A Heated Phone Call About The Television (Part 2)

Ringing Round Before Lyssa

When arriving home tonight a couple of people were given a call but only as appetizers for the real meal, Lyssa. I called Ace to inquire about Byblos, I rang Tyler to see if he wanted to head off and I tried ringing Keith but his phone rung out. Lyssa was the first person I tried calling in which her phone was busy and the last person I called tonight.

Lyssa answered the phone tonight and once again, she waited for me to bring up the topic of the television. My words came out calm at first but I knew that I wanted to let out some steam because I was sick of Lyssa running me around, telling me nothing and trying to confuse me with her lack of planning or agreeing with my plans.

Asking Too Much Apparently

Because I had it all mapped out and I made the suggestions of when Lyssa could pay because she didn’t have her own tongue, she thought I was pushy for the money. Hey, I’m only doing Lyssa a favor. I’m not getting any benefit out of this and if anything it only sounded as if I was constantly asking Lyssa what the plans would be because she never made them clear.

Like already noted, last night I only asked Lyssa two questions about the money and from that she seemed to get angry and think I was being pushy. The same thing happened tonight as I asked Lyssa why she didn’t take her savings card to work and from there she started yelling her reason at me. This pissed me off because Lyssa now has a knack of yelling at me for no real reason, just for yelling.

Lyssa had the nerve to tell me that it was my fault that I didn’t get Keith’s money today and that made me flip. Yeah, it was my fault that Lyssa can’t follow some simple suggestions and that she can’t get off her ass to plan something for herself. It’s my fault that Lyssa forgot to bring her keycard to work with her because she was emptying out her whole bag the night before (probably purposefully misplacing it because of me). Yeah, it was my fault alright, my fault that I ever believed Lyssa could be mature enough and independent enough to pay me without fucking me up.

In truth, if I let Lyssa pay me at her own will then I know from past experiences that Lyssa would never have paid me. She kept saying to me “Why don’t you stop asking me for the money and being so pushy” but I knew that if I remarked “Well then I’ll leave it up to you to plan how much to pay me, when to pay me and how to get the money to me,” I never would have received a single payment or call.

Leaving It Up To Her

Lyssa is feeble-minded when it comes to these acts and it goes to say that only a simile can represent my point so here we go… Leaving the responsibility of Lyssa paying me in her own time would have been like allowing her another chance to give me a head job whenever she felt the need or she felt I needed it. Countless nights I would wait with anticipation, give helpful hints and literally do everything for Lyssa in sexual tones but would never get my reward, not even a hint of recognition by words or actions upon it.

Therefore, from my past experiences of Lyssa never living up to her promise or stipulations, I knew not to leave the planning in Lyssa’s hands because she’s hopeless with almost anything that involves formulation. So there you have it, it’s my fault that Lyssa wasted my whole lunchtime because she forgot to bring her keycard and it’s my fault that Lyssa snobbed me off to have lunch with Bronte, probably having a big laugh about me on the way down. Why do I let Lyssa run me down so, why act such the vulnerable tool to her hate-mongering, why such the bitch one is…

Where I Rank

Having seen Lyssa’s ugly head rear moreso in the last couple of days, I have come to a conclusion about the way she treats me. It has been looming in my mind for days but never have I a metaphor or a simile conjured to explain this predicament. I believe that on Lyssa’s chain of being in which she treats with respect and dignified nature, I am somewhere down there between dirt and Mallory, no, I’m even lower than Mallory.

Lyssa treats me with the utmost disrespect and I believe it all comes from the mothering of Penelope and the new influences of Ralf. Lyssa has always had the bitch in her, that’s why I couldn’t even think of mixing her with my friends because I knew how different she was from them. Lyssa herself thought she was too divine for communal with my friends as she hardly wanted to be around them. We’re from two different worlds.

Lyssa barks at me continuously when we are on the phone, our conversations are usually dusty and coldly silent because of our loathing for each other and I am not treated as her equal but as her undermined underling. There is no way to really justify where I am on Lyssa’s list of respect but I believe I am right on the bottom at the moment, with no remorse, care, respect, love or even will for my well being. She has nothing. Even Imad is above me as Lyssa told me she loves to hate Imad and in truth, I think a bit more than that.

You know that I could get even with Lyssa so easy by using a counterweight to destroy her as I did when I showed her my night club clothing but why stoop down to her level. It’s best to fall in love from the heart or fall in love all over again, from the heart and from hope. When that television is back in my hands Lyssa’s life will be completely oblivious to me and that underling feeling I have will be abolished.

The Hound Dog Jacket

In Lyssa’s mind she already had the television so parting with fifty dollars would have seemed like a waste of money and her energy. To Lyssa, that money could have been better spent than on paying me back for something. I still can’t believe how Lyssa thinks I was being pushy for money when she took the cake by buying her leather jacket from Hound Dog and having her dad send her up a cheque to reimburse her for what money she didn’t have that week.

What’s more, Lyssa wears that Hound Dog fake leather jacket everyday and in truth, I think it looks ugly and makes her look like the straggly dog she is. Her blonde hair in a scruffy ponytail, the re-growth showing in spurts, her face covered with makeup to show her fake beauty, it’s ridiculous and behind it all she’s nothing. I mean, who loves themselves so much to fake tan their legs when they go out in a skirt, buys hair extensions to have girls touch her fakeness, pretend to be a Lesbian with Penelope when she is completely against it.

Who dyes their hair blonde each week, has a makeover in the same span of time, wastes at least $50 a week on makeup and covering her face up with harsh moisturizers in the advent of looking beautiful and who but Lyssa could love herself so much and boast about it in arguments. I used to think Lyssa was so beautiful and so intelligent and right for me. Now I think that made up beauty is on the outside to conceal how normal she really looks.

All those manicures and getting her hair dyed, if it wasn’t for that Lyssa would just be another nothing with a decent pair of breasts. My conclusion, on the outside Lyssa is beautiful but on the inside there is nothing but rotten disgust that sends reproach to criticizing blame.

Keith Rings Back

Now that the scolding is out of the way and the bitch is starting to condescend I shall rise above it with chronology and other events of today. Firstly, Keith just called back a couple of minutes ago (the time being 9:20 p.m.) because I had called him and in our conversation I asked if he would like Binh to buy the television instead.

From there I just told him how I was sick of dealing with Lyssa because she pissed me off and with that we agreed to head over her house and get back the television. The sooner I can forget about Lyssa the better my transition can be to move on with the rest of my life, as I have already tried doing. With that conversation being the last attachment to my night let me begin from the start, chronology.