Such was the way in this year of many changes; I had to move from house to house, and room to room, so many times in the span of one year, I still can’t figure out just how it all was sequenced. I only wish I’d known then what I know now; knowing this hellish roller-coaster was coming would have made a lot of difference. It still would have sucked, but at least I would have felt there was a more certain positive outcome from it.
2011 felt like a whole year of “out of the frying pan and into the fire”, and I had no idea at the time why; what was going on was the 13-section cycle of 20-day intervals, each one yanking me to another house, another part of the city I was in, and another part of the world; Plano for 20 days or so, Frisco for another 20, another side of Frisco for 20, then Dallas on and off for 20, then a layover in another state, then about the same amount of time in Israel, then Jordan, then Israel again, then back to wherever that layover was, then back to Dallas, then back to Frisco, then back to the other side of Frisco, etc. Holy hell, it was quite the unpleasant and eye-opening ride. Every one of those relocations and trips… was from one abusive situation to the next, with no end in sight.
This was to be the final town I ever stayed in in Texas; Frisco, right on the edge of Plano, the place where I’d been abused and wrongfully booted out of places for more than a decade during my youth. I hated it just as much, if not more so, than I did when growing up here. I especially hated having to make back-to-back emergency-relocations across it, having never wanted to even be back here, let alone experiencing so much more of it (of its default-abusive bullshit).
Looking back on it, I’m amazed I survived the experience with my sanity and morality intact. I really don’t know how I did it. I suppose I just had to ride that wave, not even really being able to hold on to anything.
There’s no way in hell I’d ever go back to this uncivilized, barbaric, uneducated, pollution-belching, ogre-overrun shit-hole of a city and state… at least until I know I won’t ever be yanked around through so many relocations (or any relocations here) again… and even then, I’d still only return with my own military, certain I could control the whole region, staying for as long as I like, under the conditions I like, collecting all the fines all the Texan psychopaths now owe me for their crimes.
Lessons learned? Every time I’ve been forced to resort to life in Texas, it has been bad. The only thing that made it workable… was keeping all my things packed tightly in bags I could carry to and from my vehicle at a moment’s notice. Keeping my interactions with the Texans to an absolute minimum has always helped, too –and been necessary. The more I review and think about this, the gladder I am that I made the call to stop introducing myself to the rest of them; that decision probably saved me from even more relocations and abuse while re-stuck in their failed state.
Also, I might add, this was like a year of post-military boot-camp craziness all over again, and on a whole new scale. It made my travels and expeditions around the world seem easy, by comparison. I don’t think I’ve ever really felt as stressed since. For that, Texas and Frisco, and all the psychos who call you home, I thank you. May I never see any of you again, though. Goodbye.
