Oblivious Dissemination

On a one way street in an old neighborhood stands an unassuming house. Once inside you feel a heaviness as if negative forces have teamed up to disturb the souls whom dare enter. It wouldn’t be classified as haunted or over ran by unsettled souls from the past but there is a strong disturbance in the air, all of which is caused by the current occupants.

You head up the stairs to the front door and upon entering you are immediately overcome by what feels like a back room of a shabby thrift store. Piles of useless artifacts found at second hand stores mixed with multiple chairs and dressers, exercise equipment, glass vases, unopened bags, a car battery and a deluge of most anything you could imagine give the room a cavern like feel as you negotiate around the overwhelming amount of clutter.

You are met by an elderly woman who does her best to muster a welcoming smile, she is obviously defeated and helplessly embarrassed by her surroundings. She has a good heart but the years of her daughters reckless and selfish dumping of ‘great deals’ has taken it’s toll on her. It’s like the daughter simply shits all over the place with items that bring her temporary joy but have no substance and no place in the house. The old lady is showing signs of age and her health has declined but the feeling of no control over her own house has hurt her the most. There is a love/hate relationship between the mother and daughter and so, so many things unsaid have caused them to just simply exist together. This along with the enormous heaps of crap everywhere has created a very dark and gloomy vibe.

Visiting the house is tough on the soul as it’s very hard to witness the dark fog of frustration and despair that seeps throughout the entire home and it’s contents. Visits by other family members are kept short as to salvage their sanity and to minimize the pain the people and environment have created. It’s not that they wouldn’t like to stay and visit more but it is just too much as the vortex would swallow them and their sanity.

The mother and daughter have lost all respect for each other, neither can communicate anything on a healthy level as to break down the walls they have between them. It seems the daughter is simply waiting for her mother to die. They argue, they yell but never say or do anything that would help the situation, all hope seems to have vanished between them. The mother holds on to tiny threads of pseudo faith which helps her to somewhat survive, it’s not living it’s pure survival at this point.

The daughter brought home a chicken, not from the store but an actual real live chicken! As the weather got cold she let the chicken stay inside the house, she was proud of how she cared for this animal as it strutted around the home shitting everywhere as it wandered. You really couldn’t find a better (or worse) metaphor for the situation in this house. The chicken has since died, all that is left are the two alive ghosts that still live there.