Over the last two years I wrote from so many different angels.
But, my angles, so they had to be true and just, just like this entry, a foretelling of what would go down, eventually, when I lost most of my possessions from Rosie's house after I was booted out next door. I have no shame. I can be diametrically opposed. It's not a sin to flip flop. It's what gymnasts do all the time.
It wasn’t like I didn’t try and rekindle our love.
She played dumb on the phone.
Rosie was sweet sixteen and exploring.
She was her daddy’s rose.
Rose, can you hear me, why aren’t you talking.
She moaned, in her bed, in her bedroom, in her house, on 108 Girrawheen Avenue.
I called up Frank. He said he changed your locks changed.
Miss Forgetful, um?
He said only the emergency services could access them.
He never called me.
And when he does, only to ask a favor, like check if you are alive.
Rose, wasn’t I was supposed to take you to Mt.Isa to meet your sister Elizabeth. Didn’t she say that said I was a good man.
What is happening with you Rosie.
Rose.
Have you had enough of life.
Are we boring you.
Are you ready for the next journey.
God just won’t let you die.
Rosie, you have forsaken me.
It hurts more than having nothing to do with you.
But I failed to understand that the millions of words I’ve spoken, you didn’t digest one word.
You only took the time to digest what I said, when I called you a bitch. We all hate you. No one will miss you. It’s irony. You wouldn’t know that would you Rosie. You never went to school.
So stop playing the Dame and dig a hole in your back yard and bury yourself.
I’ll look out for you in Spring.
Pink.
That’s my cooler, Rose.
Pink.
You caused me so much trouble.
My doctor said to avoid you like the plague.
I got off on hanging out with my own Aunt Dotty.
It was great knowing ya!
Rosie, did you know that Frank, your youngest brother, is sick of you. He can’t wait for you to die. You were supposed to be dead years ago. Frank and Bernadette had plans of moving back to Langkawi.
BUT YOU RUINED EVERYTHING.
Yes, you were right. They want your money.
But we couldn’t talk about it.
Your saintly side would deny it.
But in moments of absolute clarity, you would nail it.
Of course, they are fucking after your money.
They sent the In Laws over for a month.
You played possum.
I didn’t hear from you.
And now you are doing the same.
I have a pork chop that is waiting for you.
It’s expired and smells a bit gamey.
It will ferment well on your roof.
Won’t it.
But I need something smellier.
Rotten fish.
Rosie, I only do this because I love you.
You know that.
And to think that you have been playing crazy the whole time I know you.
You really do play the demented old lady well.
Who is the real Rosie, stand up.
To set the records straight, I know you as Francesca Sta Maria.
You who has many names.
You can’t fool me.
Because I’ve staked my claim on the internet.
And do you know what name I used?
Take a fucking guess, bitch….
Rosie, why did you forsake me.
Do you even know who I am?
You are doing fantastic Rosie.
Do I need to tell you that every sentence.
What do you mean I tell everyone about the things I buy you?
That’s just dementia speaking.
It was random.
I remember.
I was sitting outside with you catching some sun.
You had me running back and forth, getting you fruit, making you coffee, throwing out your trash. Rosie, you milked me. When I stopped being your bell boy, you turned on me. I was never going to buy you anything again, did you know that?
Of course you did.
That’s why you blew me off.
You only have people who give on your team.
No room for takes, huh?
Isn’t that right?
I’ve nailed it.
Rosie, you are a fucking user.
Miss Sta Maria, I have thousands of photos of you.
I knew one day you would play your power games.
I’ve seen them firsthand.
Rosie, you are a tyrant.
Once you get bossy, your orders start taking the tone of the Slave Master.
Rosie.
Whatever got into your head that someone born into a Christian family, in an Asian country, and one of twenty siblings, could be so high and mighty.
Poverty is humbling, Rosie.
Maybe you experienced too much of it.
Then I’d understand.
Really I would.
Insane cleaning go last few days.
What does it mean Rosie.
It means I’ve accumulated so much junk and it wants to just lie down and die and decay. Our true state, rot, filth, food for Earthship. It needs food too to keep spinning.
No, we are here for Earth. Earth devours all in it’s own time.
We are fodder, food
But we don’t know it.
Earth doesn’t want to die like Mars or Mercury, or Venus.
Their parasites didn’t offer enough, and they dried up and died.
Rosie, I feel for you.
You were only doing what you were told
Bernadette got in your ear.
Everyone got in your ear.
I was the local crack head, they said, with no manners.
A 53-year-old foul mouth.
You we’re the only one to give me a chance.
You gave me refuge against the Africans.’
But having out with you incurred it’s own set of problems.
I didn’t think old ladies got jealous.
You are 83.
You live in your own little world.
The Australian government has been cold.
Yet you take. Take some more.
You don’t know what it’s like to give.
Another Sunday Christian, looking so pious going to mass. The martyr. The old lady who can still walk to church on a Sunday. What a fucking miracle.
You fooled everyone but not me.
I gave you a chance.
I saw you everyday at the gate, looking for anyone to talk to.
You are lonely.
And I eased your loneliness.
Then you got bolder.
Now that you got me, you could start playing your cruel game.
You needed to draw them in first.
That half-eaten economy cheesecake lured in.
I’d eat anything back then.
Rosie, you had me completely.
I thought I was making a difference.
In the end, you turned on me like you turned on everyone else.
Rosie, do you really think I was threatening you.
Sure, I’d love to kick you in the back and watch you never get up.
But now I question that.
You are a bag of very frail bones that defies life and can still walk.
Your toes are crooked, crossed over each other.
You are the old lady that lives in the shoe.
Now I remember.
Rosie, I was your fair-weather friend.
I saw you fraternise with your own kind.
I was never invited to your birthday, your Christmas parties, never.
Rosie, you were ashamed of me.
I was just someone who could look in on you.
An old lady prone to falls needs someone like me.
Rosie, you fucking used me. So did your family.
No Christmas cards, no thanks, nothing.
Dirty fucking ungrateful Malays.
Go back to where you came from.
