Hi. When I created this website / blog, I had always intended to write blog posts and I never did. Probably because I had livejournal and nobody read it, I had Myspace and nobody read that. Keeping a “journal” of sorts is something that I have always thought was a great thing to do, especially with my numerous musical projects and bands that I would personally like to keep a history of. But what is history? A miserable little pile of historical texts? Well… I suppose it is. Anyway, I am being stalked and taunted by a deer and it is really starting to get to me. I have deer-related paranoia and it is clawing away at my sanity.
I fully expect you to listen to that while reading… Over the last 2 days, I have been stalked and/or taunted by a flippant deer in my back yard when I go out for a nice, calm sit on my patio. I like to go out and sit despite the frosty temperatures in the 40s and a wind chill that makes it seem even colder. I stare down at the city lights and watch the train go by, tooting its horn which is audible seemingly throughout the entire city. Slightly farther into the distance I can see highway 22 on the hillside, and beyond that, trees, and the horizon. Behind me as I sit is my darkened yard full of high grass, branches, an old dilapidated shed, and the forest.
Yesterday I came out for my sit, gazed up into the yard as I usually do due to my irrational paranoia — probably a result of living on my own for 4 months so far — and saw a demonic outline. It had 2 horns and did not seem to move. I adjusted my sight with the porch light blaring up into the yard but all I could see were its eyes reflecting back at me — deep red — and it did not move. I slowly backed back into my home and locked the door. Maybe half an hour later, I made the trek back out to the patio once again after peeking out the door like a coward. I did not see nor hear the deer, so I took it as a sign that the coast was clear, and firmly planted my behind on the steps leading up to the yard.
After a few moments, I heard a light ruffling directly behind me. I shot up and turned around, and I was face to face with this creature.
Obviously that’s not the same deer. I just found a picture of a scary deer from Google image search, but you get the general idea. In the heat of the moment, I called it a “fag” and it took off diagonally up into the neighbor’s yard, and into the forest behind their house. It hopped ever so victoriously, as if it had accomplished some great task. It was going to return to its tribe and inform them of how it freaked out a local fat man, causing him deer-related paranoia for who-knows-how-long. It hopped so carelessly away, with its cute little white tail flopping as it did. Those were the events of yesterday, and I was pretty unhinged after the experience, to say the least.
Today did not involve such a close encounter with the deer, yet the son of a gun was out there again. Ruffling around in the brush above the yard, making just enough noise to let me know that he was there… watching… menacingly. All of the joy of my late-night sitting out on the patio has been removed and destroyed by this one crazy deer. If I were a celebrity and it was a person doing this to me, the police would pick them up and escort them promptly to the local jail. But no, I’m not a celebrity, and this is one very disrespectful deer. I believe it wants to be made into deer sausage, or perhaps deer burger. Sadly, I have no way to hunt this deer. But believe me, if I had a hunting license and I saw this deer again, it would be on my dinner plate.
In conclusion… this deer is making me question my safety. Sure, I realize it is just a deer up there having fun. What if it isn’t? What if there is a killer up there just waiting to charge down here and wear my skin as a suit? What if it is a rabid bear instead of a deer? Or heck, a rabid deer? I saw how fast they are when the deer ran away yesterday. He crossed the backyards with about 3 hops — probably a 100 foot distance with only 3 HOPS. I question my safety and my sanity. I am crippled with fear and depression.