The Last Resort

Okay, a few people asked what freaked me out so much yesterday. Well here's the whole story. Most of you know I'm slightly paranoid at the best of times, well... you couldn't make this shit up...

It started at work. My colleague handed me an envelope that was addressed two-thirds incorrectly, to someone we'd never heard of, at a company that didn't exist. It had made it to us due to one line of the address that resembled the company name.

I checked with the manager of the centre in which we're based to find if she knew anyone of the name or company name on the envelope. She didn't. I ask my colleague to google the company name. No record anywhere. So I open the envelope. A pile of ink-jet printed papers with a cover note. The cover note was one paragraph and said something along the lines of "I hope you find these of some use, please let me know how many people you are bringing to the cabaret." The address in the top-right corner consisted of a name, a job title and a company name. No address, no post code. Again, I ask my colleague to google the company name. Again, no record anywhere.

So I start reading the documents. I promptly shit my pants.

Four pages containing the details of a HUGE drug deal. Details of all the gangs in the local area, the quantity of the drugs arriving, the split betweens gangs, the origin of the substances, the punishment for those that cut the drugs with anything dangerous, the details of all the CCTV cameras in the local area.

"Fuck. Well, I guess I'm involved now. So, what do I do? Do I call the police? Do I throw it away? Should I keep well out of it? No, morally I have to do something, surely? Fuck. What if they find out? They must know where they sent it, it can only have been me. Okay, I'll keep my colleague out of this. She doesn't need to know. If they're gonna come after someone, it might as well be just one person. FUCK. How am I gonna sleep tonight? Okay Guy, think... No, that's not helping. Go clean your pants and then think again. Right...

OH FUCKING HELL, I DON'T KNOW!

I'll speak to my boss, he'll know what to do..."

So I go downstairs as my boss is arriving and I ask him to meet me in a private meeting room. I show him the letter. He shits himself too. "What the fuck? Who would do this? Why would they send it to us?" I don't know, I'm getting worried. I reply

"I know, how fucked up is this? What do we do?"
"Right, we put this in the post to the police and then we forget about it."
"This is fucked up."
"Why would they do this? It makes no sense..."
"I know. I mean, and to send it to an incorrect address with half a post-code, you'd think they'd be more caref... oh, hang on. Give me the envelope..."

My brain starts to think logically again. The stalker. The bloody stalker...

Well before I took up post, the previous director worked with a client who was particulalry schizophrenic. He was fine while he was working with him, but some time after they stopped working together he started sending weird things in the post. Pants, hats, weird poetry, socks...

I run back to the office with the envelope. Luckily the bin hasn't been emptied in a long, long time. I dig out the jiffy bag containing the pants. I wasn't aiming for it, it was pot (un)luck which one came out first. The handwriting matches.

We all take a deep breath. Not least because the pants stink.

I investigate with the HR department and it turns out he has played this little fantasy out before. Panic over. Everything returns to normal.

Until...

I arrive home from work in my usual forlorn state. I walk into my bedroom and there is a black envelope sitting on my bed. It looks like a card of some sort. That's funny, it's nowhere near my birthday. Have I forgotten something? It looks a bit weird. This is spooky.

I open the envelope...

...a black card, with a black rose on it...

...brown pants time again...

...I stare at the card, wondering what I've done to deserve this. Maybe this is from the "Sea Mafia" after all. I can't bring myself to open the card, I'm genuinely scared...

And so I should be.

It's a wedding invite.

Nathan and Claire - you owe me a new pair of pants.

Okay... not sure how much writing I have left in me at the moment, I seem to have done nothing but all day. I put today aside for some me time so despite the lovely weather I've been in my room all day. Normally I'd be dying to get out and do something in the sunshine, but it's been so long since I just stopped that I feel a whole lot better for doing nothing all day. I say nothing, of course I have been doing things, creative things- reading, writing, playing music, thinking... mixed in with the odd household chore of course. Anyway, where was I? Let me see...

Anyway, in his book The Fall Steve Taylor tells of a time before religion when gatherer-hunter groups lived all over the world in peaceful isolation from each other. When human crossed paths they helped each other, and there is no evidence of violence or war from this period. Nobody owned land, nobody had possessions (other than pieces of cloth to wear and things they crafted themselves) and nobody needed or owned weapons. Men and women lived as equals and there is even some evidence that females were dominant and worshiped. Then came "The Fall" and the rise of the human ego. I really wish I had the book to hand because I can't remember the detail of what caused it, but the bottom line is that men then claimed land, possessions and women, and the strong started to wield power. I'm fascinated by it.

I'd love to be able to return to a world where people didn't fight, mug, steal, bribe or kill just to buy the latest iPod/phone/flatscreen tv. None of that stuff means anything to me. I get my joy from music, from creating music, from seeing wonderful things, from having special moments with people and sharing precious memories with friends. I always said I don't need anything other than a roof over my head and a guitar. Nothing else matters, although obviously love and friendship are great comforts. That said, they bring their own difficulties. I often wonder if the life of solitude is perhaps the happiest of all. Otherwise aren't we simply just jumping from circumstance to circumstance to try to slay the previous problem?

I love the movie Into the Wild. Despite the unhappy ending, that sort of life really appeals to me. To just disappear into nature and live from of social restrictions and expectations. To fend for yourself, make your own moments and answer to no one. Can there be anything more perfect than that?

I suppose there can. That moment with a special someone. That feeling of security and affection. The thought of building a dream together and not having to be alone.

Uh... okay, I seem to have entered my head a little too deeply.