Collars

She wore a pink dog collar. Nothing outrageous about it, but it caught his eye. He knew what it meant. He knew the significance behind it. And he was intrigued. So many questions, so many subjects to be discussed. Yet, his mouth was silent. No words coming out. Just the every day bull. Here's your pizza, this is your total. Another chance gone by.
An opportunity missed, and his life went on. Days, weeks passed, and he was there again. Same cute girl, same collar. Every time he saw her, he made up his mind to speak to get. Yet he never managed the words.
When he was home, he thought about all the things he could say. But face to face, he was silent. This was unlike him, he was never scared to speak his mind. Yet around her, he was a mute.
Maybe his interest was noticed, maybe she got tired of the silence.
Either way, he got a Christmas present.
She ordered on Christmas eve. He pumped himself up, determined to say something. It was Christmas, probably his best chance. He knocked on the door. He heard her voice faint, "hold on a second." He prepared himself, steeled his resolve.
She opened the door, wearing the dog collar. And nothing else.
Yet again, words failed him. But this time it didn't matter. She took matters into her own hands. Wearing only the dog collar, she took his hand and pulled him inside. He couldn't believe this was happening. It was beyond his wildest dreams. He opened his mouth to speak. She silenced him with a quiet shush and a finger to his lips. Taking the pizza bag from his hands, she set it on the table and turned back to him, dropping to get knees. He stood there frozen like a statue, as she unbuckled his pants and pulled them down, freeing his erect cock.
Not believing his luck, he was amazed as he felt her mouth cover his member, it was beautiful and majestic. It was liberating. He closed his eyes and relaxed to the sensation. It didn't take long and he was ready to go. Before he could make a sound to let her know he was close, she reached up and squeezed his balls gently, taking his whole length into her mouth. He could no longer hold back and blew his load deep into her throat.
Opening his eyes, he found her walking into the living room, beckoning him onward. Not sure what to expect after that, he went gladly. Never knowing the repercussions of what had just transpired.

Levels

I've reached a level of self disgust that I never knew was possible. The descent into the madness is going full steam ahead. I have no idea where it leads, I just know that no one else will suffer with me.

Hidden

Christmas. Everyone loves Christmas. Except for me. I guess I'm the scrooge of the lot. I used to love Christmas. But things change.
Office Christmas party. Being around a bunch of people that I don't like. Not my idea of fun. Time to disappear.
I hide away from the jolly. Just let me be. Christmas used to be special. Now it's just filled with three memory of failures. The things in life I once held dear long, long gone. Now, Christmas is a reminder what I no longer have.
Just leave me alone. Let me be. I want no part of your festivities. I want no part of your merry making. Just let me disappear into the dark corner so no one notices.
I'm good at disappearing. I never make any connections. Some days I even have to hide from myself.
I ask no sympathy, I have no regrets. Just painful memories that I can't erase. No matter what I try. So, go have your holiday. I'm going to crawl into a bottle until December twenty six.

Deafening silence

You knew it had to come. Nothing lasts forever. No one wants to be set aside and forgotten.
There is simply not enough time. Not enough time for me. I'm left quiet and alone. And if that's the case, I'd rather be alone.
I want someone who wants to spend time with me, wants to listen to me, talk to me, be with me. I deserve that and better.
I also know I'll never find it.
My desires mean nothing anymore. My love is one sided it seems. I can't keep standing up just to be pushed down.
Answers are always available, you just never wanted them.
My presence fades, but my heart never does.

Music

If you like folk music, you really need to check out iron and wine.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PGrcPRw6yYU&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Alone

Only once you are truly alone can you begin to find yourself.
Once you are alone, you are free.
Build the walls higher,
Push everyone away.
Only when you're alone,
Can you find the silence you desire.

Little deaths

Every day was another death.
Something inside dying.
Before long, humanity would be lost.
He never have a thought.
He no longer cared.
His heart turned to ash,
his human nature past despair.
It was impossible to love,
When you have no heart.
No tear shed,
When lovers have to part.
Every day brought him
Closer to the end.
And all he could think of was release.

What you never knew

The light kept her warm. She was safe near the fire. It kept the bad things away.
He had been gone for so long now. The last thing she remembered was his hand fading into the dark.
Soon, he would come back for her, surely he would come back for her. She was scared being alone, the fire the only friend she had. It was dark outside the light of the fire, pitch black of a thousand endless nights.
She was scared of being alone. She was scared of what waited in the dark. Surely, he would be back soon.
She never thought about the way she treated him. The demeaning, the commands. Constantly ignoring, only to interrupt when he was busy. Involved in only herself, she saw nothing.
He faded into night, turning his back. Never coming back, he disappeared.

Lyrics to the music of my soul

"Hell And Back"

I held on as long as I could possibly
My blind faith pushing me to my knees
I felt the warmth of a touch
and it made me believe
I knew it well

I stood at the doorway hoping you might let me in
My head spinning 'round
My nerves jumping from my skin
I felt the stinging ragged cold of the devil's heart embrace
And I knew it well

And you took me to hell and back
How many times can I walk away from you
My mind's like a one way track
And every one is taking me back to you
And you tell me just one more time
and you'll lie like you always do
And I know it well

I must've walked a thousand miles or more tryin' to keep you off my mind
I've knocked on a thousand doors I'm sure, just to see what I might find
I slept in the arms of a fallen angel cryin' next to me
And I knew her well

And you took me to hell and back
How many times can I walk away from you
My mind's like a one way track
And every one is taking me back to you
And you tell me just one more time
and you'll lie like you always do
and I needed just one more lie then there's nothing that I can do
and I need it just one more time then I swear that I'll be through
And I know it well

And you took me to hell and back
My mind's like a one way track
And you tell me just one more time
and you'll lie like you always do
Yeah I know it well

And you took me to hell and back
How many times can I walk away from you
My mind's like a one way track
And every one is taking me back to you
And you tell me just one more time
and you'll lie like you always do
and I needed just one more lie then there's nothing that I can do
and I need it just one more time then I swear that I'll be through
Yeah I know it well
Yeah I know it well

"Sometime around midnight"
And it starts
Sometime around midnight
Or at least that's when
You lose yourself
For a minute or two

As you stand
Under the bar lights
And the band plays some song
About forgetting yourself for a while
And the piano's this melancholy soundcheck
To her smile
And that white dress she's wearing
You haven't seen her
For a while

But you know
That she's watching
She's laughing, she's turning
She's holding her tonic like a crux
The room suddenly spinning
She walks up and asks how you are
So you can smell her perfume
You can see her lying naked in your arms

And so there's a change
In your emotions
And all of these memories come rushing
Like feral waves to your mind
Of the curl of your bodies
Like two perfect circles entwined
And you feel hopeless, and homeless
And lost in the haze
Of the wine

And she leaves
With someone you don't know
But she makes sure you saw her
She looks right at you and bolts
As she walks out the door
Your blood boiling
Your stomach in ropes
And when your friends say, "What is it?"
You look like you've seen a ghost

And you walk
Under the streetlights
And you're too drunk to notice
That everyone is staring at you
And you so care what you look like
The world is falling
Around you

You just have to see her
You just have to see her
You just have to see her
You just have to see her
You just have to see her

And you know that she'll break you
In two

Sound

He sat at the bar. All he wanted was a drink in peace. The party further down the bar seemed to think otherwise. He sat as quietly as he could, silent, fading into the dim light. He didn't want to talk, he didn't feel jolly. He just wanted to drink his drink and sink into oblivion.
Wasn't happening. The drunkenness of others infringed on his ability to be alone. The crowd was getting bigger, more people were pushing against him, trying to get the attention of the bartender. He just wanted to be left alone. They paid him no mind. Soon, they were jostling him, spilling his drink.
It wasn't acceptable. Why couldn't people just leave him alone. All he wanted was to be left alone. Why couldn't everyone just understand that?
Sighing, he paid for the drink spilled now, never drunk. He walked quietly out the door, no complaints, no words. What had he become? Did he even exist anymore? If he disappeared, would anyone even notice?
He thought not as he walked off into the forming fog. Just another shadow in a world of shadows.

Oblivion

I just want to mix a gin
And sink into oblivion.
Smoke fogs my day,
I don't know any other way.

I wish things were different
I wish I could care.
The walls are high by choice,
No reason to fear.

To preserve my sanity,
I walk away from what I love.
To continue this life,
Is more than I can give.

I wish this were easy,
A nod of the head,
A silent yes.
Silence speaks volumes.

What I want doesn't exist,
I wish for love,
And only met,
With sadness.

Life was never supposed to be easy,
No one ever told me it would be this hard.
The things I don't say,
Eat at my soul.

It's a game with no winner,
A problem with no solution.
Just one way out,
And a long walk away.

I can never be what you want,
You can never be there.
Day after day, it's just the same,
Until the argument begins anew.

To walk away isn't easy,
I want it too bad, I desire it too much.
But what can never be
Destroys what I am.

Better to forget and let memory fade,
Maybe I won't deal with this pain everyday.
The choice was made long ago,
It's in every decision you make. 

I am here alone.
This tells me all I need.
Some things,
Were just never meant to be.

The din of cannon fire

The smoke hung thick in the air. The echoes of the previous explosion still filled the air. But there was no time for it to dissipate, more explosions were rapidly following. The explosions lit the sky, washing his face with multicolored lights. Each boom brought a new hue.
It was fourth of July, America's Independence day. And like always, he was celebrating with fireworks. The concussion of the explosions shook his body, each boom shaking a little more. As he sat back and enjoyed the splendor, he started to drift off into his imagination.
He wondered what it would have been like to have lived here, in New Orleans, two hundred years ago during the war of 1812. Instead of fireworks, that would be cannon fire, the smoke the smell of burning buildings, perhaps even flesh.
He wondered if he would have been counted among the brave souls that risked their lives against a larger force, defending their homes, in the name of a country they didn't even belong to yet. Such courageous men. Would he have answered the country's call years later, and fought to defend it from an oppressive North? What about during the second world war? Would he have the courage to answer the patriotic call of his nation? Did he have what it took to answer the call today for those same reasons? Was he willing to die to protect the ideas of freedom and liberty?
Boom.
The show continued, while he dreamed of things that never were.

Tedium

Thump thump
It was the sound that woke him. His eye were caked shut with sleep, they didn't want to move. He slowly worked his mouth, his lips were crusted and cracked. He was painfully obvious of thirst. He needed something to drink, something strong.
Thump thump
There was that sound again. "What could possibly be making that sound?" He mumbled aloud. Or at least tried to. His tongue was thick and dry, like sandpaper, it didn't want to move. He slowly forced his eyes open. The light was bright, but not blinding. To anyone else, they would have probably said it was dim in the room, but in his current state, it was bright. Slowly his eyes begin to focus, make some sort of coherent sense out of the sights he saw around him.
Thump thump thump thump.....
The sound was incessant now. Like someone knocking. He peered around the room. He had no idea where the door was, let alone where he was. It might have resembled a hotel room at one point, but that was hours ago. Lots had happened since then.
Finally able to focus, he slowly raised  his head. Holding himself on one elbow, he waited to see if gravity was going to work this time or not. There had been occasions when gravity hasn't worked.
Satisfied that everything was normal in the universe, or at least gravity in this particular incident, he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position.
Silence.
The knocking had ceased. He wasn't entirely sure when this had happened, but the quiet that ensued was greatly welcome. He decided that he didn't want to know. But what he did need to know is where he was at.
(To be continued, I'm falling asleep)

Like a Ghost into the Fog

The soup was cold.
Just another instance of crappy service. He knew that it was going to be this way. It was this way every time he came in this joint.But it was cheap, and cheap was all he could afford these days.
33 years on the force, and then he had to retire because of his bum hip. He couldn't keep up anymore. It was the only option available for him. But a cop's pension doesn't pay much, and he had to make the dollars stretch as far as he could.
Ernie never thought life would be like this. He didn't really know what he had expected out of life, but this wasn't it. Of that he was sure.
But Ernie did find work occasionally working as a private detective. It wasn't glamorous, but it paid the food bills. It let him eat at places like this. Ernie shook his head. "Oh what an existence." was his satirical thought.
His thoughts wandered through his memories, eventually winding back up staring at the cold soup. Ernie knew he could send it back. They might not screw with it, he was a regular. Even in this shit hole, Ernie thought there might be someone with dignity. But Ernie wasn't quite prepared to make that assumption.
Pulling a few dollars out of his pocket, Ernie tossed them on the table and got up. Staring at the soup wasn't going to make it taste better. It wasn't going to make him feel better and it certainly wasn't going to make him forget.
Looking around suspiciously, Ernie did his best not to remember any of it. It was hard not to, especially when it had haunted him for so long. People sometimes asked him what he remembered most about working as a Police Officer, what story stuck out the most? His reply used to be some terrible accident or a funny story depending upon his audience. That all stopped a few years ago. That was when he came across the only case he could never solve. Even now, years later, he would open up the file and go through it again to see if there was some piece of the puzzle he missed, some clue he overlooked.
Deep in thought, he left the diner and walked the few blocks back to his office/home. He had turned the downstairs into an office for his detective business and lived upstairs. It was a very suitable arrangement for him.
He couldn't get the case out of his mind now that it had come back up. It was such a strange case.
Ernie wasn't sure how he would classify it if he were to file it, missing persons, abduction, he really wasn't sure. It was so bizarre.
As he approached his office, he saw a newer model Mercedes-Benz sitting out front. Perhaps he had company, Ernie's clientele  was definitely upper-class. The poor had a hard time affording his services, he didn't come cheap. His knowledge hadn't either and this was Ernie's way of surviving.
Walking up to the door, a muscular fit man got out of the car, and approached.
"May I help you?" Ernie inquired.
"Yes," the stranger replied, "I was told that you would have any information regarding a person of interest to me. I was told that you were the person to speak to about this person."
Ernie's interest was piqued. "And who told you this?" was his next question.
"One Captain Maynard. Down at the precinct." was the quick response.
"The man had done some homework if he had spoken with the Captain." Ernie reasoned privately, "The Captain would have never sent him here if Capt didn't have good reason."
Wiping the sweat from his brow, the summer was picking up hard and humid. Soon it wouldn't be fit to be outside at this time. Opening the door, Ernie invited the stranger into the cooler office, "Why don't we go inside and speak some more?" he said.
The stranger nodded and proceeded into the waiting room. Ernie went and turned on a few lights, and then indicated that the stranger should follow him into his office. Switching on lights, and getting himself comfortable, Ernie sat in his leather chair and gestured for the stranger to do the same.
As the stranger sat, Ernie took the opportunity to inquire further. Leaning forward, surreptitiously turning on his tape recorders, Ernie asked the stranger who he was looking for. Settling himself into his own chair, the stranger looked up and said the one name Ernie had hoped to never hear again. "Fred Franks". Ernie stared at the man, surely he had heard wrong. He knew that he had just been thinking about the very same name, it was just probably still in his head.
"I beg your pardon?" was his reply.
"Fred Franks. He disappear. The Captain said that after they could not make heads or tails of it, the family had contacted you in hopes you could find something. The Captain said you never did. But that you never gave up the case. I am here to find out what you learned." The stranger had lain a bomb in Ernie's lap. What was he to say? Who was this guy?
"And who are you to be inquiring of this matter, sir? I know all the family, quite well in some cases. I know you are not related. What is your interest in this matter?" Ernie wasn't sure if he wanted to divulge his information to this complete stranger.
"You are correct sir. I am not family. I represent another group that is interested in his whereabouts. Be it deceased or living, we would like to know what you know. I am aware that you probably don't want to divulge any information, and that is fine and well. I am entitled to compensate you handsomely for your time. All we want is a copy of your files, and to hear the story. That's all. Nothing more. After that, I will leave and you can about your way, a richer man.: The stranger had Ernie's attention. While he didn't like the idea of givng away information, Ernie did like making money. But it needed to be good money.
"How much compensation?" was his hesitant answer. The stranger pulled a check from his pocket, glanced at it, and slid it face down across the table. Ernie picked it up and almost dropped it again. He had never seen a check with that many zeroes. 10,000 dollars was a lot of money. Enough that Ernie could stop eating at that crap hole diner down the street. Nodding his acceptance, Ernie leaned back in his chair.
"It was the strangest case I have worked on in the 33 years on the police force and since as a private detective.....


 The only definite thing that I can tell you about the whole situation is that Fred Franks is gone. I don't necessarily mean dead, I just mean gone. I don't think he was abducted, there would have been some sort of ransom. I don't believe he committed suicide, at least he didn't there and there was never a body recovered. He just vanished.
The police got wind of it after he didn't show up for work. His manager called and called his phone, we found it in the apartment, showing the multitude of missed calls and texts, and when no one answered, she called his next of kin to check on him. His brother hadn't seen him since the day before, but agreed to check the apartment.
Fred's brother is the one who called the police. The police arrived to find the apartment in the same state that Fred's brother found it. Empty, but looking like Fred had just been there. No bags were missing, his cell phone was there, his car was there, the dog was in the kennel, but Fred was nowhere to be found. It was like he walked outside and vanished.
After the police exhausted every lead, and they had several, the family contacted me. I knew, taking the case that it was hard to track down someone on a case this cold, but I tried anyway. I kept running into dead ends. I would discover some facet of his life only to find that the people involved hadn't seen him in years. The man had become a ghost long before he disappeared with no close friends and only seeing his family once a week, or more.
I went through all the evidence, there was no foul play. I tracked down his drug dealer and the guy was just as surprised as anyone else. He didn't know where he had gone.
I must have spent weeks searching for some clue. I found nothing. The man simply vanished. It's all there in my files. You might find something I missed, or have information that I don't, but I couldn't figure it out."

The stranger was silent for a moment, and then asked, "So there were no clothes taken, no bags packed? Maybe he went camping with a friend or something?"
Ernie nodded, "I thought the same. But as far as I could tell, with the help of the brother, nothing was missing. No camping gear, no clothes. The man had locked his dog up in the kennel like he was leaving for work. But something happened between the front door and the car. I never could figure out what."
The stranger nodded, seemingly accepting Ernie's answer. "So what do you think happened?" he asked Ernie.
Ernie shrugged. "Now that is the 10,000 dollar question isn't it?" was his response. He chuckled and then continued, "I don't believe in aliens, and I don't think the government kidnapped him. In my honest opinion, he just left. For whatever reason, he reached his breaking point, and just walked away from it all. If he was determined enough, he could have slipped away without anyone knowing it. You reach another city, buy a ticket somewhere, say on a bus, and you could be gone forever. I didn't have the connections or money to create a nationwide man-hunt, so I wasn't able to check records nationwide. But my gut says this guy just up and walked away from his life. He disappeared. And in such a way as I have never seen. It was like he simply vanished."

The stranger nodded, thanked him for his time, took his copy of the files and left. Ernie watched him drive off. But he couldn't help the nagging feeling that he forgot something, something important. It was something about the check that kept bothering him. Turning it back over, he looked at the company's name that wrote the check. He had seen that name before. But where?
Ernie scratched his head for a long time. As he picked up the folder, his phone rang. Turning to answer it, he spilled some of the papers on the table. It was the Captain, inquiring about the stranger. Talking to the Captain, Ernie started putting the papers back in the folder. Just casually looking at one sheet, he froze. That was where he had seen the name! It was on the list of alias'. It was one of Fred's aliases!
Ernie couldn't believe it. He sat down heavily, forgetting the Captain on the phone. All he could think about was why? Why after all this time would he show up again, seeking information? Why?
The Captain, sensing Ernie's attention slipping, called out to him, "Ernie, Ernie! What's wrong?"
"I've got to go, Capt. That son of a bitch, Franks, was the stranger. He was just here. And he left."

Cries

The silence is what he searched for. It was all he sought. And something he could never achieve.
He stared at the eyes in front of him. He knew the secrets he sought were there, locked in the depth of the eyes.
Words lied, actions betrayed motives, but the eyes can't hide the truth..look long enough, you will always find the answers you seek.
The voices were silent. They were never silent, always arguing -bickering amongst themselves. The voices were his constant companions. He wished they would get outta his head. They just laughed at him. And he knew he needed them. It was the voices that can't the monster at bay. They kept it under control. If the monster were ever freed, the world would burn to the ground.
The eyes stared back, just as intense. There was no ground to be given, everything must be fought for, tooth and nail.
He focused deeper on the eye. They had changed colors since they appeared. The eyes had gone from a gorgeous blue to cold, hard steel -a grey that made you shiver with lack of emotion. The eyes were cold and unforgiving. He stared harder, the eyes never wavered, only staring harder themselves.
He searched the eyes for the humanity they had lost, for the soul abandoned. There was nothing but cold grey emptiness.
He blinked. It wasn't the answer he expected. He looked again, no he was correct, the humanity was gone.
He looked at his face in the mirror, his cold lifeless eyes staring back. He knew he was dead inside, but now the world would know it too.

Time

The seconds ticked by in long intervals. The space between the seconds seemed to last an eternity. Work was dragging by so long today. Fred looked at the clock again. Another second passed. It was a long time until closing. Some days Fred felt like he lived here at work. It had been so long since he took a day off. Seven days a week, non-stop. TICK.
Days and nights seem to have blurred together for Fred, he didn't even know what the date was. But this was the way he wanted it. Staying busy helped him forget. But it never really helped. He smoked pot regularly and in heavy quantities and he still couldn't forget. No matter hour hard he tried, Fred just couldn't forget.
TICK.
Another second passed. Every moment since she left had been like this, one eternity after another. Life had little meaning anymore.
They say that time heals all wounds. This was the wound time dugout. Fred could live forever and he would still be wounded. Love wasn't supposed to leave. Love wasn't supposed to fade.
TICK.
The hours at work were never enough, the hobbies at home even less so. He couldn't smoke enough, Fred was fairly sure there wasn't enough pot on the Earth to make him forget. And so he carried on, numbing himself, building his walls high, keeping everyone away. If no one came close, no one could ever hurt him again.
TICK.
Another second closer. At some point it would all end, of this Fred was sure. No one lived forever. Each passing second got him closer. Soon enough.
TICK.
Reality had warped for Fred. He daydreamed so much that telling reality from fantasy was no longer easy. Fred longed to get lost in a story, a connection with her. A way of being with her. Life wasn't real anymore, only the stories.
TICK.
another second closer.

Unexpected

The Grind seemed like it had been going on forever tonight. It was one of those nights where you were busy from the time you clocked in until the moment the store was closed. Fred was tired, he should have gone home an hour ago, but they were busy. "Just one more set of deliveries", his manager told him. That had been an hour and a half ago. Fred was still at it.
He read the address. Yep, he was in the right place. As tired as he was, Fred had to double and triple check to make sure. This late you just didn't want to knock on the wrong door.
Up the stairs, check the ticket, knock on the door, wait. It was a standard routine for Fred, one he did regularly. The door opened. A girl answered the door, "Oh, pizza. It must be for my roommate, hang on." The voice was hauntingly familiar. Fred knew that voice very well. He had heard it for a year or more at work, and many more times in his fantasies. It was Bailey. But he hadn't gotten a good look at her face, so he waited. Of course, he was going to have to wait anyway for the money.
Bailey. Fred hadn't seen her in two years. Not since he quit his last job. She had moved back west then. Bailey. Fred had a crush on her from the first day he met her. She was smart and witty and kind-hearted. But they had worked together and there was an age difference that Fred thought was insurmountable. That didn't lessen his fondness for her.
The woman  came to the door again, for Fred didn't feel right calling this attractive person of his past a girl anymore. She had grown into the woman that he first met, the one that attracted him in the first place. Bailey spoke, "That must be for downstairs, we didn't order pizza." Stepping out and closing the door, she continued, "Here, let me show you where it's going." Bailey didn't recognize Fred.
As Bailey led the way back down the steps, Fred spoke to her, "So, how have you been Bailey?" She froze and then spun back to look at the man standing above her. This time the light was right and she could make his features. "FRED!!!" she squealed and rushed to him, embracing him with a giant hug. "Oh my god, how have you been?"
As they continued down the stairs and to the correct door, the two chatted - catching up on how the other was doing. Soon enough, Fred had delivered the pizza and it was time to be on his way. "Goodbye," he told Bailey with regret in his voice. Bailey gave a little pouty face and then gave him a quick hug. "Do you still have my number?" Fred asked. Bailey nodded. "Give me a holler later."
And Fred went about his way. Back on the road, next delivery, and then another and another until it was time to close the doors and clean up and go home. As Fred was counting out his money, he got a text message. It was from Bailey.
"Sorry to text so late, but I was wondering if you were up" -B
"Of course, just finishing up work" -F
"Oh ok, good. I'm glad I got to see you tonight." -B
"Me, Too. I'm glad I knocked on the wrong door. It was great seeing you."  -F
"Yeah, I can't believe how random that was. But it got me to thinking about you....." -B
"Ohhhh?" -F
"Yeah, what are you doing after you leave work? Do you want to have a drink?" -B
Fred was sitting in his car, getting ready to head home and walk his dog and go to sleep. He had ten days of doubles coming up. But this was the girl from his fantasies asking him to go have a drink with her. How could he turn her down?
"Yes, that sounds great. Do you want to meet somewhere, have me pick you up???? I have to walk my dog first, but that won't take long." -F
"How about we meet at your place? Send me the address and I should be there after you finish your walk. I'll bike over." -B
This was not the reply he expected. This was not the girl he remembered.
With a few swypes of the finger, the rendezvous was set up. Fred hurried home so that he could get his dog walked before she showed up.

As Fred finished his walk, he saw someone sitting on his front porch. It was Bailey. She greeted his dog like everyone else, gushing over how cute he was. Small talk followed and everyone moved inside. Bailey had brought some Jameson over and soon a few shots had been taken and talk began flowing.
Having been a long night, Fred really needed to go to the bathroom. Excusing himself, he went to the bathroom. Feeling relieved, Fred soon was exiting the bathroom and heading back downstairs. But as he walked out of the bathroom, he heard someone whisper his name from his room. Turning around, he saw that a light was on in his room. Pushing aside the curtain, Fred found himself living a dream.
There on his bed, naked was Bailey. She lay there, legs slightly parted, perk breasts moving up and down slowly with her breathing, her hair spread out around her. Fred stood in the doorway, frozen. This couldn't be real, it had to be a dream.
Bailey lifted herself into a seated position and crooked her finger at him, beckoning him into the room. Fred felt his body move involuntary. He no longer had control over what was going on. As he started to get on the bed next to her, Bailey stopped him and slowly unzipped his pants. Fred's hard erection sprang free. A slight smile appeared on her face and without uttering a word, she slid his length into her eager waiting mouth. It felt so good, Fred felt his knees get a little weak. Slowly, she pulled it back out of her throat until just his head was in her mouth. Then sucking as hard as she could, she pulled his cock out of her mouth, it made a sucking sound once freed.
Bailey's voice came throaty and low, "Take off your clothes and lie down on the bed." Fred was quick to comply. Stripping his clothes off, Fred hastily laid down on the bed. Bailey leaned over and nuzzled his erect cock with her lips, nibbling at the head. Fred was in heaven. She took him back into her mouth sucking him and licking him until he could finally control it no more and came deep in her throat. Bailey sucked it all down until there was nothing left coming out.
Sitting up and facing Fred, Bailey positioned herself over his still erect penis.  Slowly, teasing him, she lowered herself onto his cock until he was pushing past her lips and into her. Down and down she went, centimeter after slow centimeter, until he was completely in her. The feeling was extraordinary. Fred was so glad that he had just came so that he could enjoy this as long as he could. He wasn't sure what he had done to make Karma reward him like this, but Fred was going to savor it.
Rocking back and forth, grinding her clit into his pelvis, Bailey started pulling her pussy further and further up Fred's cock until she was gliding the whole length. Fred instinctively slid his hands to her hips to help her with the strokes. Her breasts bobbed up and down, full and firm. The breasts of a 21 year old. Bailey couldn't take it for long, and soon was collapsing on Fred's chest, panting and sweating and shaking with her orgasm. Fred was far from through. He gently rolled her unto his side and then her back. Following her over with this rolling motion, Fred was quickly on top. Before Bailey knew what was going on, Fred had positioned himself before her pussy and was pushing in. With one deep swift stroke, Fred pushed himself all the way into her. Bailey's pussy tightened hard, pulling him in deeper and she came again. Satisfied she was in the euphoric state that he was seeking, Fred started pounding Bailey as hard as he could, sliding deeper and deeper into her soaked pussy. Bailey came over and over and over, moaning loudly, calling out his name in pleasure.
But Fred was no god, and in due time reached the end of his stamina and blew his load deep into Bailey. Spent, he pulled out and lay down beside her. Bailey rolled to her side to allow Fred to spoon with her. Fred's penis was still hard and erect, so Bailey lifted her leg slightly and pushed his cock back into her. Feeling full, she snuggled tight up against him and soon was drifting to sleep. Spent and satisfied, Fred soon did the same.

The blaring of the alarm woke Fred. It was time to get ready for a long day at work. Opening his eyes and remembering the night before, Fred looked around. Bailey was no where to be seen. He got up and got dressed and then went through the house, with no one there but his dog. Wondering if he had dreamed the whole thing, Fred got his dog ready for their morning walk. As he was leaving the house, his phone buzzed, he had a text message.
"You were so fantastic last night, I am so glad you knocked on the wrong door. I had class and had to run. Text me later."
It wasn't a dream.....

Some dreams never end

Fred stood at the sink once again. The dishes were stacked high. He sighed loudly. "Why were Friday nights always like this?" he mused. Pushing his earbuds into his ears, Fred selected the music for tonight's chores, he wanted something light and upbeat. "Yes," he thought, "Reggae was the way to go." A few touches of his phone and the melodies of Bob Marley begin pouring into his brain.
Starting to wash the dishes, Fred lost himself in the music. As his body took over the repetitive task of washing, rinsing, and sanitizing the dishes, his mind wondered along with the music.....

He stood beside the boat, watching the waves pound the shore. He knew the Gods were mad, they were tossing the sea about in their anger. Fred paused with a wry chuckle. Annie would have had his hide for talking about the old Gods like that. She never understood his "heathen" ways. And he could never explain it more than that is what his people were taught. No amount of civilization or culture were ever going to change the ancient beliefs. It was a way of life, the way they were taught as children. Even though he didn't really subscribe to the old ways, it was a fool that disregarded the wisdom in the teachings. Superstitious, he might have been, but he always felt it was justified.
Annie would have given him some scientific explanation for what was going on, followed by that special smile she reserved just for him. Even after all these years since she passed, he still found himself missing her presence. In fact, the island had gotten so lonesome to him that he decided to build this boat. To sail off into the sunset, heading for the main island, he meant to start fresh. Well as fresh as a sixty-plus old man could.
There was no electricity on the island, so he bent back to his lathe and continued planing out the inside of the boat. it needed to be smooth and straight as this was where he was going to spend all of his time at sea.
Annie never cared for his voyages out into the surrounding ocean. She always feared that he would get hurt and never be able to return. He always scoffed at that idea until a few years ago when he lost track of where he was going and smashed his boat to bits on the rocks in a thick fog. That had scared him bad, if not for his quick thinking and quick reactions, he could have very easily been seriously hurt. But he could thank Luck for that. Good ole Lady Luck was always looking after him.
Fred always thought it was pure luck that he ended up with Annie in the first place. He remembered how many times she told him no, and he kept finding new ways to ask her out. Eventually she caved, and they begin a long happy life together. He had such fond memories of her, playing in the surf, sailing around the bay, the picnic they had taken on the beach - the day Fred asked her to marry him. He can still remember the way she played in the sand, digging her toes in and out.


Fred found himself staring off into the distance, the lathe laying next to his feet. Exactly where he had dropped it staring off into space thinking about his love Annie. Straightening up, Fred felt his back creak all achingly, Fred straightened. He knew it would soon be time to leave. To sail off into the sunset and into her waiting arms. His two loves re-united to show him the ultimate gesture of love, Annie and the sea.

Fred straightened from the sink. His back was aching, he had been standing in the same spot too long. His back was killing him. It was time for a chair massage and then sleep. His dreams were so puzzling, full of lives once lived with the same woman. Always with the same woman. Every night a different life, but always with the same woman. Stretching slightly, he wondered if tonight would be any different......?

Dreams, reality, is there a difference?

Work sucks.
That was the only thought in his head. He loved his job until he got to this part. Chores. Fred hated chores. They were the bane of his existence. The job was great, he made good money, but the downside was the chores. Fred's brother worked in an office. He had to sit at a desk all day, staring at the same drab four walls. He couldn't decorate anything, no personalization. Stuck in a cubicle, but he didn't have to do chores.
Fred spent most of his day delivering pizza. This meant he got to listen to the radio, and be outside. It was great, the scenery always changed and there was plenty to see. He didn't have to spend much time with people, the process of delivery was quick. "Here's the pizza, this is the total, here's your change, thank you, have a good day." Boom, gone, back in your car, music washing away any thought, just cruising. A dream job. Until he got to the end. The chores. The bullshit you had to go through to leave.
Fred stared at the water in front of him. The dishes weren't going to wash themselves. He stuck his hands in the water. Sigh.
As he washed the dishes, his mind started to wander. Thoughts of hiking in the woods, her laughter, smoke. Soon his mind was lost in the fog of memory and desire.

The woods were misty. It was the cool of the morning, air thick with humidity, yet cool and clammy. It made you shiver and be glad you had a jacket. It was the perfect kind of morning for camping in the mountains. Fred smiled, he loved being outdoors.
Stretching, he started moving around his camp. It was time to get going, he had another ten miles to hike today before he could camp again. It wasn't going to take a long time, but he didn't want to lolly-gag around all day. The camp was pretty, but not that pretty.
In short order, Fred was ready to leave. One last look around the clearing to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, and then shouldering his gear, Fred headed out into the misty morning. Soon the fog would burn off and the sunshine would beat down upon him. But for now, Fred was enjoying the quiet stillness of the woods around him. Nature was such a magical place. Peaceful, serene. He was an intruder into this place, but a quiet intruder. Fred moved as quietly as he could, camera in hand, hoping he might get some good shots of wildlife. Being a nature photographer, Fred spent a lot of time alone in the woods. It was the way he wanted. It was the only way he could escape her. By being completely out of touch, he couldn't contact her, couldn't hear her voice, couldn't taste her lips. It was an self-induced solitude, one that she hadn't wanted. But Fred knew that she couldn't commit, and he couldn't accept anything less. So he left, disappeared. It was the only way he could have left, goodbyes would have been prolonged, and he would have stayed in her sweet embrace. She was his drug.
The hike was arduous this morning, but not overwhelming. Fred had to climb a lot early this morning to get to his next camp, by the mountain lake that was his destination. A week of camping there, and thousands more pictures, and Fred knew that he would have all the pictures his editor wanted for the next book. People loved his pictures, mostly because he went so deep into the remote wildernesses that they couldn't. If you wanted to disappear, you had to leave society behind and find the places where Mother Nature had complete reign.
Pausing only for a quick trail lunch of granola bars and water, Fred made the lake around mid-afternoon. With the ease of a practiced hand, he soon had camp set. Making sure all his food was tied up, and everything stored away, Fred decided to explore a little and see what pictures awaited him. As he wandered around the lake shore, Fred saw many wildflowers in bloom, spring was in full swing here even though the rest of the country was in the beginnings of summer. However, it wouldn't be long before it was summer here and then fall. Winter was a long season at this altitude.
Seeing all the vibrant colors of nature, he couldn't help but think of her. She loved flowers, loved taking picnics in fields of wildflowers. Coming to a rock that resemble a high-back chair, Fred sat down to take in his surroundings. The memories were coming hard and heavy. He thought about the time when they had taken a picnic in a field just like this. Fred smiled remembering that day, how she had spread the blanket, her butt in the air. He remembered running his hand up her leg to her buttocks. The way she arched her back in desire, the burning lust he had in his loins, he could smell her pussy. She needed him. With no more thought, he pulled up her skirt and pushed his fingers into her pussy. She moaned and pushed her head into the blanket, shoving her ass into the air. She was begging to be fucked. Fred had no problems obliging. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, freeing his hard cock. Taking only a moment to position himself, he soon was plunging his hard cock into her over and over. Her juices were running down her leg and she was moaning and crying out with every other thrust. Reaching climax, Fred pushed hard into her and released his load deep into her pussy. She came and came and came, pulling him deeper into her with each climax. Spent, they both slumped to the ground. As natural as breathing, they soon were spooning watching the flowers wave gently in the slight breeze.
Fred was smiling broadly as he sat on the rock remembering that day. In his daze, he heard her voice call his name. Fred looked up and around, sure she was here. He heard a splash from the water and turned his head to look. A flash of white and a giggle and he was sure she was in the water. Without any thought, he stripped off his clothes and took off towards the water. Skinny-dipping with her was always fun. A few more steps and he plunged into the water. The shock of the cold shook him up.

The cold water startled Fred. He looked around. The dishes were done, he could now leave. Work sucked, but at least he could dream.....

The echo of a gunshot

His life seemed a contradiction at times. If he needed to stay awake, he would get sleepy. If he needed to go somewhere, he ended up stuck. And when he needed to concentrate, he got distracted. Like right now.
It was the myriad sounds that captivated his attention at this crucial moment. He needed to have his attention focused, instead he could hear electricity pop from the nearby transformer. The sound was like lightning in the air, a sizzle then pop. Repeated. Over and over and over.
He had been sitting there so long that he didn't really fear the transformer blowing, his assumption after examining the pole was that this was a common occurrence and nothing to be concerned about. But in reality it didn't matter. The resulting explosion would provide him with the opportunity he was waiting on. Which is one of the reasons why he had been sitting here so long in the first place. "In fact," he reasoned, "the transformer exploding would actually work in my favor." But without the transformer exploding on its own, he didn't risk shooting it for fear that he would give away his position. Which was the other major reason why he had been sitting here motionless for so long. He needed this shot.
Most clients were vague on how they wanted their problems dealt with. They wanted someone discreet, thorough and effective. Of which he was all of  and more. This desire for lack of information allowed him to be more persuasive and non-lethal in his methods. Sometimes, though, non-lethal methods didn't solve the problem. "And sometimes, the client is very specific in how they want the situation handled." He muttered softly aloud.
There he was again, distracted. Luckily for him, the target hadn't emerged from his hide-out yet. Andrew didn't really know what the target had done, or why he was supposed to dispatch the target in this specific manner. And Andrew didn't want to know. He didn't get paid to ask questions. He was paid to provide solutions that conventional methods couldn't. Questions weren't encouraged by his clients.
Bzzzzzzz
The sound was getting louder from the transformer, perhaps Andrew would get lucky after all. He raised the rifle to his shoulder, peering down the scope. The range was good, he was on the mark he had picked out earlier, based upon the target's height. The target wasn't a tall man, and his bodyguards made up for that lack. They were behemoths. But they left gaps that a bullet could find its way to. You just had to aim correctly.
While Andrew was checking the wind and weather, he heard the door open. The creak of the hinges carried across the distance between them. Andrew slowly lifted the rifle to his shoulder and peered down the scope once again. This time, there was much to look at, as Andrew scanned the people coming out of the door, looking for the target.
Seconds passed, but they felt like hours to Andrew as he searched for the target. Soon, he found the opening he sought. With an exhale of breath, Andrew squeezed the trigger. The recoil of the rifle jarred him to the bone, Andrew knew it was going to leave a nasty bruise. The bullet, meanwhile, found it's mark. Even surrounded by bodyguards, Andrew had found his mark.
With a motion smooth from many hours of practice, Andrew was chambering another round even as he exhaled from the first shot. He watched and waited. Sometimes in an operation like this, you had shoot twice. The gun held steady, waiting, watching. The target lay on the ground in an ever-widening pool of blood.
Satisfied that he had fulfilled the contract, Andrew stood up and begin to gather his things. It would take police 30 to 40 minutes to even realize that the shot had come from this distance. That was a lifetime to someone with Andrew's skill sets.
As Andrew started down the stairs, the transformer continued its eery noise.

A day in the life of Brian

Day 45673
Every day is the same. Wake. Walk dog.Shower.  Eat breakfast. Smoke. Work. Get off. Walk dog. Eat food. Smoke. Sleep.
Repeat.
I'm a robot.

Laugh

Watch "Pizza gets revenge" on YouTube
If this doesn't make you laugh, you're dead.

Fear

The world around me is filled with violence.
First the violence of the other night, then my neighbors had a throw down fight before leaving to the west coast for two weeks. Then tonight i come home to an empty cop car beside my house. (To keep people from running the stop sign, I'm assuming) and other neighbors having a screaming match in the front yard.
And people wonder why I'm a hermit. Who wants to be subjected to that sort of drama. Not I.
And now for sleep. The sleep of the innocent.

Frustration

Standing in line at Wal-Mart. This is where the revolution will begin. Someone will get fed up with the mindlessness of all this and go ape-shit.
I've spent more time in line than i did shopping. Wtf?
I say we start letting the stupid people kill themselves off and we might be able to save our race.
Just a little irritated by all this. I would just leave except i need what I came for.
I got a new phone, a Samsung note ii. I fucking love it. It's huge. So much better.
I also started working seven days a week as I'm living alone again. And i have a puppy so I'm never home. I needed a computer i could take with me.
I've written all of this after checking fb, and Instagram. Seven lanes open at five pm. Stupidity.

Familiar

If I wanted something new, i would troll the college bars looking for daddy issues.
It's the same old song and dance. I never was good at dancing.
The wind is blowing so hard as to cut you in half. I want my summer weather here already.
What is familiar is comfortable. But to become comfortable is to become complacent. To become complacent is to give up and accept what's familiar.....
I was never good at following directions. Now i am falling asleep writing these coded messages for you to read. If you're smilin, well that's what i want to see.

Half truths and myths

No one wants to be alone.
Ask a mother who has been home all day alone with a child.
Every situation brings a different set of challenges. While on the outside i appear calm inside I'm adrift and lost. There is nothing anyone can do to help me find my way.
And that's what alone truly means. Being completely self sufficient. I live alone. No one pays any of my bills. No one takes care of me, and I'm fairly certain that outside of my family and a few close friends, no one really cares what happens to me. But that's life. There is no sense in crying about it. You accept it and move on. You find ways to be happy alone. You find ways to feel fulfilled. You get a dog for companionship. I really don't know why i got the dog. But he's mine and there is no going back.

Google reader is soon going to be shut down. It'll be the last time I have any contact with you. And life moves on.

As real as it gets

The shrill scream broke through the
Night air. Even the dog stopped.
The screaming stopped. It was followed by a sharp report. Once, twice, three times. Then silence. A door slams, and a car peals out.
I might have just witnessed a murder.
I walk the dog home and lock the door. I didn't witness shit.
I've become numb, i could care less about others. Humanity is trying to flush itself down the toilet. I say let it, and sit on the seat top so it can't claw it's way back out.
Love is nuts. You can't control it, you can't predict it. You can't even get rid of it. A hundred times I've said the same thing. Patiently waiting, living life. One day you'll find your courage. The courage to be happy.
Human beings weren't meant to sit inside all day. I read every single word. Like heroin for a junkie.
You aren't just in my bloodstream, you are the heart. You can't destroy something freely given.
The humidity is so thick you can reach out and touch it. Literally. It started misting to relieve some of the weight of the air. My air is already running. It's so warm.
This would be so much easier in text. But it always leads to the same. I cannot be the first. My conditions haven't changed. And so it's a Mexican standoff. But be warned, you can't deny the desire forever, it will consume you.
No smiles. No happy eyes.

The best artists, writers, directors, actors are all dark and suffering. They have a love lost that haunts them and motivates their works. It's the way it has to be. I could never be creative loved.

reflections on the water

"Time is endless." This was the thought that echoed through his head everyday. He wished time would speed up, but it drug on endlessly. It had as long as he could remember, and while that wasn't his entire life, it was pretty damn long. An eternity could have been shorter than his life.
His life had certainly felt it had lasted an eternity. He had suffer enough heartache to fill three lifespans. And yet he kept on living. He laughed sardonically, "Only the good ones get to die." That old polish asshole had told him that once. It kept surfacing in his mind, as if to mock him. "damn him," he muttered to himself. Not that there was actually anyone around. He had the park to himself on this cool afternoon.
He came here everyday. It was the park where they had met years ago, in that long distant summer. He didn't know then that she was the woman of his dreams, but he did know she was special. The way the light hit her hair making it shine with inner radiance, and her smile. He still saw her smile every time he closed his eyes.
He wasn't really sure if he came to the park to relive the memories of times they had spent there, or if he was hoping beyond hope to see her once more. Hoping that her spirit will appear and give him just a few more minutes of happiness.
He lowered his head, as usual, the tears had started falling. He didn't bother to wipe them away, he knew that there were more to come. Even after all these long years, his heart still ached with the loss of her presence. It never went away, and he dealt with it every single day. It was his burden, the price he had to pay for losing her.
He could feel a wail building inside of him. It was so strong, it went deep into his bones, the ache of love lost. He slumped down on the bench. He hoped it was time, that it was time to leave this world. She had left long before him. Years and years ago, in fact, no one he knew remained alive, yet he never could die. He had passed the century mark a long time past. Life just kept on going.
The tears had stopped, his shirt collar was soaked. He lifted his lowered head to see the sun sinking into the horizon. It would soon be time for him to go. The park would soon be closed, and he knew that he couldn't survive the elements. As he stood to go, he heard a whisper in the wind. It was her voice, whispering his name. He frantically scanned the area.
After what seemed like hours, he stopped searching for some sign of her and started slowly walking home. He missed her so much, he just wanted to go home.

Silence

I don't expect anything different. I don't expect anything to change.
I miss you constantly, like missing an appendage.  I know you should be there, but all I get is silence.
Some days I get mad at you.  Mad that you aren't with me. I know it's no one's fault, but that doesn't stop me. 
Life is a vicious circle. When I had given up, I met you. The perfect person for me.  And yet you are unavailable.  So why am I surprised? It's the story of my life. 
It's a good thing I won't live forever.  That's too long to spend without your love, your smile, your laugher.  Ooooohhhh how I miss you.

The Seductress

"Only two things in life are certain. Death and taxes."
The words echoed through his head. Sitting stuck in traffic, he kinda hoped it would be soon. This was ridiculous. But there was nothing to be done. He was a few miles from the next turn-off and that would probably be clogged with traffic as well.
As traffic inched along, he thought more about death. It wasn't exactly that he was obsessed with it, just that he thought about it a lot. A LOT. He justified this dark passion of his by saying that he didn't actually think about killing himself; more it was imagining how he would die.
Like sitting in traffic. He wondered how he would die right now if it was his time. Would it be a car plowing into the back of him, smashing him to bits? Maybe the hoopty in front of him had a gas leak and would all of the sudden exploded, the debris slicing ribbons through car and his body. Perhaps it would be something commonplace like a heart-attack from yelling at the moron in front of him that just cut him off. Or maybe it would be some crazy wack-job that comes alongside of him and sprays his car full of bullets. Just another random murder.
He thought about the consequences. Would he be missed? Would his family follow his wishes? Had he done enough to take care of the people he loved? (Even those who loved him back) Foot by foot he made his way through traffic, pondering all the different ways he could die. A car in front of him loses control, the driver dropped his taco. Would he be able to avoid the collision? Or would he perish in a literal blaze of glory?

(I have to stop here, I am so tired I am nodding off instead of typing.but then no-one really reads this, so I guess I am just writing this for my own pleasure)

Ohhhh to be a hermit

Yes that is the life for me.

Vanish

The voice inside screams louder. Time to hide. Disappear. Old faces bring memories that haunt. Better to forget. Fade away. I always said I was a ghost.
I knew the outcome was always going to be this. I knew it could never last. Happiness is a fleeting dream. One I never hoped to hold on to. You cannot expect something you know you were never meant to have.
So the voice screams to leave and it's time to vanish. The walls are complete, no one ever comes in again and I vanish. Change my number, change my name. Leave. Disappear.
But then, no one will ever really miss me.

Adrift

Adrift in a sea of loneliness. It's of my own making. I fault no one.
I can't even love my puppy, I know in the back of my mind he will leave me. Everyone does. The cold hard truth is we all die alone.
easier to get used to being alone than rely on someone who is never there.
I tried to say I rode off into the sunset, but all I see is darkness. But then there never was light in my soul.

Memories fade

You may be gone, but you will never be forgotten. My heart holds a special place for you. You are the perfect person for me, but you already know that. Maybe one day we will meet again. Until that day, I will hold your love tight.

Mr fix it

Why must people seek me out for solutions to their problems?
What about my life screams that I have all the answers?
I struggle with money, love, life, etc just like the next person. how can I fix your life, when I'm still working on mine?
I shun human interaction for this reason. Let me be, leave me alone. That's where I want to be. Alone. Keep the walls high and everyone out. Everyone. You can't leave and expect back in.
locking my doors tight. walking away and never looking back

Oh yeah

And then I remembered none of this matters in the end, for we all die alone.

Today was a new day, tomorrow will be the same

It's valentines day.
It's 10:40. The time of my death.
I couldn't help but think of you in the days past. I've come to realize the silence speaks louder than anything you've said. The fact you refuse to make any sort of contact tells me that such contact will never come.
C'est la vie. I knew it wouldn't last forever, but I never expected to be discarded. Life goes on.
I could be sad, and heartbroken. But it's just another day. It reinforces my decisions and confirms my expectations.
I hope you find what you seek.
Instead, I'm curled up on my couch enjoying every day of my life. It keeps moving on. I find happiness wherever I can, however I can.
no parting words of wisdom, just emptiness where you used to be.

Distortion

The days become weeks, become months, become years. A lifetime, and it still isn't enough time to love you.
I think of you constantly, missing the laughter, longing for the smile and the way you said my name in that way no one else could. It's dark now, the eternal darkness of the solitary soul.
The keys jingle, a distant memory, a sound that echoes across time, surpassing distance. Can you hear my soul scream? The noise threatens to consume, yet when I open my mouth to release it, no sound comes forth. Does it echo across time? Do you hear my heart beat?
Life continues, yet remains barren and colorless. Nothing is simple, nothing fulfills. I am a man dying in a desert with no water.
Sleep overtakes me, bringing with it dreams of the life I should have with you here in my arms.

Late night reflections

I feel blessed in so many ways.
While I'm not an old man nor young, I have accomplished much in my short span.
I've known the love of not one, but two beautiful women. I've known trials and tribulations of raising a child. I've made a fortune and lost it. I've run my own business and while that did fail, I looked failure in the eye and learned lessons from it.
I've started five different careers, and earned a degree with two certificates of proficiency in culinary arts.
I married my best friend and fell in love with another. I've known the darker side of life with the scars to show.
I've been to mountain tops, and sea-shores, all in the same day.
I've traveled to six different countries, with three trips to canada. I've been to niagara falls twice. I've traveled through 25 states.
I've done quite a bit in 32 years on this earth. Who knows what the next 28 will bring?
But when it's all said and done I will be the most interesting man in the world.

Eternal darkness

He opened the door going outside. The light spilled out as far as it could stretch, like fog rolling across the ground. The air was cold, enough to have a bite as you inhaled, chilling one to the core with that first breath.
He stepped outside, letting the door close behind him. With a sharp bang, the door closed. The darkness was absolute. The pitch black that only the deep night could bring. The stars glowed bright above, with the moon absent.
"It must be a new moon", he thought.
His footsteps crunched loud in the still of the night as he walked away from the building. The music was overwhelming, but out here the silence prevailed. He listened to his footsteps as he wandered away from the noise. Crunch, crunch, crunch. The sound was unmistakable. Ominous, yet satisfying. He needed to breathe.
Without warning, his footsteps lost their sound. He had wandered off into the grass. Now, every step came silently. He stopped after a few feet, looking around. "Here is good," he thought, unable to see anything that was around. He was enveloped in the darkness, like a cloak covering his body. He pulled his joint from his pocket and struck his lighter. The flame momentarily lit the surrounding area, enough to see that he was surrounded by grass, but not enough to make out more than a few steps.
As he pulled on the joint, inhaling the smoke, he thought about why he was out here, alone. The party was raging back inside, he should have been having a blast, living it up. He should have been laughing with his friends and enjoying the music. He should have been shooting shots and hitting on women. Should have been....
The sweet smell of pot formed a cloud around him. He basked in the smell.
The door opened, spilling light into the surrounding dark. It closed ominously with a loud thud. A few seconds passed, and then a female's voice called out, "Hank, I know you are out there. Hell, I can smell you."
"Damn," he thought, "I just had to smoke some pot."
The footsteps came through the silence, the gravel crunching, heralding her approach. Hank pulled deep on his doobie. A little too deep, because he started coughing and hacking, giving himself away. The footsteps faded into a rustle of someone walking through the grass. The footsteps stopped next to him.
"Lemme hit that." she said.
Hank passed her the joint, still coughing. She hit it slowly, saying nothing. After a few puffs, she handed it back. With a question. "Why are you out here?"
Hank pulled on the joint, thinking. How to say what he needed to say, Hank wasn't sure.
Exhaling, he decided on the truth. "I can't stop thinking about her. She stole my heart, and I can't stop loving her. It's never going to end is it?"
Hank handed her the joint. It was getting to the end. She hit it hard, thinking. "No," she exhaled, "It's not. So what are you going to do about it?"
 Hank was silent for a moment, searching for the answer.
"I have no idea." came his response. "I have no idea."

Eternal toil

The young ones were running around like crazy again, harassing the dogs and the women working. The old chief smiled to himself, all the men were out on a hunting party, and the children were full of mischief. Soon, the chief knew, the children would wear thin the patience of those going about day-to-day life. Then there would be lots of scolding and hurt feelings.
To stop this from happening, the chief called for the children to come to him. "Come," he called, "you spirits of the wind, come and sit for a minute by my fire. Come and let me tell you of a story." The children slowed their rambunctious play and made their way to the chief's fire. He might be old, but he still commanded the respect of all the tribe.
"Gather round, and let me tell you a tale." the chief began.
"What kind of tale?" asked young Bees in Flight.
"oh, a tale of great importance," replied Winter's snowfall, the old chief.
"Tell us a tale about Che'Kahn, the mighty Bear warrior, Winter's snowfall," begged little Beaver's tail.
"No, I am going to tell you the tale of Arisk." Winter's snowfall stated.
"Arisk was a young brave at the start of our story. Arisk was normal in all ways. He could hunt with the best of the hunters, he had killed many Deer and Bear. But he was not the best of hunters. He had participated in many was raids against the Navajo, but he wasn't the greatest of warriors. When the elders sat to discuss the weighty matters of the nation, Arisk would sit with them and smoke the pipe and make many good suggestions, but he wasn't not one of the respected elders. Arisk was good at many things, yet he was never the best at anything. Because he couldn't excel at any one thing, he had trouble with the ladies of the tribe. He always found himself rejected and therefore alone.
This bothered Arisk greatly and finally, one day, Arisk approached the wisest and eldest of elders, Great White Elk. 'Great White Elk,' Arisk began, 'I am a man of the tribe, yet I am not great at any one thing. The women of the tribe look past me because I am not man enough to stand out, I haven't found any way to gain my man name.' For it was true, Arisk still bore the name of youth, haven't attained his man name.
Great White Elk thought for a long minute. Finally, slowly, he spoke. "If you want to know what you are great at, you must go out into the wilderness and make a sacrifice to the Ancestors. Ask them to show you your inner strength. Then you will know what you are great at."
Arisk nodded, eager to be on his way, and thanked Great White Elk. As fast as he could, Arisk gathered his belongings and headed out into the wilderness. He would make a sacrifice to the Ancestors, and they would bless him with a gift. Then he would be the greatest.
For two days, Arisk traveled deeper into the desert searching for that right place. Finally feeling like he had found it, Arisk went in search of a goat to make a sacrifice of. Soon, the ceremony complete, Arisk sat back and waited for the voice of the Ancestors to speak to him and give him his gift. Arisk waited, and waited and waited. Time passed and Arisk started to get hungry and tired. But he was afraid of moving lest he anger the Ancestors and missed the gift they were bringing him. Hours passed, day faded into night, and still Arisk sat and waited.
Finally, as Arisk was falling into a trance, a voice spoke softly. "Arisk, why are you here?"
Stirring, Arisk replied, "I am here for my gift, the gift that will make me the greatest."
Moments passed with no reply. Arisk was afraid that he had imagined the voice after all. Then it came again, soft as before, "And then what, once you have your gift, then what will you do?"
Arisk replied quickly, without hesitation, "I will be able to go back to the tribe and become a man and take my bride. I will be a member of the tribe and help provide for my brethren."
The silence stretched even longer this time. Arisk was starting to get uncomfortable. Maybe he had angered the voice by not being great enough. After what seemed an eternity, the voice gave it's final instructions. "Only a true Sioux can be the greatest. You must stay here and grow a crop of corn before we will give you your gift, Arisk. Once you have grown the corn, we will come back and give you your gift."
And with that there was a flash and the voice was gone. At Arisk's feet was a leather skin full of corn seeds. Arisk looked around and wondered how he would ever grow corn in this arid desert. The voice must be insane. But Arisk knew that if he left, there wouldn't be any gift for him. And without that gift of greatness, Arisk couldn't return to his tribe. So Arisk started searching for some sort of water. Soon he found a grouping of brush, a good sign that there was some sort of underground water nearby. Laboriously, and with a great deal of sweat, Arisk managed to get the water flowing out of the ground, then he proceeded to dig trenches to hydrate the ground. Then he planted the seeds. Knowing the seeds wouldn't grow overnight, Arisk went about setting up shelter so he could tend his crops.
Days turned into weeks, and turned into months, but with care and alertness, Arisk managed to bring a crop of corn into this work. Finally with the corn harvested, Arisk sat down and called to the voice once more. Nothing happened. Arisk called louder, more incessantly, with the same outcome. No one responded, no voice came, no gift. Nothing.
Arisk was disgusted, all this time working with corn, planting it, weeding the ground, tending the water, making sure that the corn had the right environment to grow.  And this is how the Ancestors repaid him, with silence? Arisk was mad. He got up to leave when he heard the voice. "Oh, so quick to leave are we? Now at the end?"
Arisk froze. The Ancestors were here, they had kept their word afterall. Arisk was silent. Choosing his words with care, Arisk spoke, "I planted the corn as you asked, I tended it and then harvested it. I did everything in my power to do as you asked, can I now have my gift, the one that will make me great?"
The voice laughed a little, then replied, "you have always had your gift, you just needed to learn to be patient so you could find it.""
Winter's snowfall was silent for a moment. The young children looked around in puzzlement. This story hadn't made much sense. The old chief spoke once more, "You see children, Arisk had everything he already needed to be great within him. But by trying too hard and looking in the wrong places for greatness, Arisk could never see it. It was only once he became patient and willing to tend something to fruition that he actually discovered the greatness in himself."
The look of understanding dotted the faces of the children. Most had gotten the message, the other children were mulling it over, but Winter's snowfall felt they would eventually get it. Smiling, he look around. The women going about their tasks were gone now, onto another task. The children were safe to play again without scoldings. "Go, children, go play and look for the greatness inside you."
And with a squeal of pleasure, the children ran back out into the field.
Winter's snowfall smiled to himself. "Oh the joys of being a child," he thought. 

Memories of a sound now silenced

The dark presses in, with it the memories.
The music plays lightly, quietly, as if to respect the heaviness of my heart. It's here, in the darkness, in the silence that I miss you the most. I miss your laughter, your smile. I can almost hear the way you said my name. The music plays on, unheard, my ears hear only your voice.
In the silence of the night, I can hear your hearts cries. I know what it needs, it screams to me. There is no denying it. I know you try, I can see it eat at you. I know you only know peace when you can hear my voice. Yet, you refuse to call, you refuse to admit what is hidden in your heart. You know if you open your mouth, you will say that which you try to deny. Once said, it can never go back. So you avoid the situation altogether, pretending it will go away. Pretending you aren't misrable. You live a lie that slaps you in the face every time you look in the mirror.
I know all of this, because I know you. I know you hear footsteps and look to see if it's me. I know you check your phone constantly, hoping I will call or text. And still denying it to yourself that you desperately want to hear my voice.
I can't forget, it's in my bloodstream, there is no escape. So I lay here in the dark, dreaming of you. Memories are all that's left to me. C'est la vie.

Phone call

His hands were sweating profusely. He couldn't believe he was  actually going to do this. Alex cleared his throat nervously, unsure what was to come.
He picked up the phone, haltingly dialing the numbers. It seemed an eternity passed before the phone rang. Every second made his heart pound that much faster.
The phone rang three times, he was suddenly fearful that he would get her voicemail. On the fourth ring, a slightly older male voice answered. "Hello?"
It was her brother. Alex opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
"Hello?!" The word came gruffer and slightly annoyed.
Managing to force the words out, Alex replied breathlessly, "Hello, is Margaret there?"
His heart pounded in his chest like a stallion running free. "Yeah, hang on. (muffled yelling "margaret phone, some weirdo for you)"
The seconds passed like years, each one echoing in his head.
Finally, a voice came on the other line "hello?"
It was her, Alex's voice caught as he tried to answer. "he-hey, margaret, ho-how are you?"
"Who is this?"came her tart reply. Margaret was busy and not happy to be disturbed.
"it's Alex, from school." "Who?" "Alex, you know, the guy you cheat off of in math?"
"Oh, hey. So what do you want?" Margaret was not happy, he wasn't part of her circle and therefore shouldn't be bothering her like this.
"Well, I called to ask you to the dance," Alex said in a breathy rush.
"ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha"

New song that caught my ear

"Fiction"

Fiction, when we're not together
Mistaken for a vision, something of my own creation
I wake up alone, with only daylight between us
Last night the world was beneath us, tonight comes, dear love
Were we torn apart by the break of day?
You're more than I can believe, would ever come my way

Fiction, when we're not together
Mistaken for a vision, something of my own creation
Come real love, why do I refuse you?
Cause if my fear's right, I risk to lose you
And if I just might wake up alone
Bring on the night

Fiction, when we're not together
Mistaken for a vision, something of my own creation
Any certainties, how am I to tell?
I know your face all too well, still I wake up alone

Fiction, when we're not together

Dying felt so damned good today

If I was ever alive, well it's hard to say.
I lived once, in your arms, gazing into your eyes.
I knew heaven in your smile.
The days are cold and dark without the sunshine.
After over a week with rainy Seattle weather, we finally get sun and nice weather. But can I enjoy it? Ohhh no, I get sick. Feels like my lungs are hardening. Worries me a bit considering my uncle died of mesothelioma. I'll live, but until then, I'm complaining and whining like a baby. I wish you were here to take care of me.
How is it written words can convey so much information without a thing being said? Inference.
Oh to hear those keys jingling, the lock unturning. My life will continue to remain empty until then.
I have no regrets, it is what it is. I can't be any less than what I am, and what I am demands the whole thing or nothing.
Are you surprised? did you expect anything different? I fell by the wayside, an afterthought, forgotten. Ignore me and I leave. I know when I'm not wanted.
I am the ghost in the wind, the whisper of your name on the breeze. I am the hand on shoulder when no one is around, I am the warm feeling deep in the fabric.

Nirvana or some facsimile of it

I have reached a state of inner peace and consciousness. Nirvana. I see things so clearly now.
But then I have always known my future. Things make so much sense. There's no more bull, no confusion.
There is no more games, no more excuses. No more laughter, no more happy eyes.
Peace and quiet and solitude.

Shadows of a memory

The rain fell softly of the window. Little patters of noise. The kind of sound that makes one glad to be inside and dry.
The heater rumbled it's chattering noise, the orange glow of heat radiating out and filling the room. The sound was comforting, being warm was desirable.
The weather was cold and nasty, a rain that never seemed to end. He knew he couldn't stay hidden here forever, but that day seemed a long time away at the moment.
The bed was warm and comfortable. He pulled the covers up tight, enjoying the softness he experienced. It was a losing battie.
He tried to forget. Pretending she wasn't real, that it had all been some fantasy of his imagination. He knew the lie for what it was. Even the thought rang hollow.
He knew he had experienced more than most men. Loved and lost two fantastic women, made a fortune only to see it vanish, and he had once been a father.
Memories were all that was left for him. He had chosen his path long ago. There  never was another that could have replaced her, so he never bothered to look, just accepted the life given.
Remorse has set in, he wished the rain would wash away his memories. Wash it all away.
The rain fell softly and with it came the memories.