stand tall or cower and hide. I had a guy ask me where i got my shoes. then try and convince me over the course of a very long five minutes to take my shoe off. now if a big black guy with grill and a fucking stocking hat in a very nice new pick up truck at midnight asked you to take of your shoe...what would you do? Fucking right. run. I did that. In as much as i am proud of myself for getting the fuck out of the situation it was six minutes too late. what was his right hand doing? reaching for a gun? jerking off? who the fuck knows. To his own point, if he had wanted to do something to me, he would have. He would have bashed me...but what if that wasn't his style? WHAT THE FUCK? WTF? wtf? what the fuck? I can think of the million things that i did "wrong" the fucking million things that I shouldn't have done, the half dozen things that I could of done, topping the list with uh, fucking RIDE...RUN...get the fuck out of dodge. Why explain to him that I'm all fucking bent out of shape because we are in fucking west oakland. uh, duh. he knows where the fuck he is. why the fuck did he want me to take my shoe off...i think that's why i stuck around for so long...if that is his method, to stun, then he fucking made his mark but he failed to fucking deliver. I'm stupid, 1. I smiled to much, 2. I do that when i'm scared, nervous, uncomfortable or happy...hmmm, ok. I gotta say, I'm so fucking happy I'm not dead I truly was expecting to know what it feels like to have a bullet in flesh. truly. yes. wow. dumb. scared. i didn't have any money. 3. i couldn't think of anything 4. deer in headlights 5. i know exactly what dude looks like 6. license plate? no. make? no. black. late 20's early 30s. camo jacket. net hair douche bag skull thing. grill. rounder face. maybe 5'10, 6'. silver truck. great. 65% of oakland. 75% of california. fuck. i'm out. rode for my life. out. home. done.dumb as fuck comes to mind. not dead also comes to mind, since i still have one. perv? killer? normal dude that has a way of fucking scaring the living shit out of fucking white girls on bikes? yes. and now i'm left wondering. do we even know what to do? is it just me that's retarded? could we handle it? could we really be that protagonist from saw? would we fight back? we'd want to and we know exactly how we want to be, except when we're there. and then you know what? we're fucking stuck with who the fuck we are. and we do stupid fucking shit. we are stupid. i am stupid. i am alive. unscathed. scared and finding this all a little too fucking real.