I'm having one of those nights tonight. I just went on Youtube and listened to old 90's rock at full blast. The kind you wear black clothes, Dr. Martens and red lips to. Supernaut, Black Hole Sun, Been Caught Stealing, Pixies, Lou Reed, etc. It felt good to listen to Rage Against the Machine and feel the defiance in Zach's voice. The big 'Fuck You, man'. I feel that and I've never out grown it, like most adults have. Perhaps a lack of maturity and responsibility on my part. I don't deny it; I'm well aware of my faults. Clarity is a double edged sword. So is hindsight.
About a month ago, I was in dire straights again. It was painful, scary and humbling. Explaining to the boyfriend the years of harassement from running for mayor. I threatened the drug dealers in my neighborhood, watched the grow-ops, vowed to try and save every vulnerable person in the city, namely the homeless getting beat up by cops, save kids from abusive situations, etc. I showed up at strip joints and took notes, talked to the sketchiest people out there, I was a moron. I thought I could save the city. I helped start a block watch in our block. Watched cars and drop offs, tried to stop the robberies in the hood, whatever I could to try and stop crime. I was hell bent on it. There had to be some way to save at least one more child from getting hurt out there. And in my eyes, it started and ended with crime. Get to the source and only then will you save the young ones from getting hurt. I had heard enough and done enough around the city to make a prostitute blush.
Over the years, I'd had sex with a big drug dealer's son, went to another drug dealer's wedding, called up Hell's Angel's clubs, whatever I could think of to get under their skin. I noticed traffic patterns, and started to see cycles repeated each day. And the stories people told me were straight out of a hollywood novel. I even wrote to a guy down in Mexico to try and connect him with someone up here that I thought I could sting him with. Fucking crazy woman I am, in so many ways.
I was drawn to it in the end. It consumed me day and night. Every person was a potential criminal waiting to hurt the city. I began to get followed. People passed by me, threatening me to watch out and not get hurt now. But I did not relent. I figured my life wasn't worth living anyways, being bipolar, I would sacrifice myself. It was kind of crazy. I dog walked in the neighborhood and couldn't help myself from scanning everyone and everything.
Then, of course I ran for Mayor of Vancouver. I wanted to save the homeless and legalize pot. Take the power away from the drug dealers. Treat it like cigarettes. Smoked in certain areas, taxed, etc. Pot is currency in this provice. It is used to buy guns, girls, coke, and just about everything you can imagine or not want to imagine. So when you say, pot is harmless, I say, perhaps, but the way it is used now, it is a very, very dangerous tool and fuels all levels of crime in this province.
Somehow, I got a whole lot of attention on a scale that I wasn't expecting. I also became manic high and crashed, hard. I still remember a cop who shall remain nameless, snickering at my bedside while I was in my skivies in the hospital. It's hard. I still see him around the hood sneering at me, sometimes. It's creepy.
But to be honest, it has never really ended for me. For ten years, I have been harrassed in so many ways that I have lost count; crank called, bike vandalized for years wherever I parked it, even hit by a car by a guy I was not comfortable with. The police didn't believe his story. I no longer want to be miss police woman, but that is what I am tagged with. I've had people tell me they were paid to follow me, I have come home to my door unlocked more times than I can remember. And I've got three locks. I've had people try my door when I am even home; someone break in through the roommate's window in the middle of the night and leave the door open at 1am. I"ve had people walk by me and tell me I deserve it all. I've been called every name in the book by perfect strangers. In stores, on a bus, in the street. Everywhere. And when people say that crime is organized, I say yes, it is very, very organized. And I no longer concieve of stopping any of it. It is big, large and everywhere. From the very bottom of society, to the very richest living in the top of the Hyatt watching the ships come into the harbour with their drug supplies and human trafficking. It is so very organized. And we don't have a chance.
So what is my point? Choose your battles very wisely. Ask yourself if you have the reserve to ever win, or to ever feel completely safe again. If I could do it over again, I would not have run for mayor. I would not have made ripples. I would not have the fame. I would not have the people know who I am wherever I go. Because some days, it turns me into a basket case. And I just don't know how to cope sometimes. Or who to trust. Tonight is one of those nights. I blast the music and reflect on the mess I have created, raging in my room, in the corners of my own mind. And hope for a better day tomorrow.
Anyways, just a little food for thought.
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