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- Author: Anna N. Schnieden
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My job was babysitting their 2 daughters. He was kind to pay me, but I told him that the trip was a payment. I got a chance to see New Zealand…a bit, as I promised Mr. Ok, “As far as you can go.” Very nice place, it is quite similar to Australia except it is colder, and they told me some parts of the country have snow. So…cool. We were there for 6 days; Mrs. Book’s father had passed away. Everyone was busy with the funeral and I was busy scaring the girls.
I had done my research and was going to wait until graduation day, but Moonlight wanted to dedicate herself to saving the world. I wanted to see her before she left, so I asked my professors and they understood that my mother did not have much time to live…He he…so they agreed to send my graduate certification later…Super!
Before I left Australia, there was one place I had to go. It was something to do with Mr. Cross, my friend who is in hell, helping Lucifer manage…hell.
Opera…hmmm not the OCD one, but the Opera House or the Australian Opera Company, was formed in 1956 in Sydney under the auspices of the Australian Elizabethan Theatre Trust. It commemorated the Mozart bicentenary by presenting four Mozart operas in all capital cities. Opera Australia is the principal opera company in Australia. Based in Sydney, its performance season at the Sydney Opera
House accompanied by the Australian Opera and Ballet Orchestra runs for approximately eight months of the year, with the remainder of its time spent in the Arts Centre Melbourne, where it is accompanied by Orchestra Victoria. In 2004, the company gave 226 performances in its subscription season…awesome!
After the show, I was sitting outside behind the theater, having a coffee and putting some cancer into my lungs, listening to The Who’s “Behind Blue Eyes.” Because of Mr. Cross, I had learnt to listen to music in an artist’s way, to understand music instruments, the lyrics, the rhythms, and how each sound makes differences. Something
about me… my music made many people feel…stultifyingly bored! I put people in my path into songs, each one has their own…shit and characters, I also add more songs from their favours…if I like the songs. It is like I was building a concert hall of memories for my friends, and when I miss them, all I have to do is listen. Thank goodness, no one liked hip-hop, oh, don’t get it wrong, I mean, I don’t understand the rhythms, I tried with Mr. Cross once, but unsuccessful…Sorry. As promised, Mr.
Cross! Opera house!!
Back again to Chiang Mai; we sold our apartment, needed money for Moonlight’s adventures. Even though they paid Moonlight’s income, saving the world was not a group of rich bitches. Actually, she did not need money, because everywhere she went, she ate shit and slept in a camp with wars and sick people, but I told her just in case she needed to run…fast. Her last mission was taking care of babies, born of shits like us, and it made her very happy. Moonlight always wanted to be something that means something good. At first, she did not want to go when she knew that the contract was 5 years, she was worried about me, but…
“Hey, I’m not a bloody kid. I can look after myself. Chick!” Me.
“More like crazy by yourself! Besides, who is going to be with you when your brain- space residents are gone mad? I don’t want to see you becoming a celebrity on FBI MOST WANTED!!” Moonlight.
“Hey bitch! I’m not a psychopath. Hmm, second thought, don’t you think it’d be cool, having your picture on worldwide television? It’s another way of being famous! I guess that’s why we have more and more killers. OK, serious shit time. Go and do what you want to do, I love you and we’re always in the shits together, not matter what the fuck happens, right? This one is a good fuck and we have email, yahoo, and camera now.
THANKS ALL MR. MS. AND MRS. SCIENTISTS!! Don’t make me kill
myself!...Please.” Me.
“Well, we still have some time together hmm…” Moonlight.
“Ahmm…we’ve time together for what…20 years now hello. Do you think our marriage is the very last? Hey, Moony, if you end up dead in the process, can you wait for me? I don’t want to miss a thing.” Me.
“Absolutely, no way, I’ll walk on the other side alone. Seriously, what if I meet someone; dead by a truck and look like a cheap can after…dead. I’ll be dead all over again!” Moonlight.
“HAAAAAA. Really Moony, I’ll be fine, I want you to find your happiness, for once in our lives…we deserve it!” Me.
“What about yours? Do you know, yet?” Moonlight.
“Yes, it’s you. I don’t need you to be with me. As long as I know you are happy…no shit. Have you ever been curious why I don’t have a distinct sequence of nucleotides forming part of…FEAR? Because I know you will go to hell with me…you are my shield!
“Hmm…I don’t know what are you talking about…dizzy, I’m not Joshy… are you sure…about the…hell? Ahmm…tell me one thing, chick’s head. How the fuck are you going to be safe, when your fucking shield is too far from you?” Moonlight.
“Oh, hmmm…like the shit monk’s buffalo spirit…remember?” Me.
“Ahuh, you will probably be dead soon then! Moonlight.
It was about 5 months before Moonlight’s leaving; doctor Joshy was back, helping at the border between Thailand and Cambodia. We went to see Joshy and when Joshy had time off, he visited us; I still had my forest house because the wife of the officer liked me, they did not let others rent it. We had a very good time…me, Moonlight, and Joshy.
After everyone was gone, I heard the echo of silence inside my Wernicke, I never felt like that before. I decided to go to Europe, as I had been invited, Austria, Switzerland, Italy, Germany, Netherlands, England, and the Czech Republic. I met Moonlight and Joshy twice in Europe on their missions, it was not long, but nothing really mattered as long as we had each other. After 7 months, I went back to Thailand, worked about 2 years, then let’s say, dumb and lucky both, I went to North American countries, America, Canada, and unwillingly…The Dominican Republic.
Sometimes…even someone from nothing like me could not say no…had to go…like I said, dumb and lucky. When I had to go to Japan, China, Myanmar, and Indonesia unwillingly, it was for work…forced, but not like the Dominican Republic, that was more like “If you don't go, you're a fucking…slut or bitch…pick one, but if you go, you’re not welcome.” And it did not cooperate well with my PTSD.
Actually, when I really…am; travelling and meeting different human…lives from the strictly biological point of view were cool…and it was some kind of a major study for me. I was waiting for my connecting flight to Austria, in Beijing, looking at airplanes through a glass wall…something was very unconventional, kicked my eyeballs. It was a giant board, advertising drinking water! On the board's picture was a young pretty Chinese girl, half naked and half of her body was in the pool of natural envelopment with a tiny waterfall. It was a very nice-looking picture…really, more importantly, “No drinking there would be the best safe way!”
In China, it was alright, if you like the smell…wasted or spoiled food along with other refuse, then it is ok to go. I did not have much time, only on a work mission. In Chiang Mai, we had a problem with Chinese tourists because they did not like bathroom, they liked doing…urine on some fences or blocks…by all means men and…women! I was told some Chinese tourists defecated on a wall in the middle of Chiang Mai city. I had to admit, that was beyond imagination for a vacation to me.
In Austria…where Mr. Adolf Hitler was born (the killer of…hellfire!) I was living with my second…hmm ex-fiancé…for some time! There were his grandparents, his mother, his half-brother, his 2 uncles, and an aunt. He also had a half-sister in Vienna…I went to visit her once. The town I lived in was Salzburg, where The Sound of Music was filmed. The people I was acquainted with were nice to very nice…hmm just
different from Australians’ way. I loved his grandmother, she was extremely kind and the most generous person I have never met. She was 80 years old and almost unsighted, but she liked cooking and making me…eat. She used a huge magnifying glass, looking at the food when she was cooking. And she liked to take me to nice restaurants very often, even after I told her No!
Actually, I had very limited conversations with the folks because only Mr. Ex, my fiancé, Mr. C, Mr. Ex’s young half-brother, and Mr. Ex’s mother could speak English. However, I could only talk to Mr. Ex’s mother between 7:00 and 9:50 am, after that she would not talk to anyone except Mr. Scotch Whisky or Mr. Vodka, and Mr. C was 21 years old with a lot of 21-year-old friends. Although they could not speak English, they liked to call me, especially Mr. Ex’s grandfather. He called me in the morning, before lunch, and before dinner, and if Mr. Ex came home late from work, he gave Mr. Ex shit…on the phone! The conversation between grandpa and me was,
“Hello, Papa. Good?” Me.
“Ja. You? Good?” Grandpa.
“Ja. Danken. Papa.” Me.
“Eat? You eat?” Grandpa.
“Yes, Papa. Danken.” Me.
Just like that, every single day. He was a good man and he liked to take me to the mountains! He was in World War II as a mechanic, but at the time I met him he was already retired. The family members were pretty close they got together every Saturday from late morning until whenever felt like bedtime at the grandparents’ place. We were a party…happy, big family! By 11:00 am, everyone was already in the level of uplift feeling, effectively by whatever individual personal approval. Mr. C and I smoked weed, the rest drank beer or whisky.
Outside Mr. Ex’s family was the same; people seemed to like me even if we could not communicate! Once, a policeman was trying to point me in the direction of a street with everything he could, telling me where the hell a German language school was, but my doll’s head could not get to the interpretations. First, I thought he meant…snake? Oh, no, fire? Oh, dolphin’s jump? He ended the conversation and took me to the school. Language problem!
My German teacher was a lady who seemed to be a happy woman until I had to say a word in German so, “Fotze” (cunt)…instead of…“Fuße” (feet)…to her! She said that I was going to kill her with laughter. The shit is, I had the same…problem with the English too. When I had an English piano teacher, the first thing about the piano is the piano bars, and they are E F G A B C D E F on both hands playing. She was teaching me how to remember them…like a shortcut. She tapped her fingers on every other bar and said, “Every good boy deserves fudge.”…no problem to me, “Every good boy deserves fuck.” So, she quit! Oh, did I say something wrong?
When Moonlight and I were in London, England, we had a policeman…on a horse, helping us out with an….F word problem…and it was not me! It was 3 shitheads, talking like no one missed “Fucking American Tourists,” and that was what disturbed Moonlight’s PTSD! “And what the fuck are you?”…she said…hmmm…that was why the police-horseman came and he was very nice to give us his number, in case we needed help, but we did not have any more problem, so, thank you again, Officer! The British people were nice to super nice, the museums were extraordinary! I love the Victoria & Albert Museum…the restaurant, which
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