"Nights Divided, Happiness is Somewhere"

This is another one of those narrative prose style stories I keep meaning to write. I sit here, late in the evening on a Friday, laptop in front of me and I wonder....

On the first morning I was awoken from this terrible nightmare of a dream. Nothing in the world seemed close to me. Nothing seemed to matter.

Have I really wasted all of these years? Filling my life with needless wants, needless desires and fake people who care for nothing but themselves? Have I really turned into one of those people? Can I really be sure I am who I say I am?

What if the person I think I should be is just a dream, a dream I had when I was ten years old? How can you be sure that you exist when nothing you touch seems real? Everything that should have texture feels hollow on the inside.

Looking up at the sky, through the glass ceiling in the place I called "home", I begin to imagine if those red clouds really are supposed to be red. Can the world be different than how I'm seeing it now?

My eyes begin to dart around the room, trying to find something I can focus on, something that I can count on the be 'real'. Anything? Does anything seem to exist?

I begin to panic. A sudden realization has come over me, can it really be true? How could I have been living a lie all of these years?

Looking for something to grab onto, something to gain some balance in my life. Running through the hallways, peering into empty room after empty room.

A bead of sweat begins to roll down my forehead, my arms are too heavy to wipe it away. After a minute it begins to follow the contour of my eyebrow and makes contact with my eye.

Instinctively, I try to blink the salt away.

The world seemingly ceased to exist around me, everyone had chosen to move on.

Left alone and standing in the middle of a giant room. The echos of footsteps from a million years ago resound around me.

The walls start to cave in around me, pictures are falling off the wall. LIghts begin to smash on the hard concrete floor in front of my shoeless feet.

The red painted ceiling begins to crack at the edges, sunlight begins to fill the room.

Holding my hand up in front of my face to shield myself. I begin to feel a faint breeze move across the back of my hand.

My eyes begin to adjust to the new world around me, I begin to see shapes and colours I had not seen before. Was the grass always this green? Did the fish really swim in the water?

Directly before me is a road that goes in two directions.

To the left the road is no longer paved, it is twisted and bumpy. But the sun shines off in the distance.

To the right the road is perfectly paved and straight as a pin. Off in the distance a dark cloud hangs over head threating to impede my progress.

Which direction is the one to choose? The easy one on the right? Or the difficult one on the left? Where will my happiness finally take me?

Looking down each road I begin to get confused, which one will lead me to a better life? Which one will make sure that my children will be safe and provided for?

Spinning in a small circle, I begin to run.

Somewhere on the road ahead, a faint bump appears before me. As the days went ahead, the bump never did seem to get closer, the more I ran towards what I thought was my salvation, the further it seemed to move away from me.

That small, insignificant speck in the distance to which I had been running towards all of these years.

The very one that I had almost given up all hope in reaching and turning back to a life of despair.

That bump... that bump was you.

I have this habit of starting a story with the clear intention of making it about something, in this case a life of ruin and desperation. Somewhere along the way the story just grows and evolves, gathers a life of its own and runs away from me. This story is as factual as you'd like to take it, its also been embellish and expanded for the sake of the story. I will not disclose what is true and what isn't, that is for your assumptions.

"Resurrection"

After some careful consideration, I've decided to give this whole "creative outlet" a go again. I'm not entirely sure what brought this about, but I shall take this and run with it. Lets just see what kind of stream-of-consciousness I can come up with at 1am on a Wednesday.

I have been reading and watching alot of stories about Zombies in the past several months. I figured it was time for my own little take on the entire genre, maybe with a twist?

Resurrection

Its the twelfth of August, and I feel as though I have been awake for months. I have not rested since the accident.

I can no longer remember the last time that I had a meal, especially one that satisfied my appetite. Did I even eat today?

When was the last time that I saw another person? Where was I going when the world ceased to exist around me for those few moments?

The only thing I remember was waking up on the pavement with the world scattered and covered in a sea of pain and misery. Glass and metal surrounded my outstretched body. Was I driving a car?

No one else was there. No one saw what happened. No one can help me.

The longer I walk the more alone I feel. I have been following a path set out before me. A thin grey line is draped across the world and I am destined to follow it.

Day after day I wander, trying to find the end to the line that God has provided for me.

Every day I try to imagine what is at the end of the path. Is it a warm meal? A hug from the woman I love?

Death would be a warm welcome from what I have endured. The countless animals I have attempted to use to survive on my journey.

Ahead of me the woods are changing and appear to be thinning out. The path has taken me to the beginning of a road, a paved road. Have I found salvation? Have I found the end to my journey?

As I cross through the brush, I can feel a change in the air. My sense of urgency has been replaced by caution and excitement.

I find myself concentrating on the sounds around me. I hear nothing.

The wind does not rustle the leaves in the trees, I can no longer feel the warmth of the air as it moves across my skin.

Looking around I begin to notice that the road does not feel as welcoming as I had hoped. There are no painted lines on this road, the houses do not appear to be in the best of shape anymore as if their best years were well behind them.

Across from me a family is out playing in their yard. Little Johnny notices me standing on the side of the road and points towards me. A ball rolls across the lawn in front of him, Johnny has forgotten all about the game of catch he was playing. A child does not easily forget about a game.

I try to force a smile across my dry, tired lips.

The mother looks up to see what little Jimmy is mesmerized about. Her eyes lock onto mine, I can see the look of shocked horror run across her face.

I see the pupils of her eyes dilating. I see the colour rushing towards her cheeks. I can see the muscles in her throat tighten as she is ready to say something.

She opens her mouth.

In the split second before she lets the world know of my presence, I begin to realize that something is not right. I should have not come through the woods. I was not meant to find this place.

Did I wander into a secret government location that no one was ever supposed to find?

My attention focuses back on the mother who shrieks in horror.

As the world around her freezes in reaction to what she has just done, I begin to take notice of what she might be afraid of.

The rest of the family begins to turn their head towards me. Under normal circumstances I would begin to feel shame for causing such a commotion, but today is different. I want them to notice me, I want them to be scared of me. The thrill excites me.

I look down to inspect my appearance before introducing myself to the family. The first thing I noticed was that the left side of my pants was torn from the knee down. And my leg was covered in dry blood.

A rock appears to be embedded in my leg, likely from the accident. Reaching down toward the rock I notice that the shape of it appears to be more uniform than what would be the normal shape of a rock. I run my finger over top of the rock and flick it towards to ground to remove it.

The rock stays firmly planted in my leg without any indication that it will be easily removed. I grasp the rock firmly between my fingers and pull. After I've pulled the rock out more I suddenly realize that it is not what I thought.

I let go and wonder to myself how it was possible for me to walk as long as I did with my shin sticking out through the front of my leg without feeling any pain.

The mother screams again, bringing me back to reality and the situation that I am currently in.

By the time the scream has finished for a second time, the hunger returns.

My nose picks up a delicious aroma coming from their lawn. Coming from their house.

Its been so long since I've eaten that I have no choice but to see if they will offer me food.

I begin to walk across the street. As I get closer, the smell is more attractive, making me crave it even more.

The family is still standing on their lawn as I reach the other side of the road, they are unable to move. Frozen in place by the sheer shock of seeing me approach in my current state.

As I the journey across their lawn, my entire thought process is destroyed by the need to eat.

Little Johnny is still standing behind is ball as I walk by and push him out of my way towards the delicious aroma. I approach the mother, who still has the scream frozen on her face.

I put my hands out in front of me, to which I will notice later are missing fingers and are horribly discoloured.

Wrapping my fingers around her shoulders was enough of a signal to awaken her from her daze and begin struggling. But by then it is too late.

My face is already buried in her neck feeling the warmth of her body against me as I taste her flesh for the first time.



Now that I've written that it seems to be darker than I had originally intended. Then again, its hard to write a happy Zombie story. When was the last time that a story was told from the point of view of a Zombie?

"Shimmer"

The following is based on a cabin that I see on the highway while driving too and from my favourite weekend vacation destination. It is not based on any type of real event and can not really be considered to be anywhere close to the truth. Also, its a rough draft completed in one sitting, I can not guarantee that the grammar will be 100% accurate and correct, I apologize for this.


You can see it from the highway most times.

If you're quick enough you can see a shimmer out of the corner of your eye, but if you don't you'll never see it.

There is it sitting on a small hill, tucked back into the woods. See it now? That glint seems to be floating, hovering taking only a small bit of time and space. Its a single pane of glass, seemingly floating in the middle of the woods. There are too many leaves at this time of year for it to be seen clearly.

The mind does seem to play tricks when you see it for the first time. The more you look at it the more it seems to disappear before your eyes. Fading in and out of reality, the same way an oasis does in the middle of the desert heat.

The first time that I saw it I didn't know if I could believe what my eyes had just shown to me.

Its view was so strange to me that I had to stop the car to get a second look, a closer look. Putting the car into reverse I could see a patch of grass in the rear view mirror. A faint foot path up the hill towards it is outlined in the grass, I would not be the first to venture a closer look.

Getting out of the car, I began to scan the surrounding woods, looking for signs which would keep me in my car. Footprints from a hunter or derelect who calls this place his home.

With the engine no longer producing a sound, I began to hear the sullen sounds of nature just off the highway.

Far off in the distance a lone loon could be hear calling to his mate. A few chirps from a nearby cricket could be heard as the wind rustled through the grass around my ankles.

Feeling the blades of long grass moving underneath my pants sent chills up my spine.

My gaze wandered from the edge of the road towards the top of the small hill, that I was determined to climb.

As I surveyed the landscape, a few things stood out among the tall grass just off to the right was a large rock. The positioning of the rock made it look unnaturatal, the top of the rock was flat and seemed to have a dirt ring around the top, as if it had been moved in the last few months.

I concentrated on the rock and tried to find the path in which the rock had fallen down from the hill. Halfway up the hill, about 6 feet from the rock I saw a pile of dirt. This was where the rock bounced down the hill.

A look of concern crossed my face. That rock bounced? I asked myself. Maybe thats just a hole dug by a coyote. Trying to convince myself but using happy thoughts.

The grass leading from in front of me was discoloured, a dull lifeless green. The further up the hill my gaze traveled the lighter the colour as though the life was being sucked from the grass.

Swallowing my pride, I straightened.

Taking my foot off the safety of the gravel shoulder of the highway I began my slow walk up the hill towards the glimmering light.

After a few feet, I stopped to look up the slight incline towards my target, no more that 15 steps away was the edge of the woods.

My heart began to race, I was excited to see exactly what was contained within this structure. The same one I had been looking at countless times while driving. Would there be nothing but old clothes and moldy bread from a long forgotten hunting trip or would I find a small treasure of gold coins, like they find in the movies?

A smile crept across my face at the thought of this.

I tried to keep my mind on target. Getting too easily excited about a 'treasure' could make the situation even more dangerous.

I quickly looked down at my watch, as I remembered the appointment I was driving towards before I stopped. My eyes widened.

Had it really been an hour since I stepped foot out of the car?

Once I reached the edge of the woods the view through the trees seemed to have gotten thicker as if a small fog had rolled out of the leaves. Was this a sign from the woods to keep my distance and stay way?

I was about to find out.

A gust of wind picks up from behind me, the trees rustle and shift in the late afternoon sunshine. A beam of light comes streaking through the trees as I reach my hand towards some of the overgrown brush in front of me.

The sparkle of the day startles me as I concentrate on the light shining on my hand. While lost in the glimmer of the sun, a small bug lands on my out stretched hand and begins to walk around in a small circle.

After a moment, the wind subsides and the bug flies off into the wood as the beam of light fades from my hand.

The thick brush is difficult to push through, after shoving several large bushes to one side I am finally able to pass through the most difficult section and into a small clearing.

The utter beauty of what is before me is shocking, the life of the day is shining through the trees above and providing a dazzling light show on the ground before me. Light reflects off of the trunks of trees, the dew covered blades of grass and a lone pane of glass.

Before me is the glass that has brought me to this place of tranquility and beauty.

Expecting to see a rundown shack with a broken pane of glass, I was disappointed and excited to find this in its place.

Hung from a single branch in the middle of the clearing is a piece of crystal on a string. The branch is close to 10 feet from the ground and the crystal is planted firmly at eye level to best capture the light from the sun.

As the light dances across the floor of the woods it also travels across some of the many different facets of the polished gem.

I stood at the edge of the clearing transfixed by the simplicity of what I see before me. Time seems to have stopped at that point. I am unable to hear the sounds of nature around me.

The gentle rustle of the leaves has slowly been replaced by a sound which is unlike anything I have heard ever again. The sound seemed to come from the center of the crystal and changed everytime a ray of light touched it.

The closest think that I can use to describe the sound is the gentle warble heard from the ticking of a watch underwater. There is no distinct noise, yet it was every noise.

For each passing second I was there, I began to see images form within the crystal. Images of things that have never happened and are destined to be repeated for all eternity. A faint glimpse of another world, fleeting into the past.

Children played. Bells were chiming. Cars were flying. Horses pulled tractors. The train ran on water. A fire burned only the edges. A bird died. A woman loved.

A single tear formed in the corner of my eye and ran down my cheek to the ground.

I suddenly felt very alone in the woods, I wanted to turn around to leave but I could not let my gaze leave the depth of the crystal.

As the sun began to set, the world around me started to suddenly come back into focus. The crystal was loosing its alure, my eyes started to dance around the clearing, but always returning to the crystal.

I could feel the crystal calling to me, trying to pull me closer to it.

The world around me started to move as I suddenly became aware that I was taking steps toward the center of the clearing.

I was no longer sure if I was in control of my own body.

As I got closer to the crystal I could see my own reflection within it. The face looking back at me was smiling.

My hand rose towards the crystal; as my fingers opened to grasp the crystal from the string I could see the crystal begin to pulse light from its core.

My finger touched the crystal and I the world was flooded with the most intense light I had ever experienced in my life. The light was brighter than 10 suns. I tried to close my eyes but I was unable to move.

The wind began to blow harder and stronger, I could feel things around me beginning to move.

Was it me that was moving or the world around me?

The light around me begin to lessen, I could almost make out some shapes around me. Was that a cow? Could that be a house?

My eyes darted around frantically looking for some familiar shape that I could focus on to regain my vision.

In a panic I began to walk forward to see if I could find anything.

After two steps I came to a crashing halt, as I lifted my leg to take another step my knee made contact with something metal. A faint and low thud echoed around me.

I reached out for the object and what I found before me startled me. My fingers ran across a flat smooth surface with a few ridged areas at the edges. After a moment of frantic identification the clouds in my vision were replaced by a familiar shape.

It was my car.

At some point during the blinding light, I had managed to walk back down the hill to the car.

It was no longer sunset, the sun was shining.

I raised my hand to look at my watch and noticed that was only 3pm. Standing on the side of the road I realized that it was all just a day dream and I had not gone to see what was in the woods after all.

I open the car door and got in the car. I let out a little sigh of releif as I put on my seat belt.

With the strap pressed against my chest I could feel something pressed against my skin, it was the necklace that my daughter had made for me.

Lifting it out from underneath my shirt I looked at the ornate crystal hanging from the string necklace. It was beautiful, I loved looking at it shimmer in the sunlight.

I vowed that I would never let if out of my sight.

"The Box"

The following is a work of fiction and should not be taken seriously in any manner:

The day was the 23rd of October, and I will remember it forever. It is the day that my world was flipped upside down. What makes this day so special?

This was the day that I found the dirt covered box in our backyard.

There was nothing special about this box from the first time that I saw it. It was unremarkable in every manner.

Taking the dog for a walk in the woods one day after work, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. As soon as I turned to face the object the dog could sense what I had found and began to whimper at the sight of my discovery.
   
Poking up out of the ground was a piece of metal with a small silver nail. I bent down to investigate closer, a cool breeze blew across my shoulder to reveal more of the box.

I grabbed a stick that lay on the ground near my right foot.

Was that there a few minutes ago? I ask myself.

I used the stick to chisel out the sides of the box so that I might be able to pull it out further.

A simple square wooden box, held shut with a small twig.

The twig holding it shut was something you would have found on the ground in the woods after being discarded by teenager once the leaves and small branches had been taken off. There was a small bump on either side of the lock mechanism which is why it was still closed after all these years.

I debated bringing the box in the house with me, but figured that it must belong to someone.

I left it where it was, off to the right side of the path still mostly buried in the dirt.  Hoping that by uncovering it more someone would see it and remember that it was there.

After arriving home I packed the dog in the car to take a quick drive into town to pick up a few groceries, before sitting down to do some extra work this evening.
   
When I arrived home I noticed something different, the dog did not want to leave the car. Normally, he's trying to get out the door before I've actually opened it.

Today he sits on the passenger seat and just looks at me.  Whimpering a little.

I follow his glance and notice that there is something blocking the steps leading into the house.

Initially I am unable to distinguish what I am looking at. Slowly, my eyes begin to focus on the object and I notice what is sitting on the steps.

Its the wooden box that I uncovered in the woods.

There is something about the box this time, it looks a little different almost hollow.

I slowly begin to exit the car and tell the dog to stay. I look back into the car one last time and notice the dog has hidden himself under the seat.

I begin to edge closer to the house, taking one step at at time to make sure that I keep my distance.

As I near the house I see what is different about the box. Its been opened.

The lid of the box is laying completely open and flat against the stairs behind it.

I look around the area to see if I can see any foot prints or markings of the person who might have moved it there.
   
It was shortly after this that I noticed that the twig holding the box shut is in two pieces as if it was opened from the inside.
   
I began to wonder what could have opened the box from the inside when I heard the grass rustling from behind me.

As I turn to see what is behind me, I can hear the dog barking from inside the car trying to get my attention.

I being to turn around to see what was behind me when the world went black.

There were a few fragmented sounds that I can remember hearing before everything just stopped. I remember a low humming noise that seemed to come from every direction all at once, and a tearing sound which may have been from my leg.

Who could be so cruel?

Sad lonely eyes looking up at the world from the side of the road, wondering why no one will stop to say hello to me. Watching a million people walk by blissfully ignoring my presence in the world as if I were nothing.

Waiting for the perfect opportunity when someone would give me just a little, I've been hungry for days now. I'm beginning to see the world as a dark and cruel place, it wasn't that long ago when the world was my oyster, and I could have anything I desired.

What happened to those days? Did I do something wrong to deserve this? If I could say I'm sorry to the people that I loved I would, if I could say anything I'm sure someone would stop to help.

I put my head on the ground and wait. I wait for my turn. Someone will have the courage to help me.

Finally someone comes near to me, I lift my head up in hopes that they'll stop and pay some attention to me. That after countless hours sitting patiently in the sun I'll get what I need.

Again, I go unnoticed as the tall stranger zooms past and into the shop. The person does a double take as they enter the shop. Were they looking at me?

They turned around in the door and look out at the world from the safe confines of the shop. Is it time?

They wave. I look around and see another person on the other side of the road wave back.

Putting my head down again, I feel alone and rejected.

A small child comes towards me. They're always so friendly and caring. I begin to stand to greet them when a large person accompanying they yanks them out of the way.

Looking up at them I can only see an outline of a figure with a halo of light visible around their head as if they were blocking out the sun. Are they the person of my dreams who has come to rescue me from this life on the street? Are they an angel sent from heaven to take me away?

The person raises their hand to the sky in a gesture to bring it down on my head.

I cringe in fear, waiting for the inevitable moment when that blinding red pain will light up my world making it hard to concentrate, to see.

It doesn't come, instead I hear a shrill of laughter as the person can only pat himself on the back as he saw the fear in my eyes.

Why do people have to be so cruel? Would they find the same enjoyment if they were huddled in a corner on the sidewalk while so many people passed them by?

-----

This story is inspired by the dog that I saw today while I was having breakfast at a little cafe here in Brunei.

Before we left the cafe one of the other shop keepers chased him away. I can't imagine someone being so cruel to an animal who's only looking for some food and love. I could never live here, I would have a house full of dogs all of which I see on my daily commute to work.

Minimalist world view...

Here is a little story I came up with this morning. Its about life in a park on a windy day and how people don't take the time to see the little things around them. Life on the planet is so relaxing as it happens before your eyes.

~~~~~~~

The trees lean towards the left as the breeze cuts across the park. From across the park I can see people hurrying in and out of shoppes; scurrying like mice in a rain storm. Not a drop of water has fallen yet but the everyones faces will tell you otherwise.

A steady line of leaves roll past my feet as I sit on the bench. Alternating between red, orange and brown; they jump and dance in the air as if happy to have escaped from the clutches of the trees.

Naked and alone, a single sapling stands shivering to my right. If it were a person I would gladly give it my sweater, as I'm finding it a little warm today. I wait for the tree to get swept out of the ground as a strong gust picks up. The tree seems determined to hold its ground, not willing to move for anyone.

From around the corner of a building a man in a suit comes running. With a briefcase in hand, he attempts to seek refuge from the impending storm. He runs across the park with one hand on his head and the other holding his briefcase over his head. He is attempting to keep his hair piece from blowing away; days like these make me wonder why he even bothers.

He runs without looking. His eyes are fixed on one thing only, making it across the park without getting wet. Full of determination and confidence, he looks as though he has just negotiated the contract of his life.

Feeling as though he's still in control of everyone around him, the high powered business man almost knocks over a toddler playing in the sand. He quickly side steps the helpless child and curses under his breath.

A snarling mother looks on from a nearby bench. She begins to yell at the man, but he is too wrapped up in his own mind to even care what she has to say.

From this distance I can not make out any of the words. I sense the anger by the look on her face.

I want to intervene as he runs by me, glaring at me from the corner of his eye. I want to tell him that he can't do as he pleases.

Words escape me.

Instead I watch helplessly as the man tramples on the tree, snapping it near the base.

It is motionless, no longer swaying in the breeze. He did not even glance to see what he had stepped on.

The man is now around the corner of the building. On his way to snuff out another life, I assume.

Inside my head I can no longer hear the chatter of the tree telling me about his heritage. Emotion swells up in my eyes as I look at the tree trying to determine if it will be able to continue to grow. Maybe the tree will grow up with some character, a good place for children to play and build a fort.

My hopes are quickly dashed as a heavy gust picks up blowing a newspaper around. The thick and heavy paper gets tangled in the small branches of the tree. When the paper passes over top of the crippled tree only the stump is still there.

As the wind dies down I can see the trunk of the tree sticking out from underneath the sports section just a few feet in front of me.

From across the park I hear the muted laughter of the child playing with their toys. The sadness is lifted from me, the world is moving on.

A bird lands near the paper, foraging for some materials to fortify its nest. The instinct to protect its young is strong. Seeing the remains of the young tree the bird quickly hops over to it and carries it off into the sky.

As I stand I can feel the ache of pain in my knee from the impending rain. I turn to look back on the park and the happiness it brings.

I make a note to myself to return tomorrow with another tree to put in its place.

Official Retardation...

I have just recently come up with a fantastic idea for the names of our children, my wife isn't that thrilled but that will be discussed in a minute. Typically people find a name that they like and they stick to it, most of the time to the displeasure of their significant other.

My wife and I have been pretty amicable when devising names for the children we haven't conceived. Normally, the names we come up with are standard names, Zachary, Stephen, etc. I sometimes like to stray from the norm and suggest names that I find cool like Vladamir. Its a really strong name, I can't help it.

I'm generally not a fan of my name, Albert, you know it does kind of suck. But then again, when I have an idea like this I warm up to my name even more.

The world knows I'm a dork, and I want my children to know I'm a dork as well. What about naming them after me? That is generally a noble tradition that has been handed down for generations of wealthy people in the past. How can I take that tradition and geekify it?

Albert , version 2.0 - That is what I will name my first son.
Albert, version 3.0 - will be the name of my second child.

I mentioned this to my wife as a humorous note to see how well she'd take it. As you may have guessed, she didn't share my enthusiasm for the venture.

Until I can win her over, I'm going to slowly rename our cats from Puddles and Jacques to Cat 1.0 and Cat 1.1.

Ah, the life of a dork.

Creative Writing...

Its a weird world in which we live. Its strange to think that we remember so much of the things we've forgotten.

Judging by the profoundly confused look in my own face, I may have to explain the above statements.

I have been carrying around 2 stories in various stages of completeness for the better part of 2 years. These stories, as I've explained before, are ones that I've started at a different time in my life, at a time when there were endless possibilities for what I wanted to do and the time that I had to spend doing it.

I sat down today, taking some time out of my day from work, and begin to reread these master pieces of horror and macabre. Within the first 10 minutes of reading the pages I was immersed back into the world that I had created, the plot came flooding back into me, the little nuances of the characters became the focus of my attention. I flipped to the end to read what I had concluded about the ending, and deciding that it needed to be re-written. Based upon a few notes that I had included in previous pages I had formulated an entire alternate ending, a complete plot twist from how it was originally intended to conclude.

I have begun to notice that I have not enjoyed a movie, book, comic, tv series where every single loose end is tied and you know exactly what happens with the characters after the cameras are turned off. Take the movie “Children of Men” where the movie ends with the characters on a boat, waiting to be rescued. That is the kind of thing that interests me, if you don't what happens next then you are bound to be intrigued and formulate your own opinions with your friends and co-workers. That is the main point of a story if you ask me, to have people remember it and talk about it among themselves spreading the word.

That is the goal of my writing.

an incidental theory of chaos

I was sitting around this evening watching a few movies sitting in the living room (if you wanted to know I was watching Crank and Sherrybaby) when I just started writing a few scattered images and words that were popping into my mind. Some may make some sense while others have been added for the sheer simplicity that they provide. There are no hidden images or meaning in this, there is only a small story about life and how everything may tie together.

overwhelmed and consumed by a mountain of disdain and disappointment. laying to the left in a crumpled heap on the floor is a piece of paper that I once held close to my heart. torn and tattered it sits there waiting for someone to reach over and touch its soft texture. the feeling is still there after holding it, the pressure of the edges rubbing against the fingertips as if it were still pressed against the skin. dropped to the floor, rolling around the room like a butterfly navigating through the forest. Delicate beauty uncovered and naked for all of the world to see. exposed to the elements and blowing with the breeze floating through the air. scattered around the area are a few of the stray images of the past that reflect the great things in life. past present and future can be found here, all things have their beginning and their end in this room; sometimes towards the beginning without even realizing it seeds are planted. growing and germinating life is abundant all around. the simplicity of starting over putting you feet firmly in a single location and having life spread all around. one step forward never yields two steps back unless it is willed. bad things only happen to those that want it. the winds of change have been blowing working its way into your life in an attempt to cause chaos. in theory, the strongest foundation will survive the strongest storm.

Options....

Pick and choose your poison.

Sitting here looking around the barren landscape, tattered papers laying on the floor. A breeze creeps around the corner emanating from a nearby open window. The corner of the papers lift off the ground showing its delicate underside; the faded words are showing a glimpse as to the knowledge that they contained. The words are bleached from sitting idly on the floor.

The area seems to have been abandoned some years ago, people have fled abandoning everything that was dear to them. Looking at the archaic items scattered on the tables you attempt to understand how people had lived before they had fled. The air is stale and devoid of all scent, dust covers your progress forward and is beginning to hide where you had come from.

It seems like eternity since a person has stepped foot into this area. Large pockets of dust have started to collect on top of the machines that were once the cutting edge technology. They have been forgotten; turned into relics that no one cares about.

After careful observation, it appears as though not everyone had fled initially. Some brave individuals seem to have stayed behind, you notice that there are stains on the floor indicating some kind of struggle had taken place in time after the event. They seem to have attempted to rebuild their society in this location in an attempt to maintain stability.

Looking to the left there is a single pole standing in the middle of a large open area that was once reserved for the most important gatherings. It has been reduced to a scene of desperation and violence. The remnants of a once noble piece of furniture have been reduced to embers in a vain attempt at fighting off the cold that has ravaged this area.

The pole has scene better days as well, once the focal point of presentations it was briefly turned into a sacrificial shrine as desperate people had turned to violent rituals to make the suffering and pain stop. The most revered and important individuals were bound to the pole and ritualistically beaten in an attempt to keep the evil spirits from entering into their new homes. From the state of the surrounding landscape it looks as though this did not help to ease their suffering.

Needless violence was determined to be the cause and the solution to their plight. How can a society take a step back in time in an attempt to solve their problems? Haven't we learned from the mistakes of the past....

Peaceful and serene...

with a touch of chaos.

One of the most peaceful things that I can think of doing at any point in time is driving. Just you and the open road before you as you attempt to reach your destination within a certain time frame, if you are so inclined. The only thing that matter and keeps you company is the little voices inside your head, or a talkative passenger.

The drive home from Sussex last night was one of those calm moments. The patter of the rain on the car; the sound of the water as it splashes on the underside of the car. Its one of those moments that you want to capture on tape and listen to over and over again in your most stressful times.

The lights shine up ahead of you revealing bits and pieces of the road, essentially showing you your future. Up ahead, a sign informing you that highway 880 is to the left and coincidentally to the right as well. Just past the sign on the side of the road the leaves jump up from their rest on the side of the road and begin their dance with the wind. As you drive past the leaves continue to dance in their upward spiral trying to climb up high one more time.

Theres something to be said about the naivety of the night. It may be dark and cold but it does not know what it contains on the outskirts of your circle of light. Around the corner there may be a dear waiting for it to be safe to cross the road, there may be nothing. An intense feeling creeps over you as you being to make the gradual movement in the turn. You're attention turns everywhere as you try to determine the safeness of this particular turn. As you exit the corner, you breathe a sign of relief, you are safe again.

When you're in the car with me, I am determined to keep you safe; to prove to you that there is nothing out there that can harm you.

Things that go bump...

in your head.

Sitting in the car today I was looking around the road at the lights near my house when out of the corner of my eye, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I quickly snapped my head to the right to see what was moving when I saw the tiniest little thing running across the road. The blurry shape didn't stop moving for what seemed like an eternity, scurrying this way and that, finally coming to rest on top of the front steps a of a little grey house. Perched on the top step like he was the king of the world was a chubby grey squirrel.

Staring off into the darkness, the squirrel was trying to determine the level of danger in the area. Unaware of his surroundings he tore off into the darkness underneath the step.

What was a squirrel doing up this early in the morning? I didn't know that they started their work day the same time that I did. He could have been coming home after a long night of heavy drinking. A little over ambition never really could hurt anyone, especially a little squirrel who needs to hide his nuts. You never know what those tricky guys are up to....

As I drove away, I kept checking in my rearview mirror to see if I could see the brave little squirrel. I wonder if I'll ever see him again. As the house gets further and further away the squirrel leaves my mind and floats off into the darkness.

Yeah, so I'm full of crap. I made that shit up.