)O( The Dragon's Breath [exhale]

Once upon a time there was a 20-something girl named Angelique. She was a sparkly, beautiful, mischievous little ray of sunshine. Her mother and I became very close friends as we worked together at my cute little school. Unfortunately, I could sense death all around this girl. I could tell that she had way too much trust for others and wasn't good at taking advice. One day, she went missing for a few days, just screwing around with random boys. Of course her mom was devastated and worried sick. When Angel got back in touch, I snatched the phone and yelled at her for making us all worry and disrespecting her mother. At first, she didn't think I was in the right, but a couple of weeks later she apologized to me and her mom. She made it clear she understood the importance of staying in touch and promised not to pull that shit again. Six months later, she was poisoned by some British slimeball at a Chinese owned hotel and died, instantly. We wouldn't have even found her body if the private investigator hadn't gone looking for her, because the people involved in her death have connections. The newspapers were instructed to spin it as "party girl overdose", but when the toxicology report finally came back, it was clear that she was poisoned. My theory is that there was a different plan but somehow that plan was ruined, so they just "gave it all to her". I facilitated her mother's viewing of her body, handled questions from the press and police, and so much more. She died during Cambodia's festival of the ancestors and was cremated on el Dia De Los Muertos. I'm still reeling from it, but I respect myself as a valid death midwife. To add a little spicy spooky flavor, When I came downstairs on the 1 year anniversary of Sami Sok's death, there was an overdosed heroin addict dead on my front porch. I live almost inside the royal temple, you see... he wanted to be on sacred ground in his final moments. I blessed him, called the cops, and went to work.

While that was going on, one of the most unhinged things that's ever happened in my life was also happening. So, storytime.... when I was 23 years old, I had just gotten back to California from surviving Hurricanes Frances, Jeanne, Katrina, and Wilma (scares from Charlie and Ivan also). Deven had met this girl on IMVUbeta (a great era on the internet) and eventually the three of us became this weird little hentai polycule. She got the courage to actually fly to California and hang out with us, and so she did. We lost our apartment while she was here and obviously ain't no relatives taking the 3 of us freaks in, so we trashed around Southern California for a few weeks, couch surfing, camping, seeing the sights, etc. I found out later that this event was her "being homeless with us". I honestly never even saw it that way. We were roughing it a little, sure, but punk rock and stuff, right? LOL. That's only the beginning of the disparity between her perspective and mine. She was obsessed with Deven like any reasonable girl, so we had fun being "Thing One and Thing Two" with him. They got sexual, but she had quite a bit too much internalized homophobia to actually hook up with me. Eventually, she ran away from us, eventually admitting she couldn't handle the complexity of the relationship. For a while, I wrote her letters, stories, and poems, encouraging her to explore mysticism and to be herself. She kept those letters for all these years, but never understood a word written in any of them. She was not there for me when Deven died and has never been capable of being reciprocal. Our relationship gradually stabilized into an internet friendship, and stayed that way for about 9 years. I kept her at arm's length but continued to be encouraging and supportive, including sending her money from time to time when she got in a tight spot. Fast forward to Winter of 2023. She attempts suicide, ends up hospitalized. Her family is exhausted from her multiple attempts, and has never been loving or kind to her. When she speaks to me, she always leaves out any details that will expose her bad habits and tendencies. So, to me, it sounds like she's just unloved and misunderstood, is doing her best, and should just branch out and see more of the world. NONONONO. It's way more intense than that. She takes my suggestion to mean she should move to Phnom Penh. I tell her, hey, I'd be happy to show you around my city, but please understand you're not going to be living with me or dating me. And then I reiterate that a few times because I have a sinking feeling. She takes out an irresponsible loan and shows up in July. I'm not fucking kidding. At first, I was hoping this would be her getting a new lease on life, learning some cool cultural things, etc. I could tell within 72 hours of her arrival that she had been lying to me for the last decade about her mental health. She has severe Borderline Personality Disorder, Anxiety Disorder, and a bunch of untreated, unacknowledged trauma. Of course, she went off her meds and began stalking me. I tried to be her friend at first, but it was a lost cause. She had a very strong relationship with an imaginary Raven that I was interrupting. By the end of September she was threatening to kill herself regularly and asking me why I didn't want her. For some reason, she got a Molotov Cocktail tattooed up her neck all the way to her chin, instead of a job. I can't take someone with that type of ink to the temples.... what the fuck? Then, when I asked for some space and hooked her up with my therapist friend..... she got a really bad tattoo of a raven in flight up her arm. I became concerned that she would show up at my job if I stopped talking to her, so I blocked her on everything except telegram. She claimed to be in love with me to everyone I know in this town, but any time I spoke with her she wanted to fight and would start talking about suicide when I didn't participate. When I spoke to her in person, she would flinch like I was slapping her at random points. Very triggering for me, as I am not a fucking abuser. I called my goth boys in for advice, and one said, "remember, you just have to figure out the appropriate way to throw money at this problem". I thought about it for a few days. Then, I bullied her into seeing the only Psychiatrist qualified to discuss her situation. I paid for it. Then I paid for the meds he prescribed. Then I agreed wholeheartedly with his assessment that Cambodia isn't equipped to provide the type of support she needs. Then she cried a lot, insulted me until I told her to fuck off forever, got on a plane, and went back to Canada.

Then Ned (friend in the punk music scene) unalived himself and we did that funeral, too.

The End.

Tune in next time as I rebuild my sense of peace after all this shit.