The Tales of Diaspora - Chapter 1 - Discordant Affections, Part 3

The car door slams behind me as I head for the front door. In a tiff, Victor jumps out of the driver's seat, leaving the door open behind him and pursues me with an unfamiliar tone. For a man who cant leave his wife for a nineteen o.tyear, he has an awfully possessive disposition to my breaking up with him. We spent the ride home debating the definition of the words whore and girlfriend. Insisting that I was not nor had ever been his girlfriend, he became dedicated to the preservation of our relationship in the most unprecedented of ways. He recalled all that he had ever done for me, failed at grabbing the plastic shopping bag out of my "ungrateful" hands and began to spout Christian doctrine of how special and precious women are to be treated in "God's earthly organization" and reminded me of how he regarded me as the weaker vessel. Amidst he's discourse, he was unaware I had no intentions of threatening his status in the congregation and therefore didn't need to try so hard. He can safely lose his "girlfriend".




"Dia!", he shouts, now grabbing my arm. I jerk it away thinking it was a second attempt at a forced refund.


"I don't want your toys, girl. I want you."


Now clasping my toys, I refrain from eye contact and inform him that I will have my mother change my phone number.


"I need to focus on myself now Victor. We've dated long enough." Emboldened by my womanly declaration, I finally look him in the eye. "And you don't have to worry about seeing me at the meetings anymore. I've learned enough." he stares at me with his mouth slightly parted, confused. As I begin to walk away, the front door opens and a very sleepy and most likely intoxicated voice softly utters my name as my mother wipes sleep from her eyes. "Dia?"


Scorned for what I determined would be the last time, I inform Victor that I now have more important things to do. I brush passed my mother, leaving Victor at the walkway. She defensively addresses Victor. "It's ten o'clock Brother Jones. What are you doing here?" I leave my ex boyfriend to my mother and nonchalantly ascend the staircase. Without turning back, "Sheparding call", I inform her pleasantly.


Three months later.


"Diaspora", pronounced correctly, Jake calls to me sarcastically. I open one eye and roll me head over to look at him. I wanted to swear and hiss but I'm drunk, high and half naked on his couch. We have Algebra II together. He's always impressed by my ability to test out of Algebra I but wont respect the pronunciation of my name. He's an Information Science major and a racist who likes to screw black women for notches in his bachelor's belt. "Don't be an asshole", deciding instead that swearing was appropriate. He approaches the sofa, I scoot upward so that he can sit and he gives his usual douchebag chuckle. When life is handed to you, I guess everything is funny. "Why aren't you high yet?", I ask fuzzily. he smiles, climbs on top of me and sucks my nipple. "I will be", he replies charmingly.


Jake and I continued for several more hours. Coke, brown liquor, joke-insult-joke sandwiches and awkward silent while he fiddled with hardware and programming software. My phone rings now for a third time since I left class. "Jake...", I grumbled. "I gotta go, Mom's looking for me." He never took his eyes off the monitor and grunted a nonchalant okay as I grabbed my things and stumbled to his apartment door. I collect myself in the hallway and call an Uber.


"I'll keep better track of my time Mom", a slurred plan to neutralize and pacify. All reasoning and justification escaped me when anticipating my mother's response to my recent recklessness. Since I've broken up with Victor, I've openly denounced our Christian faith to her and the public, endured ex-communication, and picked up both a boyfriend and recreational habit. His being my age didn't compensate for either new development, though my former relationship was the straw that broke that camel's back with her personal ties with Christianity.  I am aware though that my new lifestyle is abusive to my mother who doesn't want nor needs to live alone. I remain cold to her newfound grounds for revoking my residency in her home with us both knowing that it would more emotional harm than good. My saving grace is that my schoolwork hasn't suffered. Surprisingly enough, my new pharmacist of a boyfriend rides me consistently on both my grades and attendance. "Nothing's free Diaspora", pronounced correctly, is his motto.


I stare for about ten seconds too long at the notification that my ride is eight minutes away and laugh at myself. I balance the weight of a book bag, and over packed purse, shoes and my jacket. All poorly arranged in my arms as I hobble to the walkup's staircase. "Slowly Diaspora, slowly", I coach myself. "One step at a time", I chuckle melodically. "One, two, thr...", I miss a step and had no means of grabbing the banister. I tumble quickly down the flight and I smash forehead first into the banister support beam at flight's end.


Beep... Beep...Beep...

The tyrant sits powerless in a small room of the Intensive Care Unit staring at the display for my heart's monitor. Feeding and oxygen tubes are accompanied by doctors and nurses consoling my mother for her daughter's condition and dim prognosis. Needless to say that the rule of tyranny could not stomach the need for a miracle. As the doctor leaves, my mother wiped tears from her eyes. My father, the one also responsible for bearing this tragic load, continued in his three year long pattern of being missing in action, incommunicado. My mother prayed.


"Oh Heavenly Father, Sovereign Lord, I approach your throne begging for you to overlook the spiritual rebellion of both my daughter and I. Please God, spare her life. She is all I have, Dear God, please." She repeated. "She is all I have." My mother's returned Christian zeal was inaudible as I laid in a coma. It was one o'clock in the morning and The Taylor Residence was dwindling down to an occupancy of one.

Pastors of Perversion

With all the openness of the occult, I am disappointed by adolescent adventures of the playful perverted pastors of today's hermetic societies. Google them if you will for horror stories of molestation and other forms of bothering a woman or her aspirant and they all pale in comparison to the childish challenges of those seeking competence despite being labeled a Master. Much like the boyhood they claimed to have graduated from, you offer love, they want prostitution. You offer prostitution, they want love. Or, you offer Agape, they want hatred, you offer hatred, they want Agape; or should I say, a petty means of inflating their ego because they are the same social outcasts and misfits they were growing up. Much like the pimple faced, braces wearing geek in high school who all the girls teased who because a well off tech genius or the sort, the attaining magician of today's society wants to tease, beat and neglect The Pretty Woman as some disillusioned revenge against her kind from twenty or thirty years ago. My apologies Master, since you're so hellbent or bound on receiving one, I didnt know Becky or Veronica hurt you so badly that you must treat every ordeal triumphing, quick on her feet female magician as ugly, weak, passive aggressive, victim written, melancholy and worrisome. I won't be your Mommy, Master. I am your Sister after once being your Guest. You aren't half the beast you want our male colleagues to think you are and you wouldn't last as long as I have on my Path. I dont need your acceptance of my Way. To hell with you. I hit hard and low. And despite your efforts there is nothing about me that you can mistake for slow. Still to your giggly whores that want fantasy and association instead our reason for establishment. Give them the respect you denied me, give them the pardon you refused me, give them my honor that you ignore. It serves you right consoler. I've done Had enough. Bitch, He'll kill you.

The Trap: A Haunted Story of Gentrification Entry #3

INTERIOR- AUDITORIUM - AFTERNOON

CUT TO AERIAL VIEW AUDITORIUM ON SCREEN An African American male ballet dancer is visible before a large auditorium of scattered students and university faculty. Classical music plays.

CUT to MALE DANCER ON SCREEN With ballet's standard physique and chiseled facial features, he finished his routine with focus, grace and artistic precision. He bows.

SOUND EFFECT APPLAUSE


CUT to AUDIENCE ON SCREEN Their applause continues. There is a panel placed before the audience where the Head of Ballet is seated.

CUT to CU of H.O.B. ON SCREEN She speaks into the microphone.

HEAD OF BALLET

Very nice, thank you.

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She sits quietly looking only at the stage.

CUT to H.O.B. ON SCREEN

HEAD OF BALLET

Next, for Performance Based Placement, Susan Bateman.



CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She stands.

CUT to H.O.B. ON SCREEN She looks at Susan, who walks across screen.

CUT to CU H.O.B. ON SCREEN

HEAD OF BALLET

Susan, your selection is ready.

CUT to CU SUSAN ON SCREEN She stares emotionless into the crowd. She breathes deeply.

CUT to H.O.B. ON SCREEN There is brief silence as she looks at Susan.

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN

S.E. CLASSICAL/BALLET MUSIC PLAYS

Susan begins her routine.

VARIOUS CUTS/ANGLES (approx. 10-15) CLIMATIC ROUTINE - DURATION APPROX. 60 SECONDS

Susan delivers a flawless performance. At the end of her routine/selection, she stands facing the audience, breathing heavily and stern in demeanor.

S.E. APPLAUSE

Susan smiles and bows appropriately.

CUT to H.O.B. ON SCREEN She smiles and nods approvingly.

HEAD OF BALLET

Very well, Susan. Thank you very much.

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She nods in acceptance of her praise. As she begins to leave the stage, something in the distance catches her attention.

CUT to LUCAS ON SCREEN He stands at the auditorium entrance. He smiles at Susan and claps again silently.

FADE OUT

INTERIOR- KITCHEN -  EARLY EVENING

CUT to MR. BATEMAN ON SCREEN He sits at the kitchen dinette reading a journal.

CUT to MRS. BATEMAN ON SCREEN She preps dinner at the kitchen counter.

CUT to MR. BATEMAN ON SCREEN Without looking up from the journal, he addresses his wife.

MR. BATEMAN

Our daughter hasn't come out of her room this evening.

CUT to MRS. BATEMAN ON SCREEN

MRS. BATEMAN

She said she's worried about placement and has reading to do.

CUT to MR. BATEMAN ON SCREEN He looks up from his reading.

MR. BATEMAN

I'm sure that she placed just fine Marianne.

CUT to MARIANNE ON SCREEN She stops food prep, sighs and turns to her husband with her hand on her hip.

MARIANNE

Well what do you suppose I do William?

CUT to WILLIAM ON SCREEN He puts down the journal.

WILLIAM

Perhaps, you could use a hand with dinner.

He slowly returns to his journal while eyeing Marianne.

CUT to MARIANNE ON SCREEN She chuckles sarcastically in defeat as she continues prepping dinner.

INTERIOR - DINING ROOM - EVENING
CUT to BATEMAN FAMILY ON SCREEN They sit at the dining room table, quietly eating dinner. The light in the dining room is dim. The kitchen beside the dining room it pitch black.

CUT to MARIANNE ON SCREEN She sips a glass of wine, looks towards Susan and then her husband.

CUT to WILLIAM ON SCREEN He sips as well. He looks at Marianne, places down his glass and then addresses Susan.

WILLIAM

Susie...

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She looks up from playing with her meal.

CUT to WILLIAM ON SCREEN

WILLIAM

How was your day?

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She returns to playing in her food.

CUT to WILLIAM ON SCREEN

WILLIAM

I hear who had your placement audition.  

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN

SUSAN

My performance was fine, thank you.

CUT to MARIANNE ON SCREEN She looks to neutralize the tension between the two.

MARIANNE

And I'm glad. I have high hopes for you Susie.

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She places down her fork.

SUSAN

But why would the three of us need to move to Philadelphia, if you two wouldn't be there?

CUT to WILLIAM ON SCREEN He pats his mouth with a cloth napkin.

WILLIAM

We would have,

CUT to MARIANNE ON SCREEN She nods in agreement to both.

CUT to WILLIAMS ON SCREEN

WILLIAM

but we both had to work and you know why you couldn't live on campus Susan.

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN

CUT to WILLIAM ON SCREEN

WILLIAM

So you didn't have to have another abort....

CUT to MARIANNE ON SCREEN She looks to save face.

MARIANNE

William, performance went well. I am very proud.

CUT to WILLIAM ON SCREEN He returns to his meal.

WILLIAM

You can't embarrass your mother and I if you focus on your grades and ballet.

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN Reluctantly, but solemnly, she agrees.

SUSAN

I have been irresponsible.

CUT to WILLIAM ON SCREEN

WILLIAM



That's correct and...



S.E. THREE (3) KNOCKS FROM KITCHEN

William looks over to the kitchen startled.

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She does the same.

CUT to MARIANNE ON SCREEN Same.

CUT to WILLIAM ON SCREEN He stands and heads towards the kitchen.

WILLIAM

I'll be right back...

CUT to MARIANNE ON SCREEN

MARIANNE

Do you want me to go with you William?

CUT to CU WILLIAM ON SCREEN He walks into the dark kitchen.

WILLIAM

Uh uh, stay with Susan. 

CUT to KITCHEN ON SCREEN (darkness and silence)

CUT to MARIANNA ON SCREEN She peers into the darkness.

MARIANNE

William?

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She looks into the darkness.

SUSAN

Dad?

CUT to KITCHEN ON SCREEN The light cuts on and William stands at the back door staring out of the window.

CUT to WILLIAM ON SCREEN He stares quietly through the small window curtain.

WILLIAM

Hm.

He turns and ad libs to the women of the house, diverting from the situation at hand.

FADE OUT

the full screenplay is in composition and available upon request...

           

Occult Observations: The Shame of Descent - A Review of Charlie Chaplin's "City Lights"

The silent comedy opens with the star, Charlie Chaplin, sleeping on a monument that had not yet been revealed to the city. Once revealed, the eighty-six minutes of controversial adult comedy, inspiring more occult shock than laughter, takes off. The monument that The Tramp rests on consisted of three subjects or statues. The Tramp preferred to and succeeded in the pursuit of disregarding what was intended to be charitable and honorable for the people in order to rest in the lap of the throned woman; an indication of sexual preference and loyalty to his origin, maternal energy. He was successful in the endeavor by waiting until nightfall when neither the people or the city could witness the violation. The comedic and simple-desired criminal mastermind’s timing reveals that the hierarchy of the sexes is, in fact, the reverse. Notice the sword of the reclining male philosopher or paternal deity is pointed to The Mother's abdomen. Oh Mother, the pleasurable pain of division, how we fell!

Furthermore, The Tramp, achieving the child's rest on the mother's lap is later educated on the way of the world by receiving a foreign paternal point in the rear end. This adds credence to the philosophy that our art progresses as our society does. Such a painful consequence for evading the responsibility of rising to the attainment of philosopher as every true adult should. While there is no glory in his pursuit of the mother over the woman, those observing the film must admire and be amused by his ability to turn the tables on the shame of his descent from his prolonged stay on the mother's lap. He proclaimed to the world silently. I should have lived as a man with a woman on my lap and now the point has ruined my pants as my discipline from the elders from my gender related cult. But know this, before I resume tramping I will mock those disciplining me! To hell with you Sir, I sit on your face! Oh, I smell you intelligent and curious gentleman, acceptable, but I must stay on course. So, I'll sit on your hand. Look, it’s humorous to the people. They love it! Then he proudly moves on and finds the woman. Mr. Forty Year Old Tramp, welcome to manhood!

Another impressive aspect of this contextual theme is response from those In attendance of the monumental revelation. The mayor's wife and the other ladies in attendance were utterly mortified. How dare he ruin our moment? Didn't he see our Mrs. Mayor’s pull the ribbon so perfectly? Did he not notice how important we are? No, no he did not. The mayor and other officials were deeply engrossed even slightly amused. Then joined the military in outrage when the commotion was noticed. But overall, Mr. Forty Year Old Tramp had a great turnout for his performance and seamless getaway. With a camera positioned far from the scene, realistic portrayals and long scenes reducing the number of cuts, there is no wonder how such a perversely charged artist could avoid prison. Is one not surprised that a man afraid of swimming’s perfect match is a blind girl?

The Trap: A Story of Haunted Gentrification Entry #2

INTERIOR -  COLLEGE CLASSROOM - NOON

CUT to PROFESSOR ON SCREEN He lectures before the class, speaking with artistic gusto.

PROFESSOR

In The Black Cat, the motif of murder

CUT to PROFESSOR POV ON SCREEN The room of young adults has mixed attention.

PROFESSOR

                                                       (dramatically)

and or

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She sits in the back of the class in the middle. She looks down, doodling with a pen in a notebook.

PROFESSOR

death 

CUT to PROFESSOR ON SCREEN 

PROFESSOR

that follows Poe,

CUT to LUCAS ON SCREEN Caucasian male, looks at the professor pretentiously, humored by the performance.

PROFESSOR

stalking him in fact

CUT to COLLEGE STUDENT #1 ON SCREEN Caucasian redhead female, she is unenthused.

PROFESSOR

reveals the artist's personal connection with

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She is as before.

PROFESSOR

The Ancient Fire God.

CUT to SUSAN POV ON SCREEN She draws stars in the right margin of her notebook. 

PROFESSOR

With the black cat as the representative of the protagonist

As she draws, Susan's hand slows involuntarily, almost to a complete stop.

SOUND EFFECT PROFESSOR VOICE PROGRESSIVE DISTORTION

PROFESSOR

What is to be said of the feline's screeching informing the policemen? 

CUT to CU of SUSAN ON SCREEN She is horrified as possession sets in.

SOUND EFFECT MUFFLED DISCUSSION STUDENT AND PROFESSOR

CUT to SUSAN POV ON SCREEN Her hand slowly moves to the left and begins to quickly make illegible markings, scratches, over her notes. 

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN Her fear transitions to deranged fixation on what's being written. It is apparent Susan is no longer "present" in class.

PROFESSOR

                                                    (cheerful gusto)

Susan!

With her head still down towards the notebook, mouth slightly opened, she slowly looks up at the professor. Her hand still moves but more slowly.

CUT to PROFESSOR ON SCREEN He is oblivious to the change in her presence.

PROFESSOR

You seem deeply engaged.

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She is silent as she stares at the professor.

CUT to PROFESSOR ON SCREEN 

PROFESSOR

What are your thoughts on wives catering to their husbands' perversions?

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She continues to stare unresponsively while her writing has ceased.

CUT to LUCAS ON SCREEN Still cockily amused, he looks back and forth between the professor and Susan. He chuckles while looking at the professor.

LUCAS

I don't think Susan is concerned with your perversions.

The class chuckles in unison. 

CUT to PROFESSOR ON SCREEN Embarrassed, he quickly regroups and diverts with his rehearsed enthusiasm. 

PROFESSOR

Very well then, moving along!

CUT to LUCAS ON SCREEN He looks back at Susan.

PROFESSOR

The Premature Burial!

CUT to LUCAS POV ON SCREEN Remaining lifeless in the happenings, Susan's eyes have cut over to Lucas.

CUT to SUSAN POV ON SCREEN Through his amusement, he shows concern for Susan. He nods to encourage a confirmation that she is indeed okay.

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN Ignoring Lucas, her eyes are now back on the professor, she then cuts her attention back to her notebook.

CUT to SUSAN POV ON SCREEN A scribbly letter "J" is amidst the illegible markings.

CUT to CU of SUSAN ON SCREEN She stares at the markings.

CUT to SUSAN POV ON SCREEN 

PROFESSOR

                                                 (loud outburst)

Class dismissed!

CUT to (possible CU) SUSAN ON SCREEN The loud sudden announcement, causes Susan to snap out of her engagement; blinking quickly. She tears.

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN (?) There is movement around her as the classroom empties. She quickly wipes her tears, runs her hands through her hair; gathering her composure and her belongings.

CUT to LUCAS ON SCREEN He stands, putting on his book bag. Noticing Susan's tears, he takes a more serious disposition.

LUCAS

Hey Susan, you okay?

CUT to SUSAN ON SCREEN She stands, leaving the class without any regard to Lucas.

CUT to LUCAS ON SCREEN He is offended even irritated by her brush off. 


FADE OUT

to be continued...