How am i slowly losing my mind(Story part 2)

Chapter3**w
After that the conversation turns dead, some small talk ensues but we eventually go our separate ways. " So do ya think i will see you around, maybe get a coffee or something?". Her eyes look tired, or bored, she gives me this almost sarcastic smile and says. " Maybe, i guess you never know.....".
     After awhile of walking,  i find this little lake covered by trees with this family run travel lodge out front. Some kids are playing, swimming, finding ways to beat the heat.  Underneath the trees to the left lays a picnic table,  i take a seat, just to watch the noise ensue. As i sit there, tidbits from our conversation come rushing in. I wonder why she thought the Whitman place wouldn't sell, there has to be a explanation. Even more so since she seemed so reluctant as to say why.  As i think this over,  having it go through my head numerous times, i start to wonder what my wife(or now ex wife) and kids are up to. She got custody, kicked me out, and told me never come back. Its hard to think my kids will grow up without me. But what can i say, i was never the ideal father, to put it nicely. I tried, i really did, but things have always seemed to go wrong, top that off with a job that had me travel a lot. When i finally opened my eyes long enough to realize i was losing them, it was too late. It was already over.
    Back at the house i walk past the phone on multiple occasions trying to force myself not to phone. But in time it passes. I go back to the talk i had with the redheaded woman, and how she appeared to stumble upon her words when i asked about this place, and whitman himself. But apparently there is a small library in town, maybe they will have some old newspapers i could look through. I find its starting to get late and its hard to remember if I have eaten all day. So at that I make my way to the kitchen to make a couple sandwiches, while afterwards sitting down to the couch, and a couple hours later, i find myself dozed off to the sound of white noise on the tv.
     Now, all the sudden i find myself in bed, eyes still trying to adjust as i feel something watching, waiting in silence. I get up and find this woman standing at my bedroom door, hand up against the corner in what appears to be a seductive pose.  I call out to her, thinking she might be my wife,  but as i get closer, she slowly disappears into the night. I quickly run into the hall, after her. But as i find out, she is no longer there.
   I awake with a quick jerk, and a pool of sweat running down my forehead. Finding myself still on the couch i start to wonder if it was a dream or not. And I can still somewhat remember her face, but she was not who i thought it was. Actually, i dont recognize her at all. After my usual morning routine, and a few cups of coffee, i make my way outside. The library is not too far off(of course nothing really is in this town).  On my way i bump into the usual faces, as they wave, nod, or give some form of recognition. The people sure are friendly 'round here, its nice actually.
      Inside the library, i find this old computer in the back in which i can look up old newspapers from around town. The whole room is small with shelves full of books jammed in every which way. Getting to the little computer area is much like cutting through a dense forest, wacking at the weeds trying to make a path only to find you're going in circles. But tough determination eventually Leeds you to the beautiful clear valley in which you were always headed.
     Since i dont know Whitmans first name, i have to search through the papers as such. At first i figured there couldn't possibly be to many people with that name, but page after page of search results would seem to disagree with me.  Twenty or so minutes in i am getting ready to give up,  when i come along this picture of this man and woman in front of this house that appears to be mine. The little write up below the picture says its mister and misses whitman. I look at it for a minute or so, as it seems somewhat familiar. And than it hits me, the woman in my room, it was whitmans wife. At this point, i almost fall backwards out of my chair. How could this be, it was only a dream wasnt it. My mind is racing in every direction, trying to come up with a reasonable solution.
    Theres a little write up on the bottom, saying that about how Jonathan whitman (as i finally now know his first name)  tried burning down his house. Apparently the cops got to him via a neighbors call. The cops came in and found his wife dead, laying on his bed in some kind of strange ritual, or how it appeared that way anyhow.  At the bottom of the page there is a few links to some pages associated with this story. The other one is about the trial, and how he was found innocent. But unfortunately the public opinion on him never changed. As i move on to the next article, it says that he hung himself in his bedroom closet, they think the public outcry drove him to it.
     For now i figure thats enough, the day is still young, and i can begin to feel the stomach slowly rumble to life like a bear just coming out of hibernation. I remember passing this little sandwich shop on my journey here, called la grotta i do believe. Inside, the walls are lined with every olive oil imaginable. Cheese and sliced deli meat run through the small cooler in front, abruptly dropping off to the counter were a man stands in wait.  After i order i sit on this park bench outside facing the intersection. Cars pass by on the fly  hardly noticing the stop sign that is clearly visible. Busy for around here.  Ten minutes or so of sitting there, i notice the redheaded woman across the street juxtaposed against the backdrop of the stores, that act as mountains, jutting upword at varying heights. I call out to her, and she looks around for a second figuring out where the sound came from.  Eventually she comes over and sits down beside me. " Hey, nice seeing you again, small world huh?". She says, giving off a slight distinct smile, showing off a small glimmer of teeth.
" Yeah, tell me about it". People pass every few minutes, many nodding in recognition, or just saying hi, even the few we don't know. " I went to the library, to look up Mr Whitman, to see what i may find". She looks over as if she is trying to hide something, giving off that look of a forced expression. " Oh yeah".  She says, staring off into nowhere.  " Did you find anything? ".  I am getting some idea that she knows more than she is telling me, just don't know why. " The whole story seems to be from some movie, its hard to know what to believe. But from what i have seen and read, his wife died, and he eventually tried to burn down his house in some strange ritual".  Giving me a quick glance, she stares down at her feet and says nothing. I want to say something, ask whats wrong, but i regress. An than out of nowhere, like some swift clip to the chin from some unknown fist, i fall as she asks. "Do you want to go get a coffee, bite to eat maybe?".

# Chapter4**
We end up in this little restaurant up the street. The atmosphere is dark with mood lighting laid throughout. We order a coffee and a couple bites to eat. Me some rice with this mushroom chicken(even though I already ate), her some fries and chicken strips. "So...". She says , somewhat leaning in elbows on the table." I  am only going to say this once, as this is not what you would call a popular subject around here". As i sit there playing with the rice, putting milk and sugar into my coffee, i try to put all ears onto what she is about to say. "But that house your living in, is cursed, or haunted. at least thats what this town believes".  I look at her, dumbfounded, not sure really what to say(or believe for that matter). "Yeah, right?". She gives that look, the one that says I know what I am talking about. "Seriously, this is what you think, that the town thinks.That the house is haunted, that's crazy". "There's a lot of odd things that have happened at that house. Things that cannot be explained in any other way". She says this in deadpan, appearing as if she hardly blinked.
     The place is beginning to get busy, and the waiters have seemingly multiplied. I have barely touched my food at this point, she munches on hers off and on almost uncontrollably so in fits n spurts. "OK..., lets say that it is haunted. That doesn't explain anything. Whitman trying to burn his house down was brought on by the death of his wife. I mean really, its a pretty traumatic thing to go through. I can't really blame the guy". The whole way through saying this I can't help but laugh. It just seems so ridiculous. She shakes her head in obvious disagreement though, as she motions the waiter over." Excuse me sir, but can I trouble you for another helping of fries?".  The waiter smiles as if he is greeting a relative he does not like, and replies."Of course,will there be anything else?". She looks at me, albiet briefly, and says back." No, thank you, that will be all".  A couple minutes of silence pursues, as we sit there waiting for the waiter, as far as I can tell anyway. When her plate finally arrives mine is almost done,  and my coffee has already been refilled a few times
     People at this point have come an gone, in a relatively short time, until finally she breaks down the silence. " You know, just because you may have read a few articles on the subject doesn't mean you know everything there is to know".
   "What do you mean, what else is there exactly?". She has this one fry in her hand that she, for some reason, waves it around waiting for something to say while chewing her food. " Whitman is only half the story, the last person to reside in that house. In the last ten or so years there has been three people in that house, including Whitman, that have eventually ended in disaster. I don't know how, or why, this has started, but someone has got to end it. If not, you might just be the next victim. If it was up to me, I would burn that fucker to the ground". I find myself at a little loss for words at this point. Torn between two worlds, is this true? Can it even be possible. "Why are you telling me this now, how do you even know all this?".  She puts the food down and leans her elbows on the table, and gives off this barely audible sigh. "This is not something I prefer to talk about, kind of one of those problems you want to just go away, as you can hardly believe it happened in the first place. You remind me of him actually, your mannerisms, the way you hold yourself. Even.... a slight resemblence I might say".
    "Who do I resemble?". I ask with slight pause, probably appearing a little confused. Although she stares off into nowhere apparently in some thought, or memory, she eventually snaps out and says." My husband, my husband. That's who you resemble. He was". She stops for a second here, and clears her throat." He was, or should I say, we were, the second couple to live in that house. Eventually it got him as well, almost took me with him". At this point in time my jaw has effectively hit the floor, it was not something I saw coming. She must see me at this time like some deer caught in the headlights of some random oncoming car, not really too sure what to do." Well what, what ummm! What happened. If you don't mind me asking". You can hear the surprise in my voice. As I try to make the words form and eventually come out of my mouth." No, I don't mind you asking, I don't. We lived there for about three years. He changed though, started to get violent. He used to tell me about this dreams he had, kind of like the one you told me about. Had them for awhile too, from what he told me anyway. Eventually I told him to confront her, ask her what she wants, after all, it was just a dream, right?. I guess I was wrong. Things started to go south from there. Sooner or later this... uhh,madness, I guess you can call it, prevailed, and he shot himself, down in the basement.
  "I.., I had no idea, I'm sorry that happened".  She stares down at the table, not saying a word. Its hard to believe this whole story, seems as if its some plot from some Hollywood movie or something. But, I can't see why she would lie about this. Especially since her emotions are temporarily getting the best of her. So, logically thinking, its got to be true. Its got to be, but how?. "There's no reason to be sorry, really". She tells me somewhat perking up." I haven't told that story in quite some time. So I apologize for my sudden emotional state". Seeing that we have only met a few times, this may come off as odd but.. that seems a bit out of character for her. I am not the one to believe in the paranormal, but after seeing and hearing all this I must say, it seems as though there is no other explanation." All this is much to take, I was never a believer in this sorta thing. I am at a loss for words". My mind at this point goes in different directions, half is thinking how dumb this sounds, but the other is residing in the facts and the unlikelyhood of her telling this enormous lie for no apparent reason." I have never said this was going to be easy, but there is something about that place, it does things to people. I don't know, it could be some huge coincidence, but that is something I highly! doubt".  At this point the food has been eaten, and the table been cleaned. As she is about to get up I ask her one more question." Before you leave may I ask, If i saw Ms Whitman,at least I think I did, who did your husband see?" She looks down at me, and puts one hand on the table and says. "Well, Ms Whitman.... of course." As I look in disbelief, I utter." But, how?". She sighs and tells me."I struggle with that question everyday". She says this and walks out, and with  this I guess, we can most definitely rule out coincidence.

But as we must

As we must,
And must               
We all

From fatal
To flaw,

From hand or paw

And together
is not,
(An end)
Begin

Or friend..

And what a sad life we must leave..

He has got those sad eyes, the ones that appear to always be frowning. His hair is short, cropped, partly shaven, and his facial hair hides him from the outside world. The attitude he protrudes is apparently grim, but has the time now again for bouts of laughter, or happiness. He never has really said too much, about himself anyways. Usually keeps certain things as if under lock an key. He told me once, that its all apart of life, the degrading of the body, the degrading of the mind. Its the only way to find peace he says, with oneself, and otherwise. I for one, happen to not agree.

How am I slowly losing my mind

                               Chapter 1


I can hear the sound of crackling wood and broken windows echoing of as if from a distance. An in the end, all that remains of my house is the charred and burnt offerings of what once was. As the fire reaches its final conclusion,  and i can maybe once again move on.
       I am just moving into a new place,  a new town,  ready to begin an start over. Me and my wife of ten years just got a divorce, so i thought maybe its time to go, try something different.  Its a small little quiet town, not too far off from the city, where the people are nice and curtious. " Hey mac, your new around here...., aren't cha?". I look up, to see who it might be, and begin. "Yeah, yeah, just bought the place a few weeks ago". The yard is covered with boxes that jut out of the ground like pillars, and the closest house to mine is pushed off by empty space. " Well its always nice to have someone new around here. So where you from now anyhow?". He has on these gray shorts, like khakis,  with (oddly enough) suspenders that don't really fit into this whole ensemble he has going on.  On top he has this weird  green cardigan and really short hair with one of those seventy mustaches all the hipster kids are sporting nowadays. Strange, if i may say so myself.  " Just uptown,  the city actually".  We continue talking as i carry things inside, he follows shortly behind getting in the way more so than not. The living room is somewhat set up, so i offer him a drink and we pass small talk back an forth for a few. After about five or so minutes though. " Oh man,  i... . I gotta,  i gotta go".  He gets up and heads for the door. " Sorry to leave in such a hurry,  but". And once again, it's quiet.  Its weird being alone, in a empty house. No screaming or others telling me to do (or fix) certain things.
      Its the end of the day an the move is done. Boxes upon boxes stack up onto the wall, an the kitchen is filled with misplaced dishes and cutlery that apparently have no home. The living room is mostly set up with just having to call the cable man in the morning. Outside the night slowly creaks in as well as all the odd sounds that emanate from the walls and floorboards. No kids to feed, an no wife to talk to about the day. 
      Upstairs the bed is waiting, the blankets still cold from being outside with nobody to warm them. Its hard after all these years to sleep on your own. But after awhile, of tossing an turning, i finally drift away.
      I awake in the morning with the alarm ringing throughout my ears, and a knock upon my door. Downstairs as i open it i see the cable man tapping his toe to some imaginary beat. " Oh hey, please come in,  come in". He steps in and takes a quick look around and says. " So, is that the tv, right over there?". I give him this blank look, trying to hide the confusion from my face. " Yeah, yeah, its just right over there". He begins taking out this metal type suitcase looking as if he is going to pull out some revolver and begin putting bullet holes in walls and whatever else might get in the way. But Its just the receiver, box or whatever you might call it.  He goes about his work without speak, the silence permeates and clings to your skin like beads of sweat. And as the television screen starts to climb an claw its way back to life,  like some injured animal, a somewhat smile comes over his face. Almost menacingly so. " Okay sir, that should just about do it".  He hands the controller over and. " If you want, i can tell you how to work it? ".  He says this speaking like some james bond villain. "No, no its fine, i believe i can figure it out".  He gives off another odd smile as he closes the door behind him, and as he's gone i can almost feel his presence is still here. Almost as if he left apart of himself, crazy... i know, or maybe just the first time being on my own.
      The house is once again empty, so i go over to see whats on, but the tv is now off. " Wait, wasn't that on just a minute ago? ".  I search my brain trying to remember , but to no avail. My memory as i get older is starting to make that grand exit. Going back to that eternal being from whence it came, or something like that. " Oh well, whatever, i guess it can stay off for know". As i take a look around,  i can see the boxes are still making mountains, as the carpet is its valley, so i figure maybe its time to put things away. I seem to misplace things here an there as i while away the day unpacking. Its just little things really, but at the end gets almost creepy. Stuff will move and drawers will open or close, either that or my mind is really starting to go. The day goes by fairly fast, packing, tv and generalizations. At about ten o clock i fall asleep, on the couch, with broken down and empty boxes surrounding.

                            Chapter 2

I got a headache, and the morning sun fighting it's way through the broken blinds don't help. And I had these dreams last night, with me running through the darkness with an unseen terror. But now, off in the distance, i can hear the slight sounds of music, so i take a quick look around the house to see what it might be. But as per usual, nothing comes about.  I guess maybe its probably outside. As just out and down a couple blocks lies the, what some might call, the city center. And it is there that i decide to take a nice stroll, get some coffee and maybe meet the locals. After about a five minute walk i arrive, with rows of vintage buildings masquerading as coffee, clothing, and other miscellaneous shops. Everything almost seems out of place, as you can tell the stores weren't made for the use there used for now. It reminds me of one of those perfect little made up towns you might see on tv. Unrealistically so, but than again i am from the city, so its not something i am used to. I grab a coffee from this little family run place and find my way to this this park in the center of things. Kids play as the parents sit and talk amongst each other about random things that happened throughout the day. In behind there lies a field partially covered by trees, with picnic tables scattered throughout. Apparently this is where all the teenagers hangout. Wierd little place that reminds me of the street i live on back home. I take a seat just off of where the playground sits as to not appear creepy. The sun shines down upon us, glazing the town in an almost silvery glow, as the noise of kids, children and people in general surround and make it hard to distinguish any one voice.  I am about half way through my coffee when this woman sits down beside me, with hair so red it makes attempts to set the sky on fire. She wears this worn in blue plaid shirt with jeans that have a single tear in one of the knees. " I don't believe i have ever seen you around these parts before?". I set down my coffee beside me, watching the kids all run around in circles, screaming. " no, no, i imagine not. I just moved in down the block, second an Victoria i believe".  " Oh yeah, yeah, i know that place". She says looking back, in the wrong direction. " That's the old whitman place". She gives off this look i won't soon forget, a almost cringe like state as if she tasted something a bit off. " What was that look for?". I ask her, not really expecting anything back. " Oh nothing".  She says almost sighing.  " Its just....  You know what, don't worry about it". I am a little curious now,  usually i would just leave it at that and change the subject, but this time i suddenly feel the urge to push a bit further. " No,  wait, what were you going to say?".  She looks off in the distance for about a minute or so, not saying a word, and then she begins. " Its just i never thought the whitman house would ever sell, thats all". The idea as of why is now running through my mind digging out the craziest solutions to that little problem. But i decide now to leave it at that. " So what exactly do people do in this town for fun?". Giving off a chuckle, she looks out at all the children playing, that has now seemed to grow, and are on the verge of breaking the borders of the park. " you'd be looking at it". " Really? ".  I ask her in disbelief."  " Yeah".  She says with a slight pause. " Theres not much to do around these parts". This follows by a few minutes of silence, as we both watch the scene taking place around us.
" I think maybe you have been living here too long, taking things for granted". The town is covered by trees, that are juxtaposed by the backdrop of the circling mountains. An the air smells of pine, and fresh water. " Yeah, and why do you say that?". " I dont know, i just think sometimes you got to be a tourist in your own town". She looks over, slightly, and says. " Your probably right, but after awhile even the brightest of things turn dull".

Morning bluess

"So, what do you want to do today!". I ask myself, realizing theres no one else around. My eyes are still tired and a bit out of focus, and the open window allows a little breeze come through the suffocating heat. after about a half hour or so, the coffee is made as i sit on the couch watching the tv like a vegetable, or a coma patient. As the walls start vibrating, and the floors begin to move in circles. Dehydration. I grab a water and make my way outside, a nice walk could do wonders.

The difference of perception...

I can hear the murmured sounds of the distant voices crackle in laughter, as they all watch and prey, ( and get up off there feet). And there eyes are upon my skin, as i walk in corners watching the sidewalk pass below my feet. The store windows seem to follow as the buildings swing and sway an speak in whispered tones.  But my hands shake, as i attempt to light a cigerette in the  side alley away from the oncoming wind. And than a man approaches. " hey, can i get a smoke from ya?".  i give him a quick look, assessing the situation, just in case, cause you never know. His hair is long and dirty, from years of unwash. He has on this long greyish trenchcoat, or at least it has the apparent perception of grey, with holes throughout. His sleeves are too long for his arms, and he wears these fifties glasses, the ones with no rims on the bottom. His jeans though, are actually pretty nice. " Yeah, sure, no problem, no problem at all". I hand him one as he smiles, almost cautiously, nods his head and begins on his way. Looking around at this small chunk of city that surrounds, puffs of smoke arise and filter throughout the already polluted air, I cant help but notice things look a little different. A little off,  as if theres been some weird shift throughout the cosmos, or just in my mind. While walking up the street i still have the feeling of unseen eyes ever following, but it usually passes, after awhile, before it once again arises. I head into this small corner store up ahead, right after i stub out the cigerette. As this voice rushes in out of nowhere. " Hey you, you, what the hell you want?". I quickly turn around, arms raised, trying to get ready for whats about to come. This man comes barreling towards me like a rhinoceros, or an elephant. Yelling, screaming and waving his arms. Some kind of madman. I duck down, knocking over small shelves full of those cheap comic books nobody wants, as he swings his fists toward my head. So i quickly slip out and make way down the street, a block or so. As now i can see him by his front door hopping up an down like some red faced babboon. Wiping the small beads of sweat that have accumulated on my brow, i start to wonder whats going on. This cant be just a coincidence. I have been in that place thousands of times, without a hitch. I dont know, maybe he mistaken me for another. Across the street though, lies a coffee shop, one of those try to hard hipster ones. I figure, maybe i will have better luck over there. I go in and do my thing, order, pay, and whatever. Outside they have those crappy tables and chairs that nobody likes, the ones made out of metal that are supposed to be artfully laced. And the only time you see them is in some shit garden your grandma has. Or some wannabe rich person. People pass by without any attention, and slowly things start to fit into place. This table, as always, rocks back and forth as it tries to settle onto the crooked ground. I end up getting up, mostly from shear uncomfortableness, which i am sure is the purpose of the cafe. Just behind lies rows of houses standing in straight lines watching there neighboring selves across the way. Most the houses here are vintage, and in being so look somewhat alot alike. Like crayons all lined up nicely in there respective boxes, all the colors of the rainbow. Except these are all old an dirty,(and.. have a certain charm, i suppose,)as the yards are about the best thing they have going. Theres a school that lies in the middle of all this, that appears to always be empty. A few people are only ever there in the field playing with dogs or are just, well, there. My house is in all this, in back alleys squeezed inbetween everyother that have eventually muscled there way in through the years. The yard is ratty and undistured, with no plants or trees calling it home. Theres some patio stairs that are a peeling grey, with the steps and rails ready to give up and fall at any moment. As i attempt to open the door i find it locked, and as i try my keys the door again fails to open. The small window that is clouded over with dirt and whatever else might have found there way onto it is closed off with a equally crappy  off colored blind. Finally after a minute or so trying to jimmy my key into the lock, my roommate comes and opens the door. " Uhh, can i help you?". He gives me this confused look as if he never seen me before. " Stop messing man, and just let me in". He stands there, kinda like some long haired otter with messed hair and looking as if he is a bit too laid back. " I'm sorry, but i have never seen you before so". He pauses for a second, and by the look on his face, i can tell he means it, but i dont know if i believe it myself. " I am closing the door now". He says as the door creaks slowly closed, but with a deafening thud. I turn around and notice, that once again, my hands do shake, as i try to light a cigerette. Have i gone crazy, or am i just hallucinating. I stand there for a second contemplating this, as i figure what to do, or think, for that matter. Going around to the front of the house, i remember the other suite. It lies just beside our front door, and up a few steps. So as i knock the door slightly opens, and i begin." I know this is weird, but". And i pause, giving off a slight sigh knowing what i am asking next. " But, i live downstairs, and my roommate is acting odd, everybody actually, seems to, Well... You know". He looks me up and down and says." He doesnt have a roommate". He smiles, one of those creeped out and confused smiles, and closes the door. And my cigerette now hangs in the balance(among other things)of falling. Outside on the patio  the world is almost as it once was, a possible shift, maybe. As i look at the address on the door, i cant believe my eyes, but.... The numbers are different, and maybe, just maybe, so is this world.

an than i fell...

Than i fell,

(gradually, at first)

intothedarksadness

ofbirth

and as the road drove,

an angry curve,

i followed its path,

and died of thirst..

Untitled

So
Run run
Run...

Somewhere,
Someone.

For the eyes
Do drown,
And the mindd
Does
Numb.

And time,..
Does Last,
a day?,
A year?,

A son.

untitled....\*

Fireupthestickto
calmthenervess calm
the nerrves calm
the nervesso
eeasyriding can enter
the scene lurched back
with the foot!... to the floor
catching the curves gearing

downdowndowndowndown

than flarrring, revving, killing the clutch
to a frenzied blowout

(asleep at the wheel)

and what a wonderful ache
to the head, blue an red
blue n red. That with an
in, an blink of an eye, an
blur to the head,

and timerevves its engines,
for the get go,
                      go ahead. ?

Now i plan to sleep.

Now i plan
to sleep, till
days end..

and disappear,
(past tense)

wash away,
rivers end.

earlymorning,
noon spent.

fly, float,
soon...
went.

Internal breathing...//

Think,

(But how)
As they.

When life
Like these,

Like death
& please,

Will I,,
But would/

Or did

And as
Do I, may
See.

And the monster rises. Chapter 4 - Into the depths of the tunnels below

The people have emptied, and I try to catch my balance as the city moves from side to side, but just slightly of course. We stand on top of the stairwell, leading down, a little frightened, a little excited, for what I don't know. " So, are you sure about this?". I ask, trying to make conversation. she wipes the dirt from her face, and laughs " As the old saying goes, I am ready for anything. Why, your not afraid are you?. " Me? No, of course not. Its not like there's anything to be afraid of". She starts walking down the stairs, takes about three steps, pauses, and turns her head towards me. " Don't you worry". She says with a wry smile. " I will go first". Walking down, I can't help but realize how oddly quick we have apparently bonded. Maybe we knew each other in a different life, maybe in extreme circumstances people tend to act different. Its hard to say really. I have gradually found that being myself in life really isn't a option, but in this case, it almost seems plausible. You know what they say though, those who forget history... " Watch out for that last step." She says, but it being to dark to see, can't see her current expression, or exact whereabouts as well. We are at the presumably bottom now, I turn on my flashlight, and she hers. I don't say it, but I do wonder why we didn't earlier. " Its hard to see exactly where were going but I believe we go left, that should lead us to the tracks, that eventually head on out of the city". I ponder this for a second. " What do you think?". I can slightly see her face now, with the residual runoff of the light, she looks both ways with the flashlight lighting the way. " You know what? I think you may just be right". I can see the echoes of the porcelain walls shimmer and shine in a most peculiar way, as the cement posts line up like soldiers, ready for war. We are in a long corridor now, with walls on both sides of us, we make our way with careful precision, as I almost miss the stairs that suddenly show up out of nowhere. Its getting darker now, the deeper we venture, if that is at all possible. As our flashlights are starting to succumb to it. And I find myself reaching out for some type of stability. But I can still see her in the near distance, like a ghost, making her way through acting as she does this day in and day out. " How do you know where your going, when its so dark in here?". I ask with a look of puzzlement, that she probably may not be able to see. "Oh, I have my ways, I have my ways". Her face is covered, and I can't quite make out the features, but I imagine her saying this with a wry grin, as I wonder exactly what she means by this statement. " So in other words, what your saying is, your not gonna tell me?". She doesn't answer this, and silence follows for about five minutes, when all of a sudden. ". Okay, so I think this is it, the tracks are down there. So if we just follow those, heading down, we should make it outside the city in relatively no time". We climb down to the tracks, and I kneel down to feel for any vibrations, just to be sure. Suddenly I just realize, I don't know anything about this girl, she could be some crazed mass murderer, for all I know. " You know what?". I pause, waiting for a answer that will never come." I really don't know anything about you". She stops for a second, with apparent opposition, or surprise. Maybe this was a question I should not have asked. " No, I guess you don't".

Sooner or later, i will be a disappointment to everyone.

All is quiet, and the only sound is the sound of the wipers screeching across the windshield. The passenger seat is empty, as per usual, and cars whiz by in fits and blurrs. Its getting to be dark outside, and its at these types of nights I can feel the oncoming of loneliness in the air. I can see the reflections on the streets of the people I lost, and the clouds overhead are rumbling, in some apparent disagreement. While off in the distance I can see the outcast colors of the sun as its swallowed by the mountains, that tend to glow with mutiple points of seemingly unreachable light, as if emanating from heaven, or the valleys below.

And the monster rises. Chapter 3 - The monster walks

I am quite aways off now, and in the distance I can see him. As if I am dreaming, I keep closing my eyes hoping to wake up. I can see my building,slowly crumble, taking everything I own down with it. Coming over here I passed tanks, jeeps, and military men. Acting as they are going to war, which in a sense, I guess kinda are. I am still in the downtown core, with groups of people who are all penetrated with fear. I can see it in there eyes, mothers clutching babies, kids crying off in the distance as family's embrace each other, such love. I really don't have anybody myself, to embrace, to hold in my arms. But that's a different story. At this point I am not too sure what to do, I have been here for about half an hour, but the creature comes ever closer. So at that I remember a subway entrance just a block or two from here, maybe the deeper I go the better. I am hoping to just kind of wait it out, like the many others I see. There is not really a manual for this type of thing, even though certain movies do advise against this kind of move, I am going to take my chances. For who knows what else may be crawling out around here. Or down there for that matter, but I think this just might be best case scenario. The subway tunnels should lead us almost out of the city. The city built them years ago, as a kind of shelter as well in case of nuclear war. It was a bigger deal back then I suppose. Nowadays, we have other things to worry about. As I head to the entrance I pass a little corner store of sorts, pause for a second, and decide to see just to make sure I need anything else. I pace myself through the isles trying to catch everything, while getting myself to get out as fast as I can. I grab some batteries for the flashlight, and head to the back counter to grab a pack a cigarettes. I quit, but I think I can be pardoned, seeing as what's happening outside. To my surprise though, I find a woman crouching behind and frightened. " Miss". Slight pause for confusion. "but is everything okay. do u need any help?". She pulls back a bit, as if she has been suddenly caught of guard. " Jesus mister, you scared the hell out of me, what do u want,anyways". I shrug my shoulders and grab a pack of canadians of the shelf. " Sorry miss, but I don't think this is the best of hiding places, but I guess that's not for me to decide". As I am about to walk out I hear her voice stopping me in my tracks, with a kind of crackly tone mixed with a bout of fear. " I have a name you know". I turn around and look at her for a second. She's shorter, of sorts, maybe around 5" 5 or something. With long thick black hair that partially covers her face, she wears this black faded hoodie with what appears to be a eagle on the top left shoulder. And her jeans a faded blue with what can only be called the beginnings of holes on the right knee. Her face is somewhat covered in dirt as well as her jeans from where she was sitting behind the counter. " It appears that, you had some company lately". She smiles cautiously, almost with a sigh of relief. " It does appear, doesn't it?. My name is anthony by the way." Telling me as she begins to walk towards me, like a cautious animal. " So mister, where are you headed. A change of scenery wouldn't be, you know". She shrugs her shoulders scanning the area slightly, with a smile on her face. " The worse thing in the world". Outside the people are beginning to make there way by, as you can start to feel the ground somewhat begin to shake around us. Like a earthquake, or a tremor, that comes ever closer. " Well, I am headed out of the city, I figure the subway tunnels might be the best way right now. Why do u ask?". She is about five or so feet from me now, as the stock that still clings to the shelf start to slowly fall off. " Oh, no reason, I just thought you might need some company".

And the monster rises. Chapter 2 - As I run in terror

I am getting close, as the monster towers before me. Its tentacles wrap around buildings and cover the streets, bathing the city as if it were its plaything. And they look to be about three stories tall, as the city is eeriely quiet. It still hasn't appeared to move for some time, I don't know, maybe its just dead. So standing beside this Thing, the complete shear awe of it washes over me. The unbelievable size is just... Monstrous. Even more so when almost next to it. I can start to feel my mind now race in fear, of all the unknown possibilities. So I begin to make my way back, going ever so faster the farther I get. But at about two or three blocks, I start to hear the rumbles of terror, that end up shaking beneath my feet. I turn around and I see the monster rise as the city begins to crumble at its ( metaphorically speaking) feet. Like a scene from a godzilla movie, buildings start to buckle under the weight while huge chunks of metal or concrete start to come down before me. And I run in terror, as massive pieces fall, while I duck for cover with car alarms going off and the deafening noise of chaos shatters through my earlobes disinfecting the brain. I am a little ways off now, and in the distance I can see the thing wail its arms about taking out city blocks as if they were miniature lego landscapes. The sounds of helicopters in the distance finally makes there way through, and the people are few and far between. I am right by my apartment building now, as I contemplate going inside to pick up a few things, just in case it might all come down. So I stand there for a minute and figure, fuck it, I still got some time. I run upstairs not taking the chance with the elevator, as I seen to many movies where that ended badly. Inside I grab a backpack from the closet, and stuff it with water, some food,a hunting knife I am not sure why I have, and a few personal belongings I wouldn't want to let go. Taking one last look at the place, as if saying goodbye, I shut the door for what I hope is not the last time. Making my way down the stairs once more, I start to feel the gound shake, I pause for a second in a brief moment of confusion, than run ever faster outside. The creature is closer, than it was. Creeping its way to the downtown core. What does it want? What could it possibly be looking for? These questions I do not know.

And the monster rises.

I always liked the beach, the sand between your toes, the smell of the ocean and the waves undulating against the very edge of the sands. I come here quite often, to get away from the constant noise of the city, and the putrid smell of the exhaust that seems to come out of everything that passes. The city lays just behind, with the beach just in front. So you can still somewhat hear the remnants try to overcome, as I stand here, watching the very edge of the earth, in the far distance. I can feel the ocean beneath my feet, as the wet sand is as though it will pull me under. To the right lies the pier, like the long arm of god it reaches out carrying the likes of families, lovers, and children. The clouds paint the sky like a van gogh painting, and the screaming of children fades to the background, as do all others. After about a hour or so though, I give off a sigh, stare at the sand and head back. As I cross the street the city begins, coming out of the ground like monoliths or a petrified forest. A stark difference to the beach behind. The noises now rush in, penetrating the earlobes and ransacking the brain. Its hard to think straight. Up ahead lies a diner, one of those ones that looks like its straight out of that fifties b-movie the blob. The glowing red neon sign out front washes over the street, giving off a slight buzzing. I go inside and have a coffee, sitting at the front table on a stool. I can hear the news on the tv talking about that strange sighting on the coast of here, just a few miles from where I was on the beach. All the wild speculation of sea monsters and such, such bull. If there where things creeping under, we would have found them by now. The waitress comes over after awhile, she has short short hair, and the bluest eyes you have ever seen. " Hey there, you need a refill". She says with this almost sarcastic smile. " Maybe just one more, and that will be it". You can see the glow in her eyes start to sprinkle, almost as if there once more, rising from the depths. "Yeah, sure honey, that's what they all say". The news is still going on about the so called incident, saying how in the sixties or seventies there might have been some nuclear tests out in the deep ocean not too far from here. Speculation, I might add. It has been all top secret, and never been proven. I pay for my coffees, and head on back outside, the wind has started up, and beggars have now infiltrated the sidewalks. The streets are bustling with people and tourists alike, and the noise can drive a sane man crazy. My place is just a few blocks up, in some old apartment building on the third floor. Its funny to watch the people clutching there hats, almost as if its the only thing they might have left. Inside the apartment building, I run into one of the other tenants, he doesn't know my name I don't know his, and I would rather keep it that way. " Hello, Mr. Man". As he likes to call me. " How are you this fine day?" He is one of those people that are overly happy, being with them too long will guarantee to make you sick. " I am doing good, just on my way back from the beach, yourself?". His hair always seems to be perpetually messed, and he lives in this old ratty sports jacket, an ugly brown that looks as though the moths had a field day. His jeans are broken, and ripped, but other than that, he is not what you would call a ugly guy. Apparently he has two kids, and even worse, an overbearing wife (whom I met, and agree) in which makes this little style choice make more sense. Upstairs in the apartment I turn on the lights and everything is as I left, not that there's any reason it shouldn't. I go to the kitchen and turn the lights on, and begin to make a sandwich. A peanut butter and jam, nice and simple. I turn the television on and nameless so calleds spurt out all types of bullshit trying to throw out there wears and what not while trying to subtly call you stupid. All mindless woman with sex appeal and kids having fun because of some product placement. So as you can see, I turn the tv off, and I decide to read. With a few intervals of food and what have you, in between. I end up falling asleep on the couch with my cardigan on, only to wake in the morning with a somewhat sore back. And the radio on,trying to get me up out of bed. So I roll over and push the snooze button, but a noise still slowly rumbles that I never heard before. " What the hell?". I silently mumble, realizing I am by myself. As I stumble out of bed the whole building shakes as if a bomb just went off. I make my way to the porch, outside. The world is still a little fuzzy, but as my eyes adjust, I almost drop to the floor. But after I take a minute to compose myself, I quickly throw on the cardigan and slip on my shoes all while running out the door. Outside others have all but done the same. I turn the corner to face the same way of my porch, cautious, as to not wake a slumbering beast. And as I look upon the skyline, I see what can only be found as arms, or tenticles of sorts. Except exceptionally big, as if the city has shrunk down to nothing. I look to the man standing next to me, on my right. " What's going on, what is that... That thing?". He looks to me, his face seemingly frozen in some silent panic. " I.. I don't know, it". He pauses for a few, trying to once again compose himself. " Its an octopus, only, bigger, I guess". We both stare off into the distance, watching the creature, it doesn't seem to have moved in some time. Its tentacles cradling the buildings before it like playthings. We still can't see its body now, if it does perhaps have one. " Well, I don't know about you mister, but I am going to get a closer look". I turn away, starting to walk closer. But not before someone grabs my arm. " Are you sure you want to do this?, we don't know anything about that thing. Or what its, capable of.

I am an antler, ready to fall off..

Hope,
Like with

Shows up
But after

But silence,

Is like a kiss,
That does not,

(Disaster.)

chapter two;Things get a little, ( pause for effect) stranger.

He leans in a little closer now, putting out his cigarette underneath the table, with his shoe, I suppose. " Listen closely Mr. Conner's, because things are about to get a little, strange. But you can think of me as a kind of police force, if you will". The diner now is starting to fill up a bit more, for the early afternoon rush. Outside the rain still falls, making those sweet sounds of patter against the window, and people all cover themselves over as if the rain just might be toxic." A police force?". I ask repeating." What government are you under". He gives a little chuckle, but his lips do not move at all. " Government?, Mr. Conner's. No, we are of no government. In fact, we are not of this". Another short pause, acting as if he might be reciting Shakespeare or something." As you might say, plane of existence. If you want to call it that". I lean back in my seat now, with a slight smile. This man must be crazy, some kook from outside with a schizophrenic disorder. I don't know, maybe he gets his kicks off making others the fool. " What is this, some kind of joke or something, do you really think I am going to fall for this?" The waitress comes by and cleans up the table, plates and what not. We both go silent, and I order another coffee. " I see Mr. Conner's, I see. I predicted this event would come about. For you see, you are blinded. Narrowly going through life never fully realizing the veil that covers you". His voice is almost ominous now, as his eyes are all but serious . " There are other things beyond certain doors Mr. Conner's, between the holes in the fabric of space, that you could not possible realize". He leans back now, with arms on the table, lighting up another cigarette, almost as if the place has gone dark and we are all trying to find our way. " So, what exactly are you saying here? What, am I in the matrix or something?" I give off a slight laugh, waving my hands in a general area. His expression on the other hand, does not seem to change, but nonetheless, somehow doesn't seem amused. "No Mr. Conner's, no. I think you people watch to many movies. Which you must realize, is not exactly accurate, Mr. Conner's". The place is filling up now, and the noise from others are starting to overcome. He does a short scan of the surrounding environment, puffing away as the smoke rises and slowly disappears. Where?, I am not sure. " So Mr. Conner's, I ask you again, you need to come with me".

Chapter one:For all I know, you could be anybody.

The diner is empty, and as I sit by the window with my coffee and half eaten plate of eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns. A man suddenly walks in, wearing a grey suit straight out of a thirties cop movie, fedora and all. I don't pay much attention. Until he continues over and begins to sit next to me. His face is expressionless, with no real features to say of. If I had to describe him to somebody, I would probably be at a loss. He lights up a cigerette, but no one seems to care. " How are you, mister conners?" He asks in a quite non-descript voice. " I have come here today with some news". He pauses for about ten or so seconds, puffing away. " I think you should hear". Usually when a strange man sits next to me, I would be suspicious, I mean who wouldn't. But for some reason unknown. I remain calm, trusting him for no apparent reason. To a certain extent anyways. " How do you know who I am?". I ask while finishing up my coffee. " I know a lot about you mr. Conners, but right now that is not important". The waitress once more comes around and pours some more coffee. I add two milks and four spoons of sugar, taking a sip to test how hot it might be." I have to say, at this moment in time, it seems fairly important". He cracks a wry smile." Maybe so, maybe so. But all in do time mr. Conners, all in due time. First I think you might have to come with me, there is something that you, need to know". He looks at me with those dead eyes, and featureless features. I am staring at him right now, and still having a hard time remembering what he looks like. " You don't really expect me to drop everything, and come willingly, do you. For all I know, you could be anybody". And he laughs, just a little." Okay Mr. Conners, okay". I find he has a certain tendency to repeat himself, as if either one of us is not quite understanding what he's saying." But remember this, this is for your ears only, and you tell no one".

As you come, (but) slower...

She leave
Like lust,

And love
Like over,

"As I
Show need."

And togethor
We must

As you come,
(But) slower.

A time to breathe?

Or a time of not,
But what,

           Does she?

The boarded room( I am wooden shingle.)

Help,
With -
deathh, as over

Andsaid
With
Joy

(Whatever)

But did he?
He did,?

But did
Not.

Moving slowly,.

As was
But once
And noww
so,,

Disconnected
Dis-connect,
Time machine.

And have we,
Have long
A time ago,

Maybe?, or
Maybe so..

But not,
But maybe after.

Let the mountains rise up/let the waters take over..

The city turns to suburbs, as the suburbs turn to farms. Slowly allowing the forest and the trees to take over. As the mountains rise up out of the ground as if by accident. " Are you hungry?". I ask, almost in mid-thought. She looks up with puzzlement, that gives way to a moment of silence. " I could go for something". We are about an hour and a half away now, just outside of hope, on our way to her cabin by lac la jeune. The sun outside beats down upon the road spreading its wings as it passes through the windshield, and the clouds up ahead are starting to gather. " There's a tims in town?". Asking outloud. And she slowly cracks a little smile." Yeah, okay, I could go for that". I take the next exit and head into town, the trees slowly dissipate and part ways allowing room for the buildings, cars and whatever else. Little shops line the streets, like soldiers preparing for battle, that end off usually with a gas station or some mom and pops restaurant. And next to the gas station to the left lies the tim hortons. Inside, we get our usual ( breakfast sandwich with bacon, hash brown, and a coffee) and take a seat by the window." So how long do you think we have?". Asking as she stirs her coffee. " You mean till we get there?". I say aloud, thinking to myself. "Yeah". She answers in this high type voice, as if the word has lost all meaning, or someone just did the hiemlich on her and it just suddenly shot out. " Oh,I don't know". I tell her, pausing sufficiently enough to seem as though, I might be calculating it in my head. " I would have to say about two hours and we should be pulling up". The crowd in here is now starting to multiply, and the line up is now almost out the door. Its warm outside, and I can feel the warmth coming through the windows. The mountains are in plain view, and you can see the clouds litter the sky every once in a while. " Do you think you might want to stop in merrit as per usual?". Every time we come up this way we stop in merrit. About half way to kamloops, three quarters the way to her cabin. Its become a kind of ritual as it may. There's this triple O's in town she likes. She thinks about this for a second and eventually shrugs her shoulders." I don't know, let's see once we get there. It should be lunch by than anyhow". I smile at this, nodding my head while simultaneously drinking my coffee. Afterwards we get up and try to find our way outside, as if passing through the labyrinth of the gods waiting for the minotaur at the end. And the radio plays godspeed you black emperor, as the strings slowly ascend to chaos with field recordings bursting out in between every once in awhile. I love driving down the highway in the middle of nowhere. You get to the point of believing the apocalypse might have happened as just at that point you hit some small town city somewhere. After about a hour or so, though, of driving, the earth begins to crack open forming valleys below. Grassy fields rise up as all the trees slowly dissipate and disappear, while over the cliff up ahead I can now see the inklings of society almost like it has been lost for centuries. A small town literally in the middle of nowhere. " Do you want to stop here, or just make our way through. We aren't too far off now, so?". I end kind of trailing off mid thought. As she sits for a minute, acting as if she never heard me.

Alternate ending/Amibreathingheavy

And
Can I,..
(Of all things)

Think of what
And What
Brings.

In love,
sorrow,

And the
Meaningof
Mustt

Soafterr,
Run will spring

staring out/an eternal breath

Drool,
Said him.

Between
What has,

Of who,

Like aches
They say

With bare
Where blue.

And for
For not,

And not, but
Who.

I hear the cracks in the floor whispering your name.

Empty eyes,
With above,

Behind.

From open arms,
Up close, beside.

To have not,
But what.

And why?

there's sorrow in here eyes

There's a sorrow in her eyes, a wrinkle in her breath. And an almost contempt arises from the air surrounding her. " Its cold in here". She says as she huddles across from me. Drinking hot water with a touch of lemon, she carefully presses the cup against her lips in preparation for the warming sensation that arises gently there after. " I guess". I mumble, pretending to look around for something, I don't know. The place is crowded, waitresses run back and forth stretching themselves out at every opportunity." Are you coming over afterwards". looking at me with confused eyes, and thinking about it for a second. She quickly responds." No, not today. I would much rather have a good nights sleep". I am never really sure what this means, as she has used this excuse times before. I give off a deep silent sigh, and relinquish the fact that this has been an ongoing problem as of late. Having left things unsaid, I know full well its part my fault. " You don't mind, do you?". " No, no, of course not. Why would I mind?". I can see our waiter off in the distance heading our way with arms full. I ordered the flat iron steak, she the garlic mashed potatoes with a mushroom chicken. Small talk ensues for the entirety of the rest of dinner. The waiter walks over takes the empty plates as I ask for the check. Outside the rain comes down, making the city covered in a glossy sheen. Afterwards, Sitting in front of her house, she gathers her things in preparation." You sure you don't mind right?". I smile slightly while just outside the sidewalks are left empty, and her house is left black except for one lonely light left on in the basement obstructed by bushes and limped out flowers. " There's always next week". Knowing full well what's written in stone. Making my way home, the streets are dull. I light up a cigarette even though I quit over two years ago. " Its okay". I think to myself. " Every once in awhile won't hurt". Inside the house I turn on the lights, take off my shoes and jacket, and find myself at the couch, watching a bit of TV. I go over the conversation at dinner a few more times in my head, still not knowing the meaning of the words she happily committed to. I do this for about fifteen minutes not paying attention to what may be going on on the television. Deciding to end it at that though, I go to the fridge to make a vodka cran. People are but a funny, confusing bunch. Like a bee caught in a torrent of rain, thinking only of getting to cover at once, only later realizing who or what they may have left behind.

i saw the sun briefly through the clouds

I saw the sun briefly through the clouds, trying to force its way through to its inherent destination. As I sit here underneath the trees watching the leaves sway while they eventually fall, and crumble. And the grasss moves in all directions as the wind gently strokes its hair. The trees all out stretch like the arms of an octopus, or a man with a thousand fingers. While the clouds all pass through making there way, to some town over the horizon, never quite stopping to pay a visit.

Another wayy of sayingg..

She said to me with a smile, and a crackle to her voice. " Where have you been lately". I looked at her with apparent disposition, " around, I have been around".
The place was empty, with pockets of noise coming from some unknown directions, and I can almost see her mouth mimic the words she's about to mutter." You haven't called me lately, I wonder why that is?". almost muttering to herself." I have been busy". And with that she looks at me like she's trying to deduce some mathematical equation, pausing between each sentence almost like she's catching her breath. The place is dark, with the corners of the bar almost unbearably so. The fans whir, and the bartender wipes down the bar trying to keep busy. " Its slow tonight, for a day like today". She looks around quite uninterested, as if she's scanning the pages of a text book. " I guess". Pausing in between with apparent uncertainty. " Your not answering the question, what is the reason for that". Talking like she has no inner dialogue, she tends to speak as if thinking to herself. And the sounds of her voice seem to crack under the pressure of thought. Her eyes are on the verge of death, and I know I should do what I came here for. " Nothing, its nothing, why don't we get out of here, grab a bite to eat". A smile wraps around here face, that seems to even surprise herself. Outside the rain is coming down, and I have found myself in this spot before. Never quite allowing to bring myself to it. I lend her my jacket, and we make our way down the street. The light falls down from the lamps above. And the buildings are silhouettes aspiring to reach to heaven.

Into the murky depths/pulling myself apart from different directions.

In the office the next day the fog has rolled in, surrounding my desk. With a dense forest cutting me off from the rest of the world, I can almost hear the birds chirping in the background distracting me from the job ahead. And everyone is busy being self-absorbed, only making little small talk when they pass by someone. Usually a quick hello or a ceremoniously head nod in which seems to mean I am too damn busy to open my mouth to create a sound of greeting. People are such funny creatures, they don't really tend to make much sense as a whole, even to themselves I suppose. Taking my break at the same time I normally do, I really don't feel like going downstairs to the usual spot, but I force myself anyway. In the coffee shop the tables are oddly empty, with only a few patrons peppering the land. I order my usual and take a seat in front just left of the door. I like to look out the window and watch the world go bye. And as I am off in my own little world I don't notice gail walk in and continue to sit beside me. I look over quite puzzled and quickly surmise that our relationship must have bounded back to its original state. She sits there, in silence for a time. I continue on with my coffee and such trying not to push. Eventually she looks up at me with a awkward smile, she begins telling how this is not how she intended this, and how she never really thought of me in that way, instead feeling pity for me, and stuff like that. Keeping it quick and to the point, gail ends it by saying she is dating someone else in the office now. She doesn't tell me his name before disappearing off into the street, but I guess it doesn't matter. I can suddenly feel the people closing in on me, waiting for what I may do next. Watching intently. I shove my head to the ground and race outside careful as to not see what others may be doing. Feeling my chest tighten its grip on me, I just need a breather. As I begin to calm a bit I start to wonder what exactly happened in there. I thought for sure luck was this time on my hands. As the wave of emotion begins to hit I take a deep breath and swallow, as I make my way upstairs back to my desk. Everyone is quiet now, as if I found myself suddenly in some silent movie. The office feels a little more lonely, don't know why, me and gail never really had a relationship in the first place. But hope is something I apparently have in spades. The day ends in quite uncomfort, my house is cold and the television sits not being watched. I end up falling asleep on the couch with the warm fuzz of the tv echoing out slowly waking me from my sleep.

Driving down the highway waiting to disappear.

The clouds up ahead act as mountains, towering above the sky in pillars of white. Coalescing, en twining and rising up out of the curvature of the earth. As the road up ahead slowly disappears into a singular point, and the sounds of cars move back and forth, in and out of existence. And my eyes try to push themselves back to sleep. while the grips of my hands gently slip from the steering wheel, I wake myself up with coffee, and cigerettess. As the rain continues to fall down onto the roof of the car, like the sound thousands all running at once, in the same direction. All the while we slowly disappear, into a singular point..

Roaming through the forest of old,( as god? intended)

And into the murky depthss. As the water rises slowly up over my knees. I notice many eye'ss peaking above the water, watching me, choking me, telling me to head back. This is not the way I want to go, they say. And the water seems to be pushing back upon me the farther I find myself now. The trees are getting thicker, and shadows do scurry across the proverbial landscape. There's dry land in site, just up ahead. Appearing as a almost mirage as it makes its way through the forest into the pupils of my eyes. But my heart does as well tell me to head back, that the road is dangerous, and lonely. Doesn't all men though eventually fight off fear, and envy, of other roads that might be traveled. And the water is getting deeper now, as it attempts to climb up above my chest. So I might as well push on, to see what lies ahead.

untitled an unsure..

In the Grips,

Of the daze,
Of days.

As it
Begs.
begins.

And starts off
in wavves,

Of Boredom.
And inconsistencies.

As my eyes
Do drift,

From
The very
Notion..

That each morning brings.
...

And for my heart is being once again freed, from this fleshy silence. And in grain toenails.//

The days seem shorter now, and the pains of reasonable doubt have shuffled off into the murky depths of distant memories, only every once in awhile coming up for air. And I can't remember the last time I felt like this, its oddly unnerving though. But I think I can get used to it nonetheless. And I am already here at work sitting at my desk, with a busy morning behind me of meticously grooming myself trying to look my best. Me and gail have been doing this at work now for about a week. I have been driving myself crazy all morning figuring out if I should ask her out on a real date or not. And as the first break of the day rolls in a strange occurrence happens as we are downstairs across the street having our coffees. She talks. And at length, at least compared to earlier versions of our conversations anyhow. Speaking of life, family and nondescript memories of gone past, she takes long breaks in between without actually saying that much in the first place. She's very poignant and to the point, careful about whatever she says and also stopping herself from saying to much. Fragments here and there as if she hasn't gotten used to the protocols of everyday conversations. Finally I stumble across the actions of asking her out, and she stops almost mid thought giving this look as if she is trying to solve some difficult math problem. She comes back repeating my words while asking if I mean a real date.
I answer with a yes, and she looks at me with some confused eyes, peeking at her watch while agitatingly bringing out that we must go back to work. I got to say I am a bit disappointed at this but its nothing that's all that new. So I give off a deep sigh and follow her upstairs back to work. The rest of the day is slow paced and depressing, everyone here seems to walk in slow motion as I myself is somehow outside of that bubble. I can feel more of a cast out now, watching the villagers, pray, dance, and love as they hop around the proverbial fire. I get more work done now though then normally, as I try to avert my eyes from scanning certain surrounding areas. As lunch comes around I don't have the energy to drag my knuckles outside, so I stay in at my desk while grabbing a few things in from the vending machine in the lunch room. I see that gail is not at her desk, more likely meaning she went to lunch downstairs I am guessing at least. And its quiet in a room full of no people. I should have known this was coming, pushing to hard against surfaces that aren't really there to begin with. The day finally ends dragging its heels against the cold floor. I start picking, and putting away my things as gail in the background does the same. But as I am ready to go I pretend to be busy just so I don't have to pass her by. She is only over ten feet away and I miss her already. As cracks in the floors open up bringing about caverns with broken and fallen bridges peppering the land. And I guess its time to make my way home. I don't think she lives that far from here, as every now and again I can see her walk home in the opposite direction of me. In life and reality the same birds do always sing, and all the buildings appear as ghostly apparitions watching my every movement as if in preparation to pounce. And the people who still walk the streets are but shadows of once past. And at home I can't seem to sit still, pacing back and forth wearing out the carpet behind the couch in the living room as david letterman yells through the tv. I try to sit down but the events of the day keep running around my head,bouncing off my cavern walls giving me a headache. And I can't help but not fall asleep. Trying to calm my nerves I go to the kitchen to make myself a midnight snack, a peanut butter jam sandwich and some grape juice. I sit on the couch staring at the tv trying to forget the actions of the day. Letterman is his usual self, pointlessly funny. His guest today is woody harrelson from some upcoming movie I had no idea about. And finally after about a hour or so at home I feel my eyes start to drift off in the numbness of the unconscious mind. And so it is as I find myself fallen asleep on the couch with the tv on, as I have done once or twice before.

There's nothing else left for me, so I might as well just stand here/the city she's beautiful when u might as well not even be here

The rest of the day is a slow mess of nerves and dancing fingers. I try to not let myself look over in desperation. Being forever glued to my desk in a sort of self served tunnel vision. She must think I am crazy, always trying to talk myself into not making a complete fool after that in some misinterpreted attempt at happiness. At the end of the day I pack the few things from home and walk downstairs out the door. The city now is dark with a thousand glowing eyes hovering over the streets as if the stars are slowly descending. All the shops are closed or closing, and people still clumsily wander the street looking for the next attempt to lose there ability for good judgment. Reaching my house all is black, so I open the door and immediately turn on the lights in the living room. I put my things back into there little compartments and take my self away on the couch watching TV. I do the same thing pretty much each night, letterman and the daily show. The lights of the TV encompass the room and act as almost strobe lights I would imagine for anyone watching from the outside through the windows. The silence penetrates the room every time I mute the television, and the darkness moves around the room getting ready to pounce when the lights go out. The next morning I get up with the light coming through the window in between the blinds. I get up and make coffee than watch random crap on tv. Everyday is pretty much the same for me. From morning to afternoon and night. A creature of habit you might say. But when you have no friends to speak of there's really no other choice. I get a early start to work this morning and the streets are crowded, after a quick stop for coffee I make my way trying to push myself through the crowds to get myself to work. People walking in the streets blocking traffic as horns are blaring from every direction confusing the ears. I don't own a car and this is precisely why. Walking into the building I see the two twins through the mess of people trying to talk to multiple men and woman all at once. The wait for the elevator is now unreasonable so I head off up and out of the stairs. As I pass gail heading to my desk I give a quick smile and a good morning. She looks up an bares her teeth in a grin and says the same. She has never said that to me before, I wonder if I made a impression the other day, and with that my mind starts to unravel with loosely based possibilities. In the back though, I know I should let things be and move on, how many times have I been in a situation like this and it always turns out wrong. I am not the one to learn from past mistakes apparently. But this lonely life of the ridiculed man needs to come to an end. I am tired of being tired. Every night staring at the box living life through the many images of hugh, sandra bullock and many more like them. For the next hour or so the sweat on my brow pools and coalesces, periodically storming through the castle walls watering down my eyes. Making me every now and than wipe them down with my sleeve. As I am about to get ready to go out for a coffee an unexpected thing happens, and I find gail standing before me smiling a very slight smile. She looks down as she plays with her fingers nervously not really making eye contact. Seeing the bewildered agitations of sweat she hands me a handkerchief and continues to ask if I just might be going down for coffee. As she speaks the words they appear almost broken and unsure as if she can hardly believe them herself. I look up at her and after a short pause finally let out a distant and confused yes. She asks if I will join her and I agree, the walk downstairs is somewhat quiet and perplexing at the same time. I ask about her day, she gives me a quick yet assertive good so far. And I complement her on her looks today and she gets a little red in the cheeks and thanks me. As much as I hate to admit it though, this whole think reeks of ulterior motives, or I may just be paranoid. I can't help but be so confused right now. We get our coffees and take a seat by the window, she gets a muffin while I a scone. And its almost comforting sitting here in silence. I continue in little tidbits of small talk in which I am just a tad more successful than yesterday. She answers everynow and than with the typical nod or bairly visible yes or okay. After awhile though I just kind of give into the silence and enjoy her company . It goes like this day in an out for a few, I will talk a little each day telling her about myself eventually just doing the same and being silent for the most part never quite knowing where she's coming from or why she asks for my company each day. But those moments we have that I begin to look forward to do start clouding over my mind from the rest of my duties each day. I try to be at my best though,opening doors, pulling out chairs and trying to be complimentary without going overboard. And life starts to do a surprising thing, as everything around me begins to gradually fade and move away bringing about a little bit of happiness into this world torn soul.

Happiness is an ill attempt at self satisfaction-I die a little inside each day...(part 4)

Half way through the day I am out to lunch, but I find it more comforting to stay in and marvel at the emptiness inside. I look across my desk and a thought passes my mind that maybe I should clean myself up, in a weird attempt that maybe it will do some good. As I begin to organize my papers and such I see out of the corner of my eye that gail still sits at her desk just like me eating her lunch. Her eyes graze across mine and it reveals a slight smile that makes me wonder what quite is going on. Was she smiling at me or the notion that I am busy scrubbing my desk clean. As I do find myself doing ridiculous things each day seeing that I found myself in the bathroom combing my hair in front of the mirror just now. I go about this almost everyday in a ill attempt at nothing else but stupidity. Back at my desk I finish up cleaning, organizing and making everything pine fresh. I sit down quietly as only a few stragglers are still making there way around the office, usually the ones who started early or eat here somewhat like me. So sitting here quietly, finishing up my lunch, while trying to look my best periodically looking over to see if she might notice. And the worlds a messed up place I might say so myself. How awkward it is or making it do be to do something as simple as walk over and ask her out to a drink of some sorts. And there might as well be two walls a country and the deepest ocean between us, and with that thought the rest of civilization. Like a mother that gives her child up for adoption, unwanted and unrecognized. Society it seems has a blind eye. But It could be worse, at least I am not on the street. I am not at all a personable person, never knew how to approach others and make friends. The length of my hair makes people think I might be dirty or some tree hugging hippie. I don't know, either or I have succumbed to my fate a few years ago, but with a inkling of hope rising up out of me every now and then. Deep down though all I really want/need is someone by my side to wake up to each morning. It gets lonely at night when your heart is only but one half of a full heart. But enough already of that. For the rest of the day up until my last break I am nervous/paranoid to get up and do anything. This time I get up and head on downstairs to the streets of man across the road to this little coffee shop. I usually don't drink coffee this late in the day but I feel tired, bored, and my legs are sore from sitting so long. Inside I stand in line not really paying to much attention to my surroundings. I order a regular coffee and a pastry and make an attempt to find a seat. But in my surprise it all seems to be taken, except this little two seat table in the back left by the window. The window faces the back alley with this giant weird mural of a blackened cityscape with the red of the sky burrowing over it. A faint figure in white towers over with arms outstretched almost hugging the city in what appears to be some kind of condolence. A prediction of what may come perhaps, or just a overzealous religious man who takes the bible a little to literal. And at that I can feel a presence watching over me as I just than hear this voice call out, "excuse me." I look up as my jaw almost bumps itself upon the table, its gail the girl from the office. She asks me if she can sit down as all the tables are now taken. I tell her it would be my pleasure as my hands can't stop from shaking. I manage to painstakingly get out a how are you doing today, that must have felt awkward and a little creepy as it surpassed the table and met her ears. She looked at me and gave a quiet yet quick okay. I guess maybe she doesn't just like talking, or maybe its me. A five minute pause passes by and I can hear all the words that make up the conversations from the people that surround me. They all move around the room and finally coalese and join each other to make phrases and such that don't make really any sense. Finally I give out a slow sigh and tell her that if she doesn't want to talk it doesn't bother me. She smiles softly and says that that isn't the case," i have never been the one for words". I know what you mean, I have always had trouble meeting people so I have just learned over the years to keep my mouth shut. I tell her this as I try as I might to not to stare. For the rest of the time we just sit there quietly enjoying our coffee and whatnot. And Its oddly comforting, as if we have known each other for years and are quite alright with some periods of silence. And my time here is almost done, as the shop slowly empties into the streets and we all wander our way back to work.

I want to live forever/ let's all die young/ or how I recently found myself disappearing.. (part 3)

nside, the muffled voices of the masses mix togethor to make a deafening noise of inconsistencies. But there's still a clear path to the front desk, surrounded by pillars, with chairs, tables and people alike just beyond that. And the two girls who sit there look oddly alike, short black haired ladies who might have just been ripped off by the two fairies of mothra, I don't remember seeing them before though, I don't see how I could have missed something like that as I have been here day in day out, but I shake it off as not paying attention and begin to move on my way. Everyday I take this elevator I believe that all the people are of the same likeness, long lost twins, brothers, or the exact same person from different timelines or dimensions. The walls here smell of sweat and wd40. Outside in the office on the 12th floor the lights are staring down unflinching watching all who pass. And I can't see myself in the windows as I make my way down the hall to my desk. I guess that's got to be some sort of sign. My desk now is way of to the back in the left hand corner, the proverbial desert of the twelfth floor. And it sits in ruin as the mess can almost make its way to the ground below. But I get the work done nontheless. Probably why they don't say anything, as they have never heard but a peep about a raise from me or otherwise. I am quite content at doing what's given and going home. The people are absent from about a block radius around my work station. And I can't help but feel like I want to be part of the team. I have tried some many times that have all but ended with failure. Office parties, birthdays, or just generally getting togethor for drinks afterwards. Like a virus people tend to cover there mouths when I happen to be around. I made peace with it quite sometime ago, or at least made them believe so. They have a way of looking right through me as if I am not there. Or a look of complete disgust as if they have just been approached by somekind of mutated animal. I am not quite sure how it all started, I just have a way with people. Its not like I am dirty or anything. I keep very good care of myself. I have to admit at giving up to some degree at some fairly recent point in time. But I still happen upon a shower each day, even if my work space says otherwise. But there's a woman here in the office who reminds me of me, and this story it has taken a quite interesting turn. And she does in the, I might add, sense she doesn't talk to too many people as well. I have tried to approach her at certain intervals throughout the days. Never know really what to say. Always finding my mouth crawling amongst the floor looking for verbal scraps of food. She is not the type of girl most guys go for, but for I am not most guys. Today she is wearing what appears to be a polyester skirt or dress that barely shows the top parts of the calves. On top of that lays a white button up that doesn't seem to fit that well covered by a dark green cardigan that is bound and determined to drown her beneath its bottomless waves of fabric. Even her body language proves shy. As everything she reaches for or perhaps does she stops herself half way in to think about the precautions and maybe consequences. And in all I think she's beautiful. As she glows in distant parts of the corner of my eyes. After some nervous quite laughter and multiple attempts at getting my hands to stop shaking. I get up to pretend to go past her desk way to the left opposite of the windows and the rooms full of supplies in which I will go into for no reason what's so ever. I try to keep my head up high and not watch the floor as I approach and find an odd smile run across my face as I say hello and make my way into small talk. I manage to ask about her day, but she just looks up as if forcing herself to do so and gives a subtle good and fine as she goes right back to her work and ignoring me just the same. And I stand there like a complete idiot, mumble some incoherent nervous nonsense and make my way out. As I turn on the computer it quietly whiirrs itself awake from its long slumber, and immediately shoves its light right into me choking my eyes shut but just for a second. I would peroidically find myself getting bored and strained from sitting here as well all day. So I started to take little micro walks to get my blood flowing once more and stretching the muscles that cramp and twist themselves like some lovelorn womanizing snake. That apparently gets a lot of tail. And the end of the day is still far outstretched. The hours pass at a slow moving crawl, and the people walk around in distant mumbles of a rumbling heart. After about a hour or two I lock up the computer screen and decide to make my way down to grab a quick snack. I find the girl, gail I believe her name is, not at her desk. She must have had the same thought I just had. As a smile makes its way upon me in the thought we might find each other once more. Across the street there is a vendor selling some hotdogs and such, you can get all sorts and variations. I have always been the one to get just mustard on mine. Boring people liking boring things, I imagine.

the easy way out of a nonexisting endingg

in the lonely life
Of trees..

And incandesant light bulbs.

And the spaces
Between death,
And life.

And somehow madness.

of how what beginsss.
An empty house.

a harmless grin..
The sounds of silence,,.

Of in what just did.

And i screamd..

And i
screamd

with death.

but only did
how,

could you,
Smear from love.

as never will he,

show storm,
an may

as men
   must go

through life
w/ void.

There 's death in his eyes...

There's death in
His eyes.

(Or a misstep in the heart)

And the hair does covers his face,
Strangling the neck.

I can hear his heart
Reverberating,
Shaking,
Cracking,
Stumbling over the ground
Below.

And the sweat above
My browww Washes
over my face.

As the nerves rummage
Through the body
Making my
Hair stand up and
Take notice.

And the clouds upstairs
Are getting angry.

As they as well
Come down once again
upon me.

My feet are firmly planted to the ground below...

For love of
Want/need

And so, did so blindly.
With eyes closed,
(Feet like trees)

But what is,
After not.

A run towards death.
As such, a lifelike scene.

But who knows,
What madness will bring.

A life come madly,
Or a death in spring.

#2. Part two/ or how I cannot somehow complete whole sentences.

After watching for prolonged amounts of time, I can feel the zombification coming on in. As my body slowly succumbs and becomes one with the couch as it outstretches its arms and starts to assimilate myself like some borg offshoot of evolution. And at this point, I believe it good to get up and get ready for work, before my mind breaks up and breaks apart. In the kitchen the walls are painted a dull blue, they haven't been painted over in awhile and give off a kind of retro feel to it all. The cupboards are of those ugly browns that your grandma had since the dawn of civilization.I can still hear the tv in the background as I rummage through the cupboards looking for whatever I can find. I usually make the same thing pretty much everyday. A sandwich that consists of peanut butter and jam and the usual line up of something I can just chew on like almonds or carrots or the like. After the kitchen lay in a crumbled mess of the unwanted pieces of bread that for unknown reasons decided to bail mid sandwich. I get dressed and do what I need to in the bathroom. Opening the door to the outside world is much like the supposed experience of dying. There's a bright white blinding light and than gently in the distance some figures start to appear, but in this case you don't get all the mess of being dead. A hamper on the rest of the day I would believe. Just to the right of my house across the street the buildings begin to rise up, the corner of the city called chinatown that's so full of locals and tourists alike, but a great place to eat nonetheless. The streets here are always crowded with the wide eyed and confused as they cram push and at times force there way into the shops to buy crap they will eventually discard into the lower rungs of the outside world. and It has a type of apocalyptic poetry to it all, as the buildings here are leaning on the side of should be torn down. All the alleyways as I pass by have a very human scent to it, in the worst possible way. And the walls are all covered in graffiti and cracks that seem to emanate from the very core of the earth.the coffee shops here are all asian owned and operated and mostly do bubble tea. The best I can find is a esquire that is oddly crammed in between to other buildings that appear comparitively broken . This is the usual place I hit whenever I might find myself out and about. But two streets over and to the right towards the house is a ittle fast food shop that arguably sells the best chinese food in the city, so on most days you might normally be able to find me.but back Inside the coffee shop I order just a coffee two sugars and be on my way, outside the doors I attempt to light a cigerette but the slight wind factor doesn't permit me for about two or three tries. And the people are pushy, as I try to get out of there way. I usually stop here almost every morning, not sure why, complete boredom I imagine. Seeing I have enough coffee at home to do me the day. Its getting to be that time when the tourists really  come out in hoards and have there confusion laced frenzy of which way to go. In the distance I can begin to see the outer linings of the office building. One half of it has the windows peeking around the corner like some crazy old man stocking some unknowing prey. And the city is a lonely place when your all alone, for I have been doing this for entirely too long. But this happens every morning, the closer I get the more seemingly tired I become. The problem I believe stems from the fact I know how my whole day is going to draw out. And it will be like that tomorrow the next day and until untold weeks on end. The office windows now tower over me, watching me with those disdain and judgmental eyes. And the hairs upon the back of my neck stand up. And it almost overpowers me, drawing me in like some star wars tractor beam. So I can't help but giving up, and giving in

The lonely life of trees./thinking to myself in a disorderly fashion.

Outside the window the tree has overtaken the yard, partially blocking out the sun. The fence is broken and tattered in places with the white paint being chipped off and weathered. And the world keeps on going by no matter what I may do with myself. Almost as reassuring as a thought can be, an just as isolating. My hands are clasped around the lip of the window sill, and my hair falls in my face every now and than as I brush it back against my earlobe. But I can start to smell the scent of coffee running through the air and contaminating the walls and the counters,as they are a mess, but I haven't been in the mood to clean in days. I have one of those single serve coffee makers like the ones you see in offices or something, a little smaller but all the same none the less. And I don't usually work in the mornings. Which I like actually. Just to be able to sit around all morning and relax is pretty nice. I am used to being by myself, as I have been doing that for a few years now. I have been in a relationship or two though, but haven't for reasons unknown worked out. It always ends almost the same, they breaking up with me or stop calling all togethor. I suppose its destiny, as some might call it. And so with that in mind, and coffee cup in hand, I go take a seat on the couch. Its one of those old thirties ones with the wooden arm rests and the ugly green fabric. The coffee table actually fits in quite nicely,as its perfect as one of those fifties kitchen tables, I just shortened the legs. I got it from this garage sale a few years back, I had no use for it but you don't see them very often anymore. I love going to garage sales. Digging through peoples crap they don't want or care for no more. Sad in a way. These were once all great and sought after stuff.On the most part. Now all have fallen and found there way at the bottom. But that's ok, we all find our way there eventually, some earlier than others. Now flipping through the channels on the television proves all but boring. As i only still get the basic channels, And too many channels usually brings confusion along with it. And this is my normal everyday madness of getting up before work. My idiosyncratic routine of day in and day out. I work just a couple blocks up in a office building, a editor for some midlevel paper. How I got the job I will never know. I have my own little office there all cut off from the rest of the people. Why should work be any different than the home. But I am getting off topic, and off focus, as the television is still yelling its name at me to find a channel I might rather prefer. So after surfing around a bit and finally finding one I put the controller down and begin to feel myself start to relax. Some educational show on volcanoes, specifically the one in yellowstone. Odd how things work out. As I am sitting here in the false pretense of security all the while mother nature plots and plans against us, meaning to or not. How fragile a society we are, sitting like kings, as the cavalry slowly rolls in.

untitled and uncomplete (lack of#8)

Inside the cafeteria the dust has settled. And abruptly taken over, seemingly. The tables are empty, and the chairs are dead. And as it seems they seem to be shot down, tipped over, or generally scattered about. And the place is creepy, even more so than the rest of the place. The walls creak as the fans moan and yearn and call out your name. With every step I take the dust does rise, fall and make its way to the bottom of my feet. Going towards the kitchen the counters are empty, the tills are silent. And the little windows to view today's menu is all but lacking anything that might be considered food. I jump over and go to the back in the kitchen. In here everything is a mess. Pots, pans and everything in general have somehow found there way to the floor or piled themselves in neat little mountains in the sinks spilling over like a man made volcano. Some of the many cupboards are open as I drag my finger across the metal surface of one of the counters. And the dirt has piled itself on and over and back onto itself. I dig through a few shelves here and there pushing my way through numerous diseased and filth encrusted silverware bowls and every now and than what appears to be what used to be some kind of edible unknowns. I would think at some point I would notice some kind of rust of decomposition in the metal or even wood at one time or another, but it only appears to be the food that has done that. Maybe I haven't been here for too long after all. In the back I can see what appears to be a freezer door or something. Burrowing my way through the mess I make my way there to open the door. Inside all the ice has over run and taken over,ice crystals hang from the ceiling like knifes. And I feel like I am in some indy movie, as if its going start to come down on me any second now. And I am bored, tired, and not wanting to do this anymore. I knock down some of the ice and begin to go through the shelves finding everything gone beyond recognition. After about twenty minutes or so. And Its surprisingly roomy in here as I make my way around pushing all the stuff from side to side slowly getting a little more frantic as the time passes. But it all seems to be falling apart. After about half an hour or so I give up and head back out. Everything here seems to be gone with time past. And I guess its time to be on. As I find myself on my way, all the tables are still in there disorderly fashion. And footprints are abound. I stop suddenly and bring my shovel up to my shoulders in unwanted anticipation. And from the door I see them arise. One after the other in a most chaotic matter pushing shoving and generally making the way toward me. I look down with a sigh and take a deep breath and think, you know what, fuck it! And at that I run towards them, knocking the first one in the gut and doing a one eighty hitting another behind then back to the first with a mighty blow downwards to the head. And there's no time to think as they continue to surround and make there way in. So I jump on one of the tables swinging at anything that attempts to come at me. And I am looking out over the world on the verge of death. As I continue to kick, punch, and do whatever it takes to keep them off as I see only one way out. And there all packed in now, making a more so than not circle around me. So with a deep breathe and a uneasy sigh, I go for it. Stepping on heads shoulders whatever I can as I cautiously ( and as probably of no help) clutch onto the ceiling above. And miraculously like some crazy scene in a movie I make my way to the door. Swinging at anything that might try to make its presence known. Through the door, without even thinking, I run my way to the front of the hospital, make a sudden pause as if I am making some leap over some cliff to the waters below. And open the door. Outside to the right there's a yellowish white wall parallel to me running about 50 or so feet . On the left a small garden fixed with trees and small colorful flowers of some kind. As I stand there looking around wondering what to do next. I notice that there is no discernible smell to conceive of. The clouds in the sky look relatively similar to each other. And something just somehow doesn't feel right. I look back upon the doors that followed and all the things,creatures, or whatever are all banging on the door. Like they all want to come out but just can't figure out how. I start to make my way to the end, trying to focus on what may eventually be out there. The shovel in my right hand hangs lazily against my feet , and I hang onto it more tightly than ever now. At the end I find myself standing in front of the hospital parking lot. And its all but empty, a complete lack of cars or any human presence whatsoever. And it feels lonely standing in the dark with no apparent world to conceive of. Out in the distance I can see the buildings jettison out of the ground like old retired monoliths from countless ages ago. The grass has now but overgrown, finding its way through the cracks in the pavement. And the lights situated throughout have all but died out seemingly years before. through the parking lot land across the street lay a couple of buildings that are more than likely deserted. Made up of bricks they bare the strain of unrepair. I motion to open the door of one of the shops here and notice a lock hanging there on chains covered in dust an dirt. I shake the door around a bit not quite sure what to expect, but nothing happens. The windows are shaded over with overgrown dust. And there appears to be a complete lack of color, instead going for a few shades of grey. Oddly enough though the only color I have seen is the flowers in the garden by the hospital. As I walk up and around the corner I now see the nature of things taking hold and wrapping themselves around the buildings. But i guess everything looks colorless under the light of the moon. Down the street a little more the city rises up higher and higher. I check a couple more doors on the way down and there all locked. Looking inside all the windows everything is still in perfect order. As if the people have all but vanished. But if that is so than why all the locked doors. A ways down a bit I finally find a open door, a little corner market that's named appropriately. Up around the corner or some odd name like that. Inside the fruit is past on. The floors are all cracked, and you can still see glimmers of the true color every now and than. The normal checkered black and white. The walls are a washed out green, with the dairy coolers surrounding the room. In the back to the left I notice the bottles of water in one of the coolers. I grab a bunch and stuff my clothes with as many as I can. Off in the distance, not too far away, I can still see the silouette of the hospital. Slowly disappearing to the point of being unrecognizable.

Barebones

bare

and
yet

none
like sea.

but man do
take, need

and
about after...

knife like dream

In the mountainous regions of the heart/the city lay dying..

The motions of the streets are making me sick. And the unkind and disastrous. And the people are mindless, or of no mind at all. But I can't help but see the whitewalls of the back alleys of society. The glowing gestures of but a few are forever ingrained on the complex neurons of the electrical patterns of the brain. And I tend to wander, if not incomprehensibly. The streets start to pile up with the people of the dead. as the cars do choke on themselves. And the buildings have all but raised there hands in some accordance to the closer I get to god. The perhaps better I may be.but Its getting hard for me to walk these streets anymore. As the city she gets smaller. With all the people at my feet. And the cold walls of concrete feel lonely. As I pass through this world as a ghost, a spirit, a figment of ones imagination. Walking through the disobedient walls of the structures of man, and woman alike. So another day has past, where god has not spoken, or has fallen just on deaf ears. Or maybe I have been not listening. And the end of the day seems so far away, a mass of confusion. With fits of clarity, and haze. But the world is what we make of it, or so it seems. The little patches of grass that accompany the street seem out of place now. The trees are distant, and the silence of the air is mystifying. And its time to go back home, to fall back out of this world. But the sun in the sky is beautiful, at the end of the day.

the insights are often difficult yet insightful...

from man,
and want.

like running
drunk through
forest

above those
who gone

though can,
must go

with a delicate
death

and life

but love

and did so madly

and the birds begin to sprout from the cracks in the walls

weak,
with lust

and always for
what

she said,
when lie

from only to next

stop reconciling and give up already....))

be still,

and sleep,
and after but

have, fall

but beneath
and over.

for he may love
ache, moan,
and leave like whisper.

In the presence of such glorious minds. ( lack of #7)

In the presence of such glorious minds, how have we come, to a time as this. A desolate perversion, if there ever was one. With our once so masterful unwillingness to forgive, forget( and try as we might to not act as god)and all the air is covered in a greyish silence, the hospital seems lonely, and out of place. Downstairs I can hear the distant mumblings of death, and uncertainty. The walls crumble with the voices of the what was once past. The ground here is covered in dust, and no footprints are to be found. I am just about on the otherside of the cafeteria now. Making my way ahead to the front doors all the lights are somewhat on, trying as they might to make there way back to existence. And all the doors are closed, except the two(unusually) up ahead. As I try to get my way nervously past the first open door, something unexpectantly jumps out at me and knocks me to the floor. And I can't tell how many there may be as I punch, and kick, and elbow my way back to my feet. I find two of them, one wearing a tattered grey overcoat with the other brandishing a type of fast food/cafeteria garb. And I am a little bloody, a little bleeding, as it trickles down my face and rests on my cheekbones. So with my cane firmly in hand (and without thinking) I race towards them, tackle one against the wall as the cane merges with the torso of the other. He falls to the floor as in the corner of my eyes I elbow the other as I see him( or it)coming towards me. And with some strange natural reaction I turn around toward him and grab his head as he falls and slam it into the wall behind. So exsaperated, and as always, confused. I figure its no point in dwelling on the problem of how I might have pulled that off. Laying down my head in a sigh of relief, I move on. I am finally passing the cafeteria. And as my stomach grumbles I realize I have not had food yet in quite awhile. But I figure before hand, maybe I should see if I can update my weaponry, as high class as it might be. And with all the unorganised chaos of death, I completely forgot about the bleeding that just so happened to be just now trickling down the side of my face. I think behind me a few doors there was a closet type room for all the stuff they might need( a storage room perhaps). Finding the room unopened, unlocked, and almost as if it has been gone through before. Inside the plethora of junk is neverending, and everywhere. Is there maybe someone here with me, that I haven't seen. Another plane of existence. Or is my imagination getting the better of me. I might not even be here at all. But still sleeping on that bed upstairs.just fighting, wrestling, stuggling with myself. Inside I find a few shovels, some flashlights along with other nonsensical crap. I grab them both and maybe wouldn't mind sharpening the end of the shovel, the way I seen in some movie or tv show I can't remember the name of. But it will be fine for now. And so at that, I make my way off back to the cafeteria. In hopes of once more finding food.