Disappearance
Day 21 of what I’ve come to call ‘financial disappearance’.
Not being there to pay the bills has its implications. Soon, they’ll come after my money and it is something which I have much need for – especially since there is no way I can possibly acquire another job. Internet banking is a wonderful thing – I shift money onto my card, then I find an ATM and withdraw a significant amount and stockpile it. The problem with all technology, is that it can be tracked. Thankfully, ATMs are plenty and so are self-service internet cafes. I pick locations which are geographically distant each time, so as to make any tracking through the banks difficult. Not impossible, but difficult. I just hope I can obtain a significant portion of my funds before someone, somewhere, freezes it all.
This time, I caught the train all the way up to Newcastle. My ritual is now almost carved to perfection. Most days I’ll catch the first bus I find at the stop not two blocks away to the first suburb it reaches with a train station. Other days, I’ll walk to the train station – sometimes to ones further away. The way I see it, what use is there in remaining lost if I become some kind of ‘regular’ at any location – buses and train stations included. My objective is to remain a strange face merely passing by, seldom returning to build familiarity. It’s working – so far.
From there I’ll plot a trip to my destination, buying tickets from the machines to avoid having to talk to an attendant. The train rides are still interesting in their unremarkability. More importantly, they are filled with less fear than the first train ride back to dad’s place over a month ago. I guess the reason for this is that I’ve built up techniques to isolate myself in public and social situations.
Prejudice is a powerful tool – people are saturated by it regardless of how much their attitude or their words deny it. Every time I have been approached by a respectable member of society, I have evoked an image that would draw out their prejudice and turn it against me – to create the isolation that I desire, but that their survival depends upon. There’s various ways I do this:
- Fear: Upon entering a filled carriage, I immediately begin muttering to myself in various voices. I pick the first topic that appears in my head and simulate an aggressive argument between a subdued character and a darker, more dominant one – ensuring the voices I use for each are distinct enough for any listener to differentiate. Twitching helps too. Everytime I catch someone looking at me, I immediately cease speaking and stare right back at them as blankly and as aggressively as possible. Every single person has turned away. They fear too much for their safety to chance even acknowledging a schizophreniac, let alone communicating with one.
- Discrimination: Here, the mannerisms are more physical than anything. I still mumble to myself – but it is more subdued and less aggressive. I move my limbs in a sluggish manner, I limp, I hang my lip open, I move my head instead of my eyes. I’ve seen well dressed businessmen take up seats next to suspicious ethnic youths (the typical street-gang type), who would rob them if given the chance, instead of sitting next to me – what they call ‘a retard.’
- Disgust: Sometimes, the above two do not completely work. Some person who is too tired to stand or too open minded to discriminate will attempt to sit next to me, regardless of the circumstances. They may not talk to me, but I cannot risk anything. I pull out both Fear and Discrimination in this instance, and lose complete regard for hygiene. First I drool, then I clear my upper sinus as loudly as possible, wiping it on my sleeve. If I feel like it, I might even then wipe my sleeve on their targetted seat. This never fails me.
It is a game – one which I enjoy… sometimes.
It’s a hard thing to do though – knowing that I really am truly isolating myself. People look upon me exactly as I intend for them to – with fear, with discrimination and with disgust. There is nothing but pure disdain. I am starved to speak and to touch, and yet here I am making sure it never happens – because I know it is what I must do. Sometimes I feel like saying just one word to them, punishing them for being the true creators of division in this world. One less of them, maybe there would be a bit less hurt and a bit more harmony. It’s a dream though – that wouldn’t stop anything. And this, may be their one vice in an otherwise compassionate life. They are probably mostly good people. I am not Karma, and even if I were, I would not be just. The game makes me pity those who I immitate and parody. However, I take some comfort in knowing that most do not realise the full implications of how society sees them. It is something I feel frequently. And it is not pleasant.
This is where, and when, I truly wish to disappear.
In this cold barren land that I call home
I’m just a man searching for the strength to walk alone.
