too young to stop too old to start

crossguards

The road melted under his tires like years through his hair line. His car sounded like it wanted to mate with a cougar and probably could. Every time she came back to his thoughts or he felt himself start to sober up he hit the gas even more. The wind pushed back the failing armies of his scalp but his glasses kept him cool. The desert passed through him tugging at his soul as he tried to run from everything. Nicholas Bartlett was 50 and fat and he hated it almost as much as he hated everything else. The sun danced through the sky and scorched away his thoughts. Beside him was a still half signed divorce paper. He was hoping the wind would suck it up and out of his life but the bastard thing just kept clinging to the seat. He grunted in annoyance and dropped the gas to the floor. The ‘65 Cadillac roared displaying its true desires for some sweet sweet cougar lovin’. Ahead of him held as much hope as behind him and he was having a hard time deciding where to go. Nick decided on not deciding. He checked the fuel gauge which promised three quarters of a tank worth of stalling. Much more then he needed to get to vegas. From there sell the car and die between the tits of some cocktail waitress. This plan was lusciously attractive to him as he pondered what her name would be. When a man plans his death there is a certain peace the universe affords him. Or perhaps it’s the release of any concerns. or simply a surge of dopamine into the brain telling you it’s all going to be ok. But regardless of what ever universal or societal or mental ramifications come to you, nothing absolutely nothing, disrupts your reverie like slamming into a naked man who wandered into the road.

     The car swerved and eventually pulls to a stop in a hail of dust and profanity. The cougar call being blue balled doing nothing for the situation. Nicholas stepped out of the car visibly shaken as he looks at the now blood soaked patch of ground behind him. There with decided dents in his body lay a naked man around his mid 30s. But despite what every medical text book and crime drama would tell you. He was remarkably unhurt. To say he was unhurt would be a literal thing in this case as his body was literally knitting itself back together. Nicholas’ eyes were trying as hard as they could to get wider and wider as he watched this reverse dissection in front of him. The man uttered a guttural choking noise as his throat put itself back together.

“ah what the fuuuuuuuck OOOWWW” he finally managed to say. Nicholas’ body was furiously debating on whether to throw up pee or run. Eventually it settled on a combination of all three. The naked former victim of vehicular negligence watched this spectacle with bewilderment and slight disgust. His confusion would come from the sense of undeath that was currently chaining him to the world. Being stripped from the afterlife is a bit like being born. Sans the spankings of course. This fact would soon break the heart of the naked pseudo-victim. The fact that his heart was quite literally broken would make sure that he didn’t care about that.

And some dead fuck…

Why can’t I tell you you’re beautiful? Why can’t I just ask you to talk for a while? Oh I know why! Because you scare the living fuck out of me.

Hammer

Angelina Morrison looked exactly like what you thought she might. If you thought she might look like miss Marlboro’s home country queen for 3 years running. She had the big hair big smile perky but non obtrusive breasts and accent that made you both erect and yearn for mom’s home cooking. She had worked for First municipal bank for 2 years now and was very pleasant to the customers. Had plenty of time between the beauty pageants and the sheer hours dealing with clients to perfect her fuck you smile. Telling people they simply had no money was a hazard of the job. She didn’t relish it but it was something that had to be done. Besides if they needed money so bad they should get jobs that’s what it says in the bible right? So when he approached her with hood low over his head she was met with a low level of fear and confusion.

“I need you to empty the safe and the cash drawers into as few bags as you can” he said with a low rumble to his voice.

“I already pushed the silent alarm and you should know with out a weapon I don’t have to do a damn thing you say” she replied secretly deciding to join the N.R.A after this.

“that won’t be a problem either way” he replied as the counter separating the two of them exploded.

Special Agent Michael Deveraux drove down the sleepy southwestern town trying to find a radio station that wasn’t playing carrie underwood. He finally settled on npr and turned a right. He immediately saw where he was going and why. The Municipal national bank seemed to be hosting a police and fire convention in its parking lot. He pulled to the side where a uniformed officer approached the vehicle to tell him to clear out. One flash of his badge and the officer immediately straightened up looking slightly embarrassed. Michael had dealt with enough speeding tickets in his life that he loved this moment every time it happened.

“So what’s happening here officer?” He said as calm/matter of factly as he could.

“bank robbery it appears sir”

“is the perp in custody”

“no sir”

“escaped or dead”

“you should see for yourself sir please follow me.”

they walked toward the bank where Michael took note of the apparent destruction. The first thing that drew his eye was the vault door. an ordinary looking heavily armored door that would have not drawn any attention what so ever if it was not lying in the middle of the parking lot.

“did they blow the vault”

“no sir demolitions estimates the explosives needed to do that would do significant structural damage to the building”

“so what happened to it”

“wait til you see the inside”

They crossed under the yellow police tape crossing the door and inside it looked like a warzone had made a deposit. The teller counters were all smashed to splinters the lobby had rubble all over the place. and the vault was very clearly missing a door and apparently been emptied out.

“as you can see it’s a real fuck fest here but that’s not the weird part”

“enlighten me then to what the weird part was”

the officer points to the roof where a single hole roughly twice the size of a man is.

“supposedly that’s where he made his escape”

 

broken glass overture

I want to do this I want this.

thinking about you and smoking cigarettes. Letting your face curl into ash around me and smiling in my tears and blinking away my rage. Wish you were here would strangle you with my hugs. Not going to let you go  but HAVE to put you away. Nothing left to bleed or cry any way. I’m sorry for my part…fuck you for yours.

sponge required you will be provided with spoon

The ships engines clicked once. It was the singular sound that dragged William Briggs out of slumber. They didn’t usually click at least not this early in the morning. He got up and examined the temp gauge. “Everything’s normal” it said. Which was odd since it usually only listed numbers. Will checked again and this time it only said normal numbers. He shook his head and walked back to his desk where he tried to fall asleep again. He was successful but it meant he sleapt through the ships power plant going critical and thus detonating. Will awoke with a start and was immediately confused. For one the engineering deck was decorated in a green and yellow motif and he was surrounded in a…well…no motif. For seconders he was cold but he knew rather then felt it. And finally he was surrounded by vacuum where normally there was cramped space quietly humming. William was not having the best start of things. He continued to float as it were in place and marvel at the vast nothingness where his employers ship had used to be. The only thing more startling then the sudden presence of nothing was the equally sudden presence of something. Or someone. A light tap on his shoulder caused him to cry out which in turn caused him to begin to drift away slowly. “Sorry sorry” said the incorporeal being in front of him smiling like he was trying very hard to remember what smiling was. “Didn’t try to startle you but…well there you had to go and be startled, so really it’s only half my fault I think you should own up to your half of the events in question and…” “sorry?” Said william still confused and equally still, drifting away. “Forget it mate it happens. So here you are or rather there you are and here I am” “who are you?” Inquired William. “Oh see now thats not a helpful question for you to be asking” while william figures out his question, it should prove prudent to add for reference purposes here, what the new person looks like…”hey no nope none of that” said the visitor. “I don’t really look like anything anyway” the visitor added triumphantly. “Yes you do you I know exactly what you look like you’re…” added William but was cut off by the visitor saying. “Oh you only say that because you can see me” “wha of but you guh what the hell is going on” stammering william finally realizing how truly strange his situation was. “Now that’s a slightly better question, a bit broad for this situation but you’re trying” said the visitor. They floated in silence for a bit until Visitor got bored and began humming a slight tune. “Actually it’s the Bavarian national anthem” he said matter of factly with a smug self satisfied grin. Visitor glared at nothingness and continued to float along with William as he puzzled out the current affairs. “Am…am I…dead?” He asked finally screwing up his courage. “Well that entirely depends on many things” said visitor. “Are you, or were you ever, alive?” William turned and stared at Visitor before blurting out ” of course I was!” We were on a ship heading for Neumasia!” “I…I fall asleep and next thing I know I’m here!” “I’m dreaming that must be it come on Will wake up!” He slapped himself a few times or rather tried to but his hands just passed through his own head as though it were not even there. Staring in mock horror at his own translucent digits he looked up at Visitor pleading for answers. Visitor scratched the back of his head and cast around for simple answers. When he could find none he shrugged. “You uh well that is to say your physical body in reality…did not…um…maintain physical consistencey due to an uncontrolled thermonuclear reaction from within the primary tralion reactor of your ship” Wide eyed Will could only stammer. “You mean i’m…dead?” “Well see dead is such a linear way of looking at things. I prefer um different.” Will was lost to the horror of everything. In a moments attempted escape he recalled the first time he went aboard the ship. “No no wait don’t” called out Visitor but it was too late. William was over loaded and he knew it. But this had been the fourth trip each taking 12 minutes between unloading his gear and stocking engineering. He was tired and bursting between home and mari court system always took it out of him. He hated burst drive engines. Sliding between reality and sub always seemed like a questionably moral decision. Plus he got completely whoozy when he did. William was so lost in the moment he almost didn’t notice his own presence. barely able to see over his bundle he noticed that he failed to notice the long girder being carried in front of him. “Look out” he cried yo nowhere in particular. William shifted in time to see the potentially head hanging girder and side stepped around and under it. Not to be out done his head in turn collided with a softer yet equally hard head of Larissa Hill. He scowled as he tubbed the stars out of his eyes only seconds before getting completely lost in her…William reverted to his point in space with a lurch a giant flaming cockroach sitting in front of him. It was smoking a palm tree and singing reverse show tunes. William knew this despite the fact that reverse plays would not be invented for a few centuries and the fact that palm trees had been extinct for 200 years or so. The cockroach looked him up and down for a second. “Sup” it said and promptly vanished in a whiff of logic and methane. Visitor appeared before him looking panicked and harassed. “Don’t remember anything!” He said slightly turning purple. “What? Why?” Replied William as his senior prom began to form around him before a traffic cone danced with a tiny reptillian ballerina in front of him causing the whole scene to fade.

I’m sorry

I’m angry. Sometimes I feel so angry it’s like all the lights in me have gone out. It’s like those flames burn so hot they seared my tear ducts closed. And no matter how much I don’t want to I’m going to just drown in the shit and the stupidity and the pointlessness of it all. Hope feels like something so far in the past I can’t remember the taste of it. And I just want to cry. Cry for everything, for loss, cry for hunger, cry for john Lennon getting shot, cry for einsteins disappointment. For spilled milk, for my friends who can’t get married, for shepard. Just cry it all out. But…nothing. just the cold silence. I need a drink.

Occasional thoughts

I loved watching her. I felt like i could for eternities. She paints worlds that i could scarcely begin to imagine. It was odd what I find myself remembering. Pale knuckles, curly hair, full smile. Like looking through the memories are too big for my eyes. But i know its all paint all just washing over what was with what i am. Casting a voice to the past or pissing in the wind brings about just as much luck. Gonna say it anyway. Never mattered in the long run but hurts all the same. I love you…you wonderfully heinous person. I I gotta go.

on passings

crashing waves call you home,

you smelled our hearts and sharpened our lives,

your touch can never be replaced but you’ve moved on,

calling now to say I miss you,

miss calling you,

missed your calling,

be good and take care of the one’s we can’t reach,

keep them warm and happy,

show the love we came to know so well.

thank you for all you have done, good night, travel well

(Laniotpo) eltiT

I want to talk about someone I know. He’s been a good friend for years and it has been my esteemed honor to call him such. Every time I try to tell him about a story idea I have he asks me why. Why are you telling this tale? Why those characters? Etc. Etc. And this is nearly endlessly frustrating, to the point where on more then one occasion I have tried to choke him with my mind. See, to segue a second, when I was younger I struggled with the whole futility debate in philosophy. I could see that everything was pointless and therefore was no real reason to be attached to anything. Why eat? You’ll only be hungry later. It took me a VERY long time to realize that the appeal of a thing had to be generated. Either taking joy in the doing, or in the conclusion. Anyway getting back to the reason for the post. He was making me dig deeper on my stories. Examining the depths of character motivation and evolution. Which has begun to serve me to no end. At times it feels as the older I get the longer the list of people I need to thank gets as well. So consider this an official recognition.(and I’m sober so no waffling on this) I hope everyone gets an opportunity like mine. To have someone who challenges and empowers them like I have been. Thank you always. Ok that said, back to work.