An unfortunate side effect to growing old, apart from losing skin-elasticity in important areas such as one’s butt, balls and breasts (though rarely all three on the same person), is the loss of sanity for some individuals. It is truly saddening, but also sadistically entertaining, to watch once sweet old ladies transform into fearsome caricatures with unbecoming personalities not unlike the Crow, from the movie 'The Crow'.
The luckier ones merely start losing their memories, and are saved from the dreary reality of their depressing, lonely lives. Each day is like a fresh adventure for these guys. “Wow, this place is such a dump! I must have landed in some alternate reality from a possessed Ouija board or something, and must now embark on a quest to find my way back to my Beverly Hills mansion and loving family! Who most definitely did not abandon me here!”They spend the day exploring this fascinating shack, telling themselves how lucky it is that this is only a weird parallel universe and how they would die before they willingly live here. Following morning, repeat.
There are also less fortunate ones, like my neighbour, who have completely and utterly embraced the methods and ways of a paranoid schizophrenic. This weak minded old hussy has allowed herself to listen to the voices in her head, the voices that tells her how horrifically vicious I am, and how much I enjoy mutilating her plants. Because of course there is nothing I love more than to take a lighter to her leafy shoots and lovingly singe the essence out of those eyesores. Those very voices whisper to her “Your own negligence and failure to water your own plants can’t be the reason why they’re all dying! Plants don’t need water to survive, they need constant obsessive, paranoid thoughts sent from their caring owner, and you’re nothing if not full of suspicion. Flowers thrive on that, babydoll. You sweet, beautiful, wrinkled little cute thing, you.”
Now that she’s cleared herself of all wrongdoing, the next logical step is to blame me, naturally. Cause if I don’t look like the type that goes around killing old ladies’ plants, then I don’t know what the hell I look like. After years of accusations, Crazy Plant Lady has finally decided to up the stakes, and invested in two surveillance cameras at her front door. You heard me right. Crazy Plant Lady’s not fucking around with her shrubbery. She will fucking survey the shit outta you as you mess around with her half-dead parsley, and finger herself as she watches you do it or something. Oh don’t act disgusted, there’s got to be a voyeurism angle to the whole surveillance camera business, you and I both know that. One of her camera is pointed at her abused and thirsty twig, and the other at her front door. Because of course you would break into her house and gloat after destroying her plants, wouldn’t you? Kill her poor plant and leave its remains scattered on her bed, that’ll show her who’s the crazy one.
One thing the sweet old dear particularly enjoyed doing was to wait for us to leave the house, then ambush us with her barrage of Buddhist chanting as we pass her door. I believe she has fashioned herself the heroine of a demon-centred film, and is trying to exorcise the evil out of my family. It doesn’t help that my father has the worst patience ever when someone tries to exorcise him, the guy just can’t handle it. So in perhaps the most misguided attempt to convince her of how free of demons he is, he screams at her for being such a self-righteous holy bitch and slams the front gate five times, emphasizing each slam with a new derogative slur. I guess we really can't blame her for likening us to the more Satanic version of the Addams family.
Perhaps that was exactly what she was looking for. For a record breaking 3 months, Crazy Plant Lady was the nicest, most pleasant old darling you’ve ever met. Some people are just sick like that.
Now excuse me while I sharpen the scissors. My neighbour got new bougainvilleas.
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