The Book of Joshua P!!

A friend recently asked me "Why" am I considering a suit against the MTA. Another friend of a friend of Molly’s that’s in a advocacy group even went so far as to suggest I "learn karate before the next time this happens".

THE NEXT TIME?!?! I SHOULD EXPECT THIS TO HAPPEN AGAIN?!?!

If there is a next time, so how does this make any of this pain worthwhile? A physically or mentally weaker person WOULD have DIED out there, I assure you of that; I myself was very close, and I promise you, they wanted me dead. No one knocks someone unconscious, then takes the loving dare they did to obliterate my head, back, and stomp on your throat unless they WANT you DEAD. Last night a friend of mine who is a captain with the LAPD said that the FIRST charge on the report for this would have been ATTEMPTED HOMICIDE 187, and it would not have been ignored. I always feared the Sheriff’s imposing demeanor before when I lived in the Antelope Valley, and now that fear has been justified in my heart.

Perhaps my sense of logic is lost, but I thought that on a subway car I should be just as safe as I am anywhere else I pay for a service at 9PM on a Sunday night. I never liked being picked on as a kid, and if the bullies beat me then like these did to me now, I assure you there would have been a lawsuit against the presiding authority who cared too little to intervene. Then, it was the principal, vice principal, etc… and they did a damn good job of protecting kids from each other. They couldn’t fix my self esteem, but a bruised self esteem doesn’t WIRE YOUR DAMN JAW SHUT for 6 WEEKS and require counseling for you and those that love you. It only has the potential to scar you for life, it doesn’t guarantee it.

Uggh… have we all gone so far we aren’t willing to stand up to an encroaching menace? Are we so apathetic of the common man, ye so unfortunate to ride public trasportation, that they no longer deserve safety? Are our inalienable rights lost in that metal box? What if the races were reversed? Would this be a hate crime? Where is Al Sharpton for me?!

I won’t make you plow through my replies to the comments on my blog entries… here’s what I said in response to the "Why"…

I’m feeling it.

I feel trapped, and I’m going to drive Molly insane. I can’t drive anywhere, I don’t want to freak Molly out and go hop on the subway (I think I could do it, but I’d probably freak out as soon as I got near it, to be honest).

I can’t drive anywhere because my license is in limbo. I don’t have a bike. The bus sucks and takes forever. There’s all these damn things that just keep driving me up the wall, and I just have to suck it up, because I can’t change them. Anyone got a solution for me how to get a valid driver’s license that I can use in Cali.? The DMV here seems to think everyone’s got hundreds of dollars and weeks of time just floating around. I don’t care if I have to go out of state, I want my freedom of travel back, it’s in the constitution.

I got the police incident report in the mail yesterday. Assault with a deadly weapon, Robbery (strongarm), and a freakin KIDNAPPING charge for whoever I can find that did this… that’s a pretty big if, but it’s also a new level of humility to be the victim of such things. You feel so strong, then you look at those words, and it’s hard to look anyone you don’t know in the eye anymore. The world gets to have it’s way with you, just because it can.

I’m kind of angry. I woke up with the term in my head, that I was in the "new minority", the polite white population who couldn’t afford or couldn’t understand the need to forever keep moving further from what they call home. I love Los Angeles; I love Hollywood; I don’t know if I feel safe. I guess it’s a new empathy that arises to have the color of your skin make you a target for violent crimes, and not just harassment… white kids always got picked on in Hawaii, but rarely did anything like this happen.

in the movie Collateral they say that people die on the LA subway and no one notices. I believe it. Someone mopped up a LOT of blood and didn’t bother to tell anyone. MTA didn’t know this happened until Molly called them to file a report. Bastards. Apparently, they hide behind ignorance; the few cameras they do have "in-car" are only closed circuit, viewable by the staff on hand. That translates into, if the driver / staff person saw it happen, they didn’t care enough to help me. I can’t believe civilization has "de-volved" so far.

Then, there are the positives. I have Molly talking to a lawyer who has successfully sued the state, county, and even the United States for similar negligence. The crux of the matter is finding someone else that this has happened to before me, making them of knowledge of the danger and henceforth liable.

We also found a Victims of Crime group, and they have the resources to pay for counseling for us. I don’t know if I can chant my way to ascend out of this pain, and Molly’s gonna take a lot of work just to feel confident in public again. Our lives are forever changed at the hands of strangers.

I went to the liquor store on the corner yesterday, alone. I feel like a 10 year old whose parents are trying to teach him responsibility. Perhaps that’s the moral of this story.

We went to Canter’s last night. That was so awesome, just to be out and doing something normal even if it was only pea soup that I had to water down and drink through a straw, it was a taste of heaven. Rodney on the Roq said Hi to Molly. Yay.

Thank god for coffee.

I’m offering bribes to people that will take me out for errands. I feel guilty, like I’m stealing Molly’s life from her; coffee, gas, whatever is the offer. Just get me the hell out of the house for a bit. A regular ride to and from the gym every other day would be golden; I can’t let this ruin what I had of a life before it.

Well, it’s time to try to fool myself into feeling productive. I hope that, to whoever is reading this, I find you happy, healthy, and well… I’ll plan to catch up to that state in a few weeks.

I really am being pushed to the edge here, god, buddha, whatever your name is…

It’s not enough that this accident has caused me to lose hundreds of dollars, faith in humanity, and made my girlfriend have to take care of me like a baby….

After I spent the night squirting spaghetti sauce from a baby dropper into the back of my mouth just past where my jaw is wired shut, did Molly and I really deserve to get BOTH of our cars keyed? Was that so funny? A reminder to clean up my neighborhood?

When I went to the DMV today, and they first didn’t understand why I didn’t want a new state ID with my eyes blacked out and I’d rather wait to get a new one, did you REALLY have to make the petulant little person behind the counter come back and tell me not only was my license suspended without me knowing it, but I’d have to shell out a couple of hundred bucks and sit in a class for 2 weeks AGAIN for something I was told was over 5 years ago?

Now, I can’t logically even try to convince Molly I’ll be OK driving around, because, not only do I not have the license with me, but it’s suspended anyway! I can’t write checks to pay my bills, because I don’t have checks. I can’t work my little one night a week cashier job because I can’t talk, and I can’t look for a new job because I can’t drive, can’t talk, and no one gets a job with two black eyes, no matter what the cause.

The wires are cutting up inside of my mouth, and hurting my teeth… BUT, the great and grand "but" of it all… I "could" use wax like people with braces use… and when I do, it helps for most of the painful spots, but just fall right out of the worst spot, at the back of my mouth on the left and right… here’s the real part where "teh Funny" kicks in: should I accept that only most of the pain will go away, and put the wax in, I can’t eat, drink or breath through my mouth… and no matter what, I can’t get to that precious Ibuprofen 1200mg that will make my head stop throbbing, unless I pound it up and put it in something; you can snort it… but wait, if it’s in something, then that something isn’t getting in past the wax!

I am so tired of feeling like a prisoner of petty circumstance.

WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO? I feel like this is just some idiotic test I could just so easily pass, but you gotta tell me…

Do you want me to give up and quit? Because apparently the resilient, indomitable, positive attitude just isn’t to your taste… am I just too stupid to realize that my life is just one big cosmic joke? Is that why I was depressed about turning 28? Is that why I resent when people just can’t treat me like a human?

Help me understand this, because as a comedy writer, you’re right on par with the NEW SNL, and that’s really not saying much. Am I the producer that just can’t fire those who flush my dreams down the toilet?

Uggh… this isn’t productive. I refuse to accept that I deserve this, and I refuse to accept that somehow this is all my fault.

I guess I’ll just have to continue my holding pattern against the battery, grinning like a dullard, because I don’t know what else to do. I’m just tired of either the effort I put forth being useless.

"It just doesn’t get any better…" What the hell does that mean?

"

Your confidence should be on the rise, as your expertise is in a subject others only dream about mastering. "

That’s what my horoscope had to say today for me. God, I hope it’s true… it’s so hard feeling this weak and trying to be an example of strength. I just spoke to a friend, Brooke Bundy, and her statement on pity, and something I’ve always agreed with, is this:

"…when you pity someone, you place yourself in a position of superiority over them, and when you start off in that direction, you end up in worlds of anger and regret and doubt…"

DAMN! I couldn’t say more succinctly why I don’t want any pity in any of this. Use whatever energy you would to pity me and instead wish me a fast recovery… and for those of you that already have that for me in your hearts, I promise you it’s working. Every day it’s that much easier to move, to walk, to breathe, to look in the mirror.
—
Yesterday we did make it to the Huntington, and it was exactly what we needed, to walk in a peaceful, quiet, beautiful place and just remember that there are still a lot of amazing things in the world, and we must not confine ourselves to our own trauma.

("… we must not confine ourselves to our own trauma"… WHAT??! damn, that’s GOOD. I officially copyright that, here and now!

I’m getting antsy. I can’t even walk up a few flights of stairs yet, but I want to go to the gym. I can’t focus both eyes all the time, but I want to drive. It’s hard learning my limitations, but I have to do it…. then of course are the perks… in this state, I simply must be spongebathed by Molly.

Last night was the BEST sleep I’ve had yet since this crap all happened. I’m finding that such small things make life so much more livable… oh the incredible pleasure of breathing Afrin can bring to an imploded sinus cavity. I probably shouldn’t be using it, but it works. Other exciting footnotes include finding that a 30 cent for jar of baby food lasagna is like heaven a food processor now equates with a Porsche in my heart.

Before bed I tried shaving a bit with an electric razor (Thanks, Buddha Mike!) and found another reason to be glad I don’t really remember much, and perhaps the reason I don’t remember much… I have straight line bruises deep across the front of my neck / throat area… not like being choked out by a person, but as if my neck had been heavily compressed against a bar; at least it’s making more sense why swallowing is so hard, and my memory loss can probably be deduced to some point of lack of oxygen. This one was the hardest to get a decent picture of, but we got some good ones.

Small thoughts of anger are creeping in the more I realize that whoever did this literally wanted me dead; I’m also starting to think a lot more about why I’ve had so many face to face meetings with my own possible death in my life. I’ve been electrocuted, and somehow wired it just right so that it didn’t do me in; my lungs collapsed, but just as I was already going in for chest surgery and the surgeons were already in there; my wrist was cut open by a window, but just far enough off that it missed the artery by a millimeter or so… the list goes on. I don’t know what the hell I am here for yet, but whoever is "in charge" seems to want to keep me around, and I try not to take advantage of that anymore.

In an email yesterday I said:
"…As with anything else in this life, I am unstoppable. This is not my worst of any one feeling I’ve ever had, it will not slow me down. I remain the luckiest person I know; I have a solid foundation within and underneath me and wonderful people who love me and are there for me. I will always be better than I began, and this is just another step…"
This is the attitude I am trying really hard to maintain with this.

I woke up today with literally the worst pain I can imagine a head having. Thoughts of Marathon Man (is it safe?) kept running through my mind. I gotta chill on this codeine, I’m already developing a resistance to it I think. A new empathy in me has developed for wearers of braces and other orthodontia… and an appreciation beyond belief for little pieces of wax and orajel pain reliever.

I’m going to try to go to Huntington Gardens today. It should be nice to get out of the house and go somewhere peaceful and beautiful. Molly’s packing my liquid picnic right now; it’s amazing how much closer something like this can bring two people together, just when I thought I couldn’t love her more, she’s proving to be one of the greatest reasons to get better.

At about 9PM Sunday, May 15 I got on a north bound subway train headed home, maybe to get some food on the way. It had been a great day hanging out with my new friend Kurt, and he taught me a LOT about ths film making business. We went to a couple are art shows and did some arts and craft screenprinting type stuff for a prospective magazine article over drinks at his friends place in Little Tokyo. I kept getting more and more hungry, so I decided to take off. He offered to put me in a cab, but I just ran off, sure that I would be OK.

I guess that’s subjective.

At around 11PM I was dumped into the ER at King / Drew medical center by an unidentified man who left after getting someone there to check me in. At least that’s what I am told.

I don’t remember a whole lot, and I guess that’s good, because every little bit that comes back to me makes me feel panic and disorientation. Here’s what I remember so far:

I DID make it onto a train. I don’t know if it was the right one, but I assume it was due to the following set of memories. I remember two black females and one black male on the train insisting that they "WERE helping me" and they kept shoving me back into my seat. I felt like I was 5 again, with bullies pushing me around and it was making me upset. I remember struggling, yelling "THIS IS MY STOP!" a lot of times, and they restrained me, laughing. I tried to break free, but I couldn’t; I looked for some type of emergency call button but I couldn’t see one, and I was at the back of the car, too far from the door. These people that were holding me asked me for something, I assume my money since my wallet and checkbook are missing now, and I said "NO!". The last thing I clearly remember on the train is a hand grabbing the back of my head.

My next string of memories are very wet and strange. I’m waking up on my side, and start crawling on the ground, trying to make my phone work; there’s cars passing by but noone is stopping; I’m screaming and crying and I think I’ve lost most of my teeth. I keep spitting out and vomiting out blood. I’m trying vainly not to make a mess. I can’t stand up. A small part inside of me keeps telling me that I won’t die out here; I just have to keep moving… just keep going and you’ll end up safe, I had to argue with me that I wasn’t going to die.

This seemed like an eternity… some voices asked me if I was OK, who I was, what was my name, did I know where I was… I couldn’t answer them clearly, and all I remember seeing is darkness and blood all over and a few lights here and there. It was time to sleep, and I felt cold.

My next memory is of an ER tech getting pissed off for vomiting blood everywhere, as if I could control it. I still couldn’t see anything cleary, and I tried to say I was sorry, but every movement made me vomit again. I think I puked directly on him once. People kept asking me for phone numbers and who I was.

Sleep. Cold, quiet sleep. I can’t remember sleep ever being so beautiful.

I wake up in the ER and Molly and Carmen are there. Everyone is being so kind, but I know this crying is a bit hard to deal with. The staff at King / Drew is AMAZING. I can’t speak highly enough of how well they took care of me.

I’ve got mushy parts on my head now that are swollen underneath my hair, and my face is shaped like a football and both my eyes are blacked out, and the pain is so bad I can’t sleep more than 2 hours at a time. My jaw is wired shut and will stay that way for about a month, and my vision is a bit blurry hear here and there from the pressure in my head.

I kinda hope that I don’t remember any more than I already do. If this ever all comes back to me, I’ll probably be really freaked out by it; for now I can at least pretend that I am strong because I don’t know what to be afraid of.

Molly and I have to keep a daily pictoral archive for when our lawyer helps us file a case against the MTA.

One of the ER techs said "you’re lucky to be alive."
I replied: "God keeps me around, I’m good humor."

Thank god for liquid codeine and blenders.

I guess I am looking at this blog as a place to filter out all the crap that’s in my head…. no one reads these things anyway, right?

It feels almost appropriate that I’d turn to an inanimate place to dump on, I have friends, but none I feel all that close with, and Molly doesn’t deserve the brunt of my retardedness. I’ve got Otis, and there’s history there, and the true freedom that comes from being able to not give a shit about being politically incorrect, but, in reality, I’ve only known him a short while, punctuated by a long absence in the middle. In addition to that, his main concern should be getting funding for his fucking film, not whether or not his star is a basket case.

I guess I’m fortunate. I grew up in a family that said stuff like "I love you" and "Fuck off" directly to each other’s faces, and we always hugged and threw stuff at each other. Emotionally, I like to think we’re very close; I wish Sam, my brother, was more willing to spend time with me, but he’s got so much going on with Imperative Reaction, work, and just generally being a 27 year old guy with some freedom and a little cash. It’d be nice if my folks were only a drive away, like when they were in Sacramento, but I guess them moving to Seattle from as far out as Nashville could be viewed as them meeting me halfway. At least it won’t be so hard to get everyone together for when Molly and I get married (yes, Sam, you WILL be the best man. )

Yeah, I said the "M-word". It’s bound to happen someday, and she seems to like me most of the time. The only compromises I have to put up with in the relationship are that she doesn’t want kids and she’s too cautious with life in general - neither of those do I have a leg to stand on should I wish to challenge her, since I can’t promise our kids wouldn’t get my Marfan Syndrome, and her caution allows me to keep expanding my savings account, get Laser Vision Correction, custom rims for my car, and even G4 iBook without necessarily having a job! I’m even putting together a frickin movie!

God, I’ve got so much more to write about… my (unnerving to some) "chitty chitty bang bang hyper-good luck lifestyle", Saki Munro, the "last honest person I knew" took his final sail down the commode, "what the hell am I gonna change my horrendous last name name to?", the "Dark world of Mac upgrades", "SGI Buddhism ~ am I crazy or is life really this easy?", future projects other than my movie, incorporating myself - "will I be the President of ‘World Domination Enterprises, All Circuits Are Busy Inc. or just simply Joshua Brenner & co.?", "staying out of the cubicle for good = unemployed and happy", "film festival facts and fiction", am I "the crazy guy at the gym"?, "why I don’t care about clubs anymore (yet i still want to throw one of my own)", my secret love / hate relationship with Dr. Laura, "who do you tell about your secret identity?", "the benefits of never blending in: even among the so called individuals", "funny things to say to people when they can’t hear or can’t touch you", the "secret guide to being a decent person thus gaining a relationship with someone ideal", the "art of sunglasses", "do you poop too much?", "what would Dr. Phil / Oprah do"?, and much, much more.

It’s hot out, and my 1920’s apartment has just so much fucking "charm" from the old world that I can’t get A/C because it’ll blow the fuse. I have to go. When I write I’ll come back and hyperlink to it.

~Joshua P!!