A poem for Halloween

The Time for Dancing

By: Jeff Lee

The moon is high and bright in the sky

The shadows skip ink out of still corners sticking to corners and steps

The winds race like through the trees invisible to the human eye

The oldest of places spring new life from their depths

It is the night when the vale is thin and brittle like books of paper

It is the time of horror and frights

It is the moments when breaths beneath the ground are whispered

The ethereal clock has come round striking the bells of Hallows eve night

There are devils in the drinking water

There are wolves behind every lingered howl

There is excitement in the eyes of every son and daughter

There are pointed teeth shadowed by every pulled tight cowl

Doors sit waiting for answer

Small bags sit ready to be filled

Tiny hearts beet faster and faster

Yelling not for blood, but for candy to be spilled

There are treats bowled, covered, and branded

There are tricks rolled, yoked, and rung

There are smiles hidden behind masks eager to see what will be handed

There are snickers behind bushes as endeavors of malice are stung

But still after the night has run out of races

And all the footfalls have grown still

There lurks a dark lingered kiss of ghostly paces

There walk the stories remembered ever dark and foreboding with ill

Now is there time to run wild

Tis the hour for the other siders to return

Once all the costumes are no longer hung from the form of a child

The candle of Samhain begins to burn  

They come forth from their graves of long slumber

Walking out to dance before the moon

Looking for partners to hold hands or seek plunder

Knowing for sure but hoping the music’s end is not soon

As the dawn begins his chance of the night

They bow deeply to their partners

The spectral forms seem more hollow and light

And lay down in their graces ready for another years slumbers

Those mortals that came to watch the dead dance their ball

Gather up their food and their libations

Pining back their clocks and their shawls

The keep wonder in their hears at the mystery of life’s machinations. 

The first page of No More Sad Stories: Ricardd's Tale A short story/ work in progress

Night settled around the old manor house pushing down upon the roof causing the creaks to ripple across the rooms giving the residents the impression that the dwelling, like them, was ready to stretch its bones at rest. Right around now the air got real thin as one half of the world breathed deep with the setting of the sun and the other half gasped with the beauty of the coming dusk. Ricard looked out the window to the dimming light running up and down the street jumping shadows to find a lasting hold in spaces it no longer had right to call its own. It was better at night he told himself, the patrols only went out at night if the sirens came, and tonight he hoped there would only be silence in the wind.

The view from the top floor of the four story manor house could be off putting to some, but for Ricard at this height he could see each end of the block. A vantage point like this was not worth giving up unless it was by necessity or force. His life, the life of his family may be one of constant readiness even while sleeping though on a night like this the world seemed to accept him in peace rather than refuse him like riot. Ricard reached down for the canteen of water by his foot noticing how dry his mouth had become. The watch took precedent over all other needs and so he tended to forget himself as a person so that he could remember what was lurking behind the now present shadow.

The air had chilled the canteen causing the metal part of the container not covered by the leather straps to sting at Ricard’s finger tips. This lone bite was enough to rouse his mind back to the now, making his eyes focus back to the task at hand and away from the thoughts of might be. Tonight there would be no sirens he resolved, tonight there would be only a bed, his family, and dreams of nights no longer needing a watch. Those dreams were the best, those dreams were the ones he wished he could record and share with his family.

“One day old man, one day we will watch only the dying of the sun for enjoyment that after some darkness the light would once again be there…,” Ricard spoke softly to himself. A wiry smile hung like an old picture moved to often to ever sit right upon any wall. He gathered his senses about him again and tilted forward in his chair. He took two small drinks fo water nd placed the canteen back upon the wooden floor. His eyes never breaking from the horizon. For now there was only the watch, a place too real for smiles or dreams.

A Silent Prayer for the Last of Us

A Silent Prayer for the Last of Us

By Jeff Lee

A silent prayer for the last of us

The few who have not yet been freed

A silent prayer for the last of us

Those few that are blind to the things they will not see

A silent prayer for the last of us

Whose numbers are dwindling still

A silent prayer for the last of us

Who may yet push back from life’s table with bellies filled

A silent prayer for the last of us

The ones still enshrouded in pain

A silent prayer for the last of us

The ones who have forgotten how to make it back home again

A silent prayer for the last of us

Those shackled by the doubts of their mind

A silent prayer for the last of us

Who will not are not looking for what they need to find

A silent prayer for the last of us

Who brake under the pressure like falling rocks

A silent prayer for the last of us

Who scream out in pain for relief but lack voices with which they must talk

A silent prayer for the last of us

Those burning with longing for the land of honey and cream

A silent prayer for the last of us

The few that are tormented so much they feel pain even while they dream

A silent prayer for the last of us

Who need only be shown the way

A silent pray for the last of us

Who once awakened will continue this pray some day

A Dark Heart...

In the many years I have spent wondering the earth in search of stuff and junk I often come back to the ideas of light and darkness. These concepts are common place in the average person’s understanding of time, good verse evil, and iconic yammering of hope. For me I know now unlike I did when I was younger that I have what I call a heart of darkness. There is a part of me at the core that is dark, not brooding like this month’s movie heartthrob, but a flowing current of darkness like an oil spill across a white snow covered plane. To note this is not just my own understanding this is something I have had several people (including family members) tell me when they try to relate their view of me to me. I came to understand that when people get this impression of me it was one coated in a negative air. This of course stems from the ideology that darkness = evil, menacing, and/or demonic. To me when I look at that place in my heart I do not fear because I feel that we as a people have been told to fear the dark as if it will creep into our homes to steal away our very souls. So what I am getting at in a roundabout way is why do we associate darkness with evil?

The idea that darkness equates to evil comes from many different sources. First of which would be social stigma taught to us as kids either through the retelling of verbal history or through religious schooling. Honestly when was the first time you were told that dark things were evil? Was it through a ghost story told around a camp fire, or possible via a bible story which talked about the temptation of sin which clings to dark thoughts or actions? But really is it just that idea of fear that breeds this understanding, or is there something genetically coded into us that says if it comes from the darkness you must fear it because it is evil. Having studied a some anthropology and world philosophy I can tell you that in most of the major religious practices, either olden or of today, there is a breaking of light and dark which commonly happens at the very beginning. In the book of Genesis it says that “God said let there be light and he saw it was good, God separated the light from the darkness calling the light day and the darkness night.” In the Greek mythology it says that the world was pulled from the void of chaotic darkness that was. Even science tells us that the universe was nothing and then either through the big band or strings or whatnot there was an explosion of activity which lit up all existence leading to the point at which I am writing this. You could say that the common point in all of these ideas is that at one point there was nothing but darkness and then from it, or in it, or because of it there was the creation of light. To me that would say that both light and darkness are of the same stuff just two halves to a greater whole.

It is known that without the light of the sun all life on this plane would die off. Even though we are not like the plants which live off the sun we breathe the air they produce when doing so. Also if the sun were to die out the ambient temperature would drop far below zero and there is not enough blankets or fire wood to keep any amount of space warm. So with that  said one might draw the conclusion that because at a cellular level we need the sun to live or bodies create an image in our minds which relates to the idea that darkness = death which is something most people fear all the time. Just like the fight or flight response which kicks in when we are threatened, this same reaction could be the cause of the rationalized learned behavior of seeing darkness as an agent of evil intentions. I would say that my dark heart is not anything genetic, but it could be that I fear death a bit less than others because biologically (due to my childhood onset diabetes) my body is on the verge of death every moment of every day. Viewing this understanding one could say that because I came to terms with my own mortality at a very young age I was less likely to cling to the light because I did not need it as others do to stay alive. I know some might argue that my view of diabetes is incorrect, and yes they have a right to it, but just as much right as I have to my view stated here. Either or to me it makes some sense.

Moving on to my second point, I offer the idea that society has given us the fear of the dark like it gave us the idea that fat people are ugly. Think to yourself about how many scary movies you have watched, or books you have read, or even new stories you have heard about in which some heinous act happens at night in the dark. There are countless examples of this no matter where you turn, but honesty some of the worse crimes of humanity happened in the light of day. The holocaust was done during both the day and the night, openly without regard or any effort to hide it. Both attacks on America took place during the day. The crusades called for a holy war to bring the light of Christian ideals to the holy lands and wipe clean the dark stain of Muslim occupation. I say the crusades because it was not a holy war it was battles fought for money and trade routes which kept both kings and the church in power for centuries. On the converse of this yes, there have been horrid things done at night by both men and women. But did they do them at night because it was the darkness that called to them or was it more to the effect that they were less likely to get caught? Jack the Ripper hunted ladies of the evening (as a way to hide the illegitimate marriage of Prince Albert to a whore) which drew people into their homes as soon as the sun went down like he was made of shadow only able to strike at night. Also when you look to the horror stories told to kids or adults they all take place at night because it gives an air of dread, but again I am sure I could scare the pee out of you with a story taking place in an open field during a bright sunny day with bunnies and trees that grow nothing but jelly beans. The fact of the matter is that we are told and then reminded that things go bump in the night so we must fear the darkness around us. Again I say nay, and offer the idea that you could just as well get bumped in the day just as you could in the night.

Lastly I say that for me it is the darkest of heroes that are the best of all we have to look up to. Hellboy written by Mike Mignola is for me one of the greatest heroes in the history of comic books. He was born to bring about the end of the world, the son of a human witch and a demon, and given for his right hand the key to unlock the old gods which would destroy the world. His whole purpose for being is to chase the light from the world and plunge us into darkness forever, but due to how he was raised and who he chose to be he fought the darkness and came to terms with it. In his own words he would say “I don’t care, and I am indifferent to the idea.”  Does it mean that again light is better than darkness, no it shows that those with a dark heart can do just as much good as those claiming to be of the light. Another example would be Batman created by Bob Kane. Batman chose to take up the mantle of darkness, shrouding himself in it so that he could strike fear into the hearts of bad guys. He took his own darkness (caused by the death of his parents) and turned it into a weapon for justice. He is even referred to as the Dark Knight, but does that mean he is evil?  Again no, he just used what he had and made it positive. Finally I will cover Luke Skywalker created by George Lucas and played by Mark Hamill in the movie Star Wars, who fought against the dark side of the force. You may say “hey he fights the dark, so that proves it is evil.” I would say no, Luke was able to defeat his father, a dark lord of the Sith, because he understood that it was neither light nor dark that was better. It was the balance of the two that made him as powerful as he was. He had anger, and love which were said to lead to the dark side, but he also had logic and compassion which were aspects of the light side. It was this balance that gave him his strength, not the separation of the two. All and all each one of these heroes carried with them a heart of darkness, but in their own way they found strength in it and used it to be just as good as any light bearer.

Now finally if you are still with me (and I did not lose you when I broke into comics book heroes) I will say what is the point of making this statement? To me the point is that I am who I am and accept the fact that in me I have a dark heart. This aspect of me does not make me evil, or sadistic, or twisted. It only makes up a part of who I am, and if I did not accept it, or tried to fix it would I not be doing harm/ evil to myself in the process? I use this part of me in many ways, most of all in understanding and relating to the world around me. I also use it to write both creatively and honestly so that I am speaking with a voice that is my own. I will not fight against your ideas on light and dark, but I will point out that in the color black,  the color we all associate with darkness, there is every color that we know no the complete absence of color like white is. If you don’t believe me then take a moment to draw a solid black circle on a white piece of paper with a sharpie. Once you do that take some rubbing alcohol and drop one or two drops into the center of that circle. What you will see is the bleeding of all the colors contained within that black spot. It’s actually a really cool experiment and a cheap way to dye clothes, point being that even in the color we associate with darkness there is every other color that we would say is light and good. I may pump darkness through my veins, but in that blood there is also the understanding of good even without the light to justify it. 

Wording at the cost of what?

For a matter of consideration I throw out the idea that we as a society are too far to the left on shortening the meaning/ wording on phrases. I am not referring to the common speak of teenagers of the day which cut out as many letters as possible to save on texting fees. I am however referring to the practice of signs once very clear with precise wording now being cut down to minimal levels of words to save money. For my proof I give you the below picture of the sign which hangs over every bathroom door in my office 

As you can see the sign’s intended message is met clearly allowing one to infer that employees are required to wash their hands. The viewer,having some understanding of society and a modicum amount of common sense, would see the sign’s location and infer that the washing it happening after an employee uses the restroom. The problem that I have with it is that due to either cost of space the message is shorted so that you have to think about it. Not that thinking is bad, but honestly you could go any direction with this if you where trying to be literal about it.

For instance whose hands are you washing? Do the employees wash their own or randomly grab someone and demand to wash their hands? I could see (through the clouded shroud of my own madness) roaming bands of my co-workers scouring the cubicles and offices snatching hands away from lunches, or phones, or at the very least the latest internet videos. The horror of it, as the madness progresses and we are left with the weaker of the techs screaming in pain as they try to struggle away from the paper cutter which has been modified to resemble a French revolution ear guillotine. Drawing more fear than the screams is the jangle of severed hands strung loosely via Ethernet cable around the necks of those strong enough to not be put before the blade. Eventually I would assume that rough exchange rates would be established based upon size or finger count, or attached jewelry which of course would lead to trading over the best food stuffs from the vending machines. Give or take the age of a hand I would give a guess that my own would go for a cookie ice cream sandwich with a soda or coffee on the side.

Moving on, another note about the sign is that is does not give a time frame of when the hand washing should be done. Do we do it after we use the bathroom? Maybe we do it before we go just in case you have to wipe and you blew your nose earlier in the day. Again the scenario that runs through my mind is a bunch of techies who do little or no cleaning around their work space given a pass to not wash their hands after use noting to themselves that they can just do it when they get home. Worse case we end up with a super germ which has been passed from gamer hands via keyboard via snotty wipe combined with cheetoes and code red and brough to a simmer with an office internal environment which lacks air conditioning. The hypothesized germ which I have named IT virus (short for internal terror) would most likely eat away at the part of the brain that signals complaints or idiotic yammering about emails not working, which for us as techs is fine but for our bosses it is a loss of revenue and finding a job right now is not cool.

Also leaving the time frame for washing open could lead to a subconscious response to wash hands at random times of the day, such as while riding a bike, or reading a book. In both cases you are going to end up with a bad trip and a loss of personal goods. Worse yet you could be having the sexy times with your partner and boom you have to wash your hands. That leads to awkward conversations about hygiene, smells and the overall loss of personal goods (as he or she smashes your things in reaction to your inability to explain why you had to wash your hands).

All and all I would say that the thought thread that developed when I first saw the sign was fun but unproductive. So I leave it to you to ponder. Should we cut back on wording for the sack of price or space only to end up making the already borderline insane guy begin planning a fair open trade exchange based on the length of say fingernails on the open market? 

Here is something that fell out of my head while I was supposed to be working...

I am 

By Jeff Lee

I am the darkness between the conscious mind and the unconscious mind

I am the madness at the end of genius

I am the three feet of water you could drown in

I am the fury just outside the eye of the storm

I am the last thing to eat in your pantry

I am the anti-hero unwilling to save your city

I am the long creak you hear before bed

I am the settling of your house after midnight

I am the movement racing out of your field of vision

I am the reason you cry as funerals

I am the fire licking at your heels

I am the blind eye you turn

I am the heart string plucked

I am the eroded landscape after a flood

I am the sadness that settles around your soul

I am the breaker of worlds

I am the shining light before you get hit

I am the cloud behind your silver lining

I am the void you gaze too deeply into

I am the anger reaped from battles sown

I am the frost that steals away your crops

I am the one person better suited for your dream job

I am the injustice in society

I am the malice laced truth of your lover’s words

I am everything you were told you could never be

I am at the end of letting loose

I am what you buried the backyard

I am the lacking of common sense

I am you in another universe

I am you with a evil goatee

I am the last words you speak before you die

I am freedom, so why don‘t you join me

I am waiting…

A review for War Zone

It has been said that love is a battle field, and if that is true then War Zone by Jesse Grillo is a better love story than Twilight. For the love this graphic, pulsating, comic bled from my bones is decently worth fighting for.

Is there a code of honor amongst thieves, is there glory at the end of a hitch, and is there only violence in the wind as all the fires of addiction burn low? These are just some of the questions I asked myself while reading War Zone. A story taken from the blood soaked, shell shocked, and ash covered pages of a dissertation on PTSD, War Zone relays a dark fueled tale of drugs, violence, and ethereal vengeance.

Written by Jesse Grillo, with art by David Brame, this comic sticks you in the aftermath of battles which have been won only to give further understanding to the ongoing war some solders carry back home. The art burns the pages with life vibrant and raw which shreds understanding to leave only wonder behind. The story in and of itself not only gives light to the skeletons in the closet but makes them dance as bullets fly. Both pieces stand tall with hard bold lines and strong words etched across each page.

 Look not to the horizon for salvation for it may only hold the next combatant, is just what this comic brings forth from its pages. As the story merges with the art you get the sense that a world won by war can only give you an addiction to peace. That peace of course comes with a price, one that can only be paid in blood.

Take a look at War Zone and I am sure you will find, as I did, that blood fallen on sand leaves an open wound everywhere else.

Check out the work of Jesse Grillo at http://www.bleedinginkproductions.com/

A challenge was issued...

A friend of mine, who himself is a writer, issued a challenge to a few others that are kin in aspirations of becoming legitimate writers. The challenge was to create the start of a new story that had three key features: it had to be one page, it had to be double spaced, and it had to have a hook. I came up with following I think that it met the requirements but only with the help of font sizing.

The Hunt

By Jeff Lee

                Stepping upon the top of the ridge the hunter’s eyes found that the beast’s path had fallen away through the brush. The monster’s long strides and clumsy movements up until now had given clear indication of its progression toward a small cloistered forest. Her skill as a tracker had not been tested seeming almost unneeded when she first came upon the new trail. Now looking down upon a dense cloister of trees and brush she was no longer sure of an easy day’s kill. Like the dusk now evident in sky her expectations too were darkening.

                The hunter gathered her pack about her shoulders and made her way into the lower edge of the wood. She skipped from one rill to another down the slope finding caution gathering in the wind which now harbored a gathering darkness. It was heavy and wet like the smell of dead wood, but lacking any physical form much a kin to a breeze in summer, easily known but never understood. She steadied her pace as she reached the slope’s bottom suddenly feeling a tingle at the back of her ear, a sound perchance, or a chill, or just the continued emanating whispered darkness. The tingle did nothing to quicken her escape from the area, and in converse it did nothing to expunge the thrill she sought looking down upon a fresh kill. It was just an ambient aura that settled upon the place, clinging to the any physical matter it could rest upon.

She pulled her bow, preparing herself for what may lay ahead. She trusted her aim and reflex to bring down whatever had led her here. But though reflexes could be honed the advantage she had in the open field above was not impeded by low hanging branches and looming shrubs. “Be ready now or be without dinner later,” her village guide would remind her. 

                Silent her footfalls danced between rock, bush and trunk making her way into the increasingly dense section of forest.  She gauged the foliage noting a small leaf newly covered in wet blood. She must on be the correct path for her heart was steady between the instinct to fight and the urge for flight. Her nerves caught it before her senses could, locking her muscles tight, steady in place. Her form stood frozen and beautiful in the dim light resembling a statue carved in ice; just a bright and fragile as such leaving no guard from wood hidden teeth that snapped closed around her waist. The darkness of night settled a hold at every angle of brush while the light now hidden was replaced with bright sounds of tearing flesh and screams hollow called from a ragged torn throat.   

“Silly girl, she knew nothing of the hunt,” slurped a voice from the gloom filled with the sickly sweet stench of drying blood.  

Bathroom Wishes

Sounds odd? You bet it does but it is really any stranger than some of the stuff other people do in the bathroom? We’ll yeah I know I have not explained anything about what a bathroom wish is, but when I get there I am hoping you will say “oh yeah, that’s not weird or strange, we’ll not as strange as me picking ingrown hairs from the back of my knee cap while singing Tiny Dancer by Elton John.” See now we are on the same page and I feel honestly we can progress as equally accounted individuals, if not please laugh all you like at my weird habit as it will give you wrinkles and make you look older, you old looking prune face….

Okay bad blood behind us moving on to the adventure, yes I am as sorry about what I wrote back there as the stuff you were thinking while you read it, fake hug, and off we go. So bathroom wishes, what are they, why do I make them, no it’s not a sexual thing. When I go in to use the restroom I find that when I sit down to make the business my mind is clearer and more likely to wonder to the things that I may want out of life. Not sure why my mind does this all I can rationalize is that I am relieved enough to give myself permission to want something bigger and grander than what I already have in life (again not a sexual thing…sickos). I because of this will get the idea in my head of go ahead and make your three wishes or one great wish, but make sure to be clear so that whatever magical creature is giving you this wish will understand and not hand you a twenty inch BIC (now you can laugh…that one was sexual). So to give you a lineup of some of the things I make when pondering my bathroom wishes for here are the top five that I have come up with.

5. To have all the powers of Superman

                Yes it has been a dream of mine to have all the powers of one of earth’s mightiest heroes Superman. Really when you think about who would not want to be able to fly, be super strong, super quickness, laser vision, ice breath, real parents who were dead so they could not call you on the weekend and ask you how to use the internet when you are trying to sleep (I love you Mom I do, by the way you are down to 3 tech calls). Well at least for most I would say yes to all of the above. This wish could cause problems because being diabetic I need insulin injections, so with the invulnerability of Superman I would need kryptonite tipped needles just to keep my injections going. Also with that much strength the whole world would be the same tinsel strength of tissue paper and I am pretty sure I don’t have the money to be replacing doors, computers, and people every other day due to not knowing my own strength. It is for these reasons that this wish makes number 5.

4. To have the jumper power from the movie Jumper.

I know believe me I know that movie in and of itself was bad. But the key thing to take away from it other than an acidic disappointment burning in the back of your throat is the awesome power in and of itself. To be able to look at a picture or think of a place you once were and bamf you are there would be awesome. Oh I have to use the restroom and I am at school which only has dirty gross bathrooms, bamf you are home and pooping without issue. Think of the crimes you could commit walk into a bank look at the vault and bamf in later got collect the loot or oh look a girls locker room which had the door open long enough for me to see inside, bamf hello goodbye and thank you ladies. Though the downside would be the lazy factor of never really having to walk away where ever again just jump to the couch, then to the kitchen, then to the bathroom, computer whatever I could see at least 200 pounds of weight gain with that much lazy unless jumping burns calories like crazy. Or even worse you and your significant other are having the sexy time and bamf you are standing in the living room of your parent’s house trying to cover your shame before your Dad looks up from his nightly CNN news break. Also as note you most likely would have to make the creature giving you the wishes watch the movie and by the end of it they may just throw up into the sun. The chance of other stuff becoming an issue is why this one goes to number 4 on the bathroom wish list.

3. The ability to jump into and out of any book, movie, picture, ECT…

                This one I could have too much fun with but could also break a lot of reality at the same time. This ability would allow me to go into and come out of any type of media such as movies, TV, books, magazines, and paintings. For instance I jump into The Losers at the scene where they are opening the cargo bin full of money. I grab as much as I can and step out of the movie with hands full of money that is now real in our world. A huge incentive here to keep going back in till all the money is gone and sitting on your living room floor or evil bank vault. Also what ever happened to you in the world you jumped into would be real here, so you jump into Spiderman and get bitten by the radioactive spider and boom you are now Spiderman spider man doing all the things a spider can. As well you could jump into books that you hate just to smack Bella in the face and tell her to stop whining about everything. The possibilities are endless though the problem with this one would be getting too much overlap and ending up jumping into a book or movie at the wrong point only to hear the twang of a banjo and a redneck saying you got a pretty mouth. For shear confusion factor this one ends up at three on the list though I do feel swinging around with a light saber while controlling a giant anime robot would be pretty cool but hard to explain to the neighbors.

2.  100 Billion Dollars

                Honestly who in their right mind would not wish for a whole crap ton of money if they were given wishes. The question here is why is this not at the top of my list well that is because of the responsibility that comes with it. If I had that much money I would have to help out my friends and family with their bills buying houses and cars like there was nothing better to do on my Tuesday afternoon. But then people I don’t know would want money and it would become a death match fight in the desert where two men enter and one man leaves. Honestly there are too many questions and digging holes for my taste so that is why this wish sits at the two.

1. The ability to make multiple copies of myself.

                Okay so here is the big one a wish that if I could get it to come true would solve a lot of issues. This ability would be such that I could make multiple copies of myself whom would act, talk and have all the memories that I do. As a plus the clones when deleted would send their info back to me so that I knew what they had been up to. I could get so much stuff done at once that I am not sure there would be enough knowledge on the plant to fill the hunger of my many brains. I could send one to work, another one to another work, one to clean the house, one to read a book, several to get degrees across multiple programs and if I needed to see what I should ware of the day I could have one just stand there while I hold stuff up. The problem here would be that I know myself pretty well and I am sure that my clones would argue with me when I gave them orders because as said they are just like me. There would be issues with sharing while playing video games as well as no one would want to be the one to go to work let alone go to several jobs. It would be a mess and I could see the only way to make it work would be to turn to a life of crime as the thrill would keep me and my many clones on the run. Also you never really know what lays deep at the bottom of your subconscious mind so to have one of my clone’s memories come back to me and be scared by it is more than I could take because I would be ashamed I did not think of it first, stupid jerk clone.

So that is my list of bathroom wishes it may still seem strange or weird but hey give it a try. Go sit on the toilet and clear your mind and see what comes up. Maybe you will be the lucky one of use that just happened to pull the magic roll of toilet paper that contains a genie who was trapped for millennia in the tree the roll was made from. Best of luck and good wishing as well don’t forget to flush.  

The Line

                This week was the opening of The Avengers which I will say with all honestly caused me to need new pants in more ways than one. As is a tradition of sorts I attended the midnight showing of Avengers with my friends. But this is not just a midnight showing this is getting together several hours in advanced to be a part of what I like to call The Line.

The Line is a mixture of equal parts super nerd and lack of wanting to or needing to be at work. I being of both minds of course was there to take the first spot in line and watch as it grew like a squished up straw you add soda too to see it unfold into something all together completely different. As in the past you will find The Line to bring together people who want to see the movie and know what it is like to be a part of something larger then themselves. This ideology is something that has been around for a period of time that I believe started with the release of the Star Wars Trilogy back in the late 70’s. I myself waited in line not only to get a ticket for some of the showings when it was re-released but also to be one of the first in to get the seats that would make the whole experience like crack to the dying hobo or equally dying rich guy that forgot his wallet in his limo. The effect of the group that gathers is magic in its own way as you can clearly pick out those that are fans and those that are just there to see the movie. The fan is the person or people that are there either dressed in costume, wearing a t-shirt sporting a print from the movie, and/or will not stop talking about the key features of the upcoming movie that they hope are true to the relevant media it is based on.  The other sides of the fence are the people that just want to see the movie these people are great as well but you can tell who they are by their lack of yelling out corrections to other people’s conversations and most likely spend the bulk of their time on their phones/ game systems.

I if you have not guessed I am one of the fans a title I am proud of and wore with great pride as I sat for close to eight hours waiting for the movie to start. As I sat there I could not help but to let my eyes and ears roam across the line as she built to be something grand. As I watched I could see the fans trudging in with their shirts, their costumes, or their shear knowledge on the subject matter. As well I could see the other group coming in to be a part of the madness but be able to walk away from it knowing they could never be that addicted to something. My ears picking up on conversations which I then jumped into, my eyes watching as the one gentleman that choose to be the Hulk looked more like Lance Armstrong after eating bad shellfish but I am sure would rage the hell out of a bike race then go on to become the King of France because we know France would just roll over like poop in a pool. The sights and the sounds adding to the experience of it all truly makes one feel at home standing for hours amongst people called to a quickening of sorts. It is this feeling that I love and hold on too even after the movie is over, which too many people got up from before it was really over, for shame. The feeling of home gathered so richly from something like a midnight showing is something I feel we all need to find in our day to day lives. It can bring us back to childhood and remind us to not take the world or ourselves so seriously as we all read the free comic books we were handed, or in some cases try to keep the large beach balls from hitting the ground.

As the crowds departed dispersing into the night like ghosts finally freed from their hallowed graves by the shrinking of the setting sun I laughed again at the wonder of it all and knew that even as this movie ended there were other pockets of togetherness in places like mine which would carry the feeling on till morning and beyond. As a note I also laughed as I watched Thor and Iron Man ride off into the night on their motorcycles. So I say to all of you, get in line and find your own group of happy people arguing which Avenger or whatever was best. Fling tiny lizards across the theater or even watch in amazement as Han Solo picks up a light saber and manages to beat Vader in a round robin duel set up at the front of the theater. Though I caution you Twilight is not a reason to be in line unless of course you do nothing but try to get the team Edward and team Jacob tweens to break out in a fight. Make sure to have the betting pool in place before hand due to the fact that the point spread is only good if none of the tweens has access to blunt objects and/or a monkey. 

The Start

The start of things to come would be the first thing that I would say if anyone would ask me why I am doing this. Sounds condescending and off putting but really it's the best way to describe the why rather than the how in the moment. That being stated and hopefully understood let me get to the heart of things, or for the bulk of people surfing the internet for work distractions let me try to get to the heart of it, get lazy and then just settle for the spleen or appendix. 


So now that I have set a pace we are off and running as some would say. In the last two years I have been at battle with my own intentions and my purpose never really understanding either sides argument but it was a good fight so I watched letting time slip away. I have decided that I want in some way to be a writer and it was this idea that my intentions and purpose fought so repetitively about. The problem as i have viewed it is that I can't right now be a writer as I think one should be. A writer in my mind is a being comprised and enfolded in the literary world every waking and most sleeping moments in their lives. They jump syntax, weave words, engross themselves in verbiage and die a little each time they finish a work. Their lives are words, their food is words, even the air that they breath is words dancing like leaves across a windy Autumn sky. They drown their whole being in alphabet soup occasionally blowing bubbles that when viewed from a correct height strike fear, love, anger, or sadness upon the minds and hearts of those willing to read the continuing jumble. This idea of a writer fills me with longing because I know honestly with all the stuff in my life I am unable to drown myself in anything but life. 


As a needed clarification when referring to life I understand it to be the moments when you are hastily trying to get your pants back up due to either the impending approach of a scoured lover, or a monster has entered the bathroom and is checking stalls one by one because some how it has locked on to your blood and finds it yummy. Either way you are happy to be done with putting up your pants, but are dumbfounded at the likely hood of such an event happening right now. Congratulations you are living life, now run fool run. 


In an effort o remedy the conflict building in my brain i have come here to an open blog to maybe by chance get some of the details down on a paper of sorts. I feel that even though my life is not giving me the chance to write as I see writers doing, it does not mean I am to lock away the madness of my brain so that normal can take hold. As stated above this is the start of things to come the heralded trumpet blow of the start of an Apocalypse of being just normal in a world that is crazy enough to allow those that try to be super. 


Please bear with me in understanding as I am new and cold and there may or may not be wolves after me. I will try as I can to listen to the voices in my head and filter through the items that fall out. Most if not all of them will end up here and I hope if for anything just a chance to be a writer in a smallish way. 


In closing I leave you with a though and a question. The world is a big place made up of little places made up or even smaller things in tiny places. We as man are a part of the big but in a small room. Being so does that mean we are ourselves to be small to keep the system in order, or do we stand taller and speak louder to be big in our own daily small places?