THE MOST BORING HUMAN TALKS ABOUT BOREDOM

When he was younger he had read somewhere - "If you are bored then you must be boring too." - or maybe it was a lyric to a long forgotten song. Anyway, the words stuck in his mind like a statue of a thorn. Forever anchored. Words to call upon to try to keep him excited and productive which would in turn hopefully make him exciting to other people and let his creativity flow like a faucet. Mostly he just thought about that saying and refused to admit he was bored. The worst part would be when he heard someone nearby mutter the dreaded - "I'm bored." - What was he to do? Recite his trusty phrase to hopefully spark something within them? From up on high - Here is Mr. I Never Get Bored And You Shouldn't Either! They would most likely take offense. Maybe he could overcompensate and fabricate some sort of excitement with a story or call to action? Some way to effortlessly pull them from their uninterested state. They would probably see through him. They would know he was struggling to go on with the charade himself. It is a hard battle against the boredom. When it consumes it is tough to get out of the hole. Sometimes Thursdays just happen. Unremarkably and without notice.

HORROR HAIKU II

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A DEAD BODY LAYS
ON TOP OF A LIVING ONE
NECROPHILIA
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BLOOD WET TEETH DUG DEEP
UPON THE FLESH OF FRESH DEAD
A RESURRECTION
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AROUND THE BONFIRE
NAKED HEATHEN ARE DANCING
CONJURING GRIM DEATH
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FLAMES LICKING THE SKY
CHAOS THROUGHOUT A WASTELAND
KISS YOUR ASS GOODBYE
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ROTTEN TO THE CORE
IT TAKES ITS FIRST STEPS ON EARTH
THE SPAWN OF SATAN
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FAMILIAR FACE
IN AN OBITUARY
THE FACE IS YOUR OWN
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A PLACE TO KEEP A COUPLE SECONDS WORTH REMEMBERING II

The song ended and I thought to myself that the world is leaderless, and full of savages. My girlfriend nudged my arm and told me we have to have a boy first. I felt a twinge up my spine as thoughts rippled through me. It is weird how people experience things differently, but also completely the same. She whispered that demand in my ear in-between songs. We were standing up front at a concert so it was less of a whisper and more of a quiet rasp shouted at my head. There were so many feelings to feel. The band started another song with all feedback. Chemicals swam through my veins - thoughts swirled in and out of past, present, and future tense. It was the best kind of overwhelming. It was amazing how many ideas and scenarios were flashing through my mind. I couldn't keep up or I would have tried to make a note to myself to do something with the mess I was conjuring. There were too many ideas, philosophies, anecdotes, dreams, hopes, and inspirations flowing through the chaos. I wondered if she felt the same. We smiled back and forth as the sounds consumed the air around us. I thought she was probably thinking of the boy we would have one day. But maybe she was on to her next idea, philosophy, anecdote (from her day that would soon vanish that she would later try to recall to tell me about but fail.. until a couple days later), dream, hope, or inspiration that flowed through her. Or maybe she just had that one nice, perfect, thought about us. Shared it with me, and that was it. Back to the music. That thought slipped through my mind and now I could hardly take the beauty of the world. And how lucky I was to be in with someone that would say something like that to me. It was one of those nights to refresh the system. To let the mind cycle through exciting fresh thoughts and to filter out the festering doubts that had been building up. So what if the world felt leaderless and full of savages? There is good to be had in the smallest details far far away in our own corners of it. We can be our own savage leaders. Later that night we went to bed and joked about the ringing in our ears.

G'BYE!

The boy just turned 4 years old. It was the day after the party, and he felt like things went as well as they could have possibly gone. He ate all of the tasty food he asked his Mom to make, he got all of the newest toys he asked his Dad for, and all of his friends seemed to enjoy all the fun party games. It truly was a splendid day. Although, looking around at the world outside of the protected bubble of his family the boy couldn't help but notice something was wrong. Society was off, and he knew it. He had seen the homeless man mumbling things at his mother and him when they walked to the grocery store. He did not know the words, but he could understand the desperation. He had gone to bed without dinner a couple times and he felt like he was right there with the guy. Starving and incoherent. The bright eyed 4 year old had also heard the screaming coming from a couple houses down the block. Laying in his bed he wondered how people could scream so loud so late at night. There were things in this world that were so close to touching his own. He felt like any moment he could be pulled into the madness that endlessly swirled through alleys and crowds around every turn. Here he was - 4 years old and 1 day. He was already done with all of it. There was just too much confusion, and sorrow, and frustration, and definitely not enough laughter and understanding. The boy didn't know many words, and wasn't sure what he would do once he got out on his own. He just had a feeling he might not need to grow up like everyone else. He strapped on his red backpack that carried a couple of his favorite books, his stuffed bear, and some snacks. He walked out through his front door to the driveway. He crouched down as hard as he could and leapt into the brisk morning air. Once he felt his sneakers leave the concrete the weight was lifted from his mind, and he also felt weightless. He was no child of gravity like the rest of us. There was no coming back down for this one. "G'bye Ma! G'bye Dad! G'bye Earth! Who needs ya?" - said the 4 year old.

THE MOON COLONY

The Moon Colony had a huge party last night. They celebrate every full moon. Or as they call it, Sun Day. On Earth it was just a normal day, but something in the back of our heads kept bringing us back to their lunar holiday excitement. Something in our minds saying - "Hey - Remember the full moon - Remember to look up and check it out - people are up there! - Look up tonight!" Staring up at it while taking my dogs out last night I could have sworn I saw them partaking in the festivities across the rocky barren landscape. I swear I could see the craters packed with people dancing to the live music blasting out into space from makeshift stages. I also thought I saw their moon cars ripping around tracks; hitting ramps and floating for what seemed like miles in the low gravity. I even could have sworn I could make out a group of teenagers doing record long keg stands around the famous American flag that was stashed up there long ago. Of course I could not see any of these things. They were just some stuff I pictured The Moon Colony enjoyed doing on their Sun Day Party Day. Actually, I was viewing the same white and grey glowing rock that always floated in the open sky. Quiet, ominous, and beautiful. It was exciting to think of the people up there having a fucking blast on a dead lifeless rock though. With a stunning view of Mother Earth floating up in their sky. I waved up to them and thought about someone imagining they see me. "Party on Moon Colony." It was time for me to go bed.

KILLING TIME KILLING THE EAST SIDE

A bright kid with a vivid imagination was traveling at eighty miles per hour in her parents station wagon. She was sitting in the front seat while her mother drove on. For some reason a scene of destruction sprang to life in her mind. She pictured the side view mirror extending for miles from where she was sitting. As far as her eyes could view. The entire front side of it growing into a sharp mechanical blade. Chainsaw teeth gnashing along the full length of the weightless protrusion that hovered three feet from the surface of the Earth. She pictured it cutting across the land - laying waste to anything unfortunate enough to be on the East side of the road on which they were traveling. Trees were cut through like butter and came crashing down in their wake. Street signs were clipped and flung into the air. Fences were long cuts she enjoyed. She felt as though the car would slow slightly to finish the tough jobs like grinding through houses, sheds, and cows. From where she sat comfortably she felt no remorse when hills in the distance rose up to the height of the cutting device only to be leveled off. It went on and on. In her head she was hearing the slicing, sawing, grinding, screams, and squeals of the unfortunate East siders. An hour later her mother pulled into a parking lot. They had reached their destination. The little girl hopped out of the car with a beaming smile. She couldn't wait for the drive home to conquer the West.

A PLACE TO KEEP A COUPLE SECONDS WORTH REMEMBERING

For seemingly no reason at all I woke up in the middle of the night. I was sandwiched between two dogs and a beautiful woman during a brisk fall night. In my haze between waking and dreams I felt the brief blissful moment of not knowing what time it was, what day it was, or even exactly where we were at the moment. We had moved a lot together and I still hadn't quite gotten used to waking up in this specific apartment. I did know that with these three creatures pressing closely against me for warmth, and love it was the right place for me to be. If only I could have held onto that moment forever. All of these things experienced within the drowsy seconds; the shifting of our bodies, adjustments to feel that we were all still right where we should be, a stretching paw, a hand held tightly to the chest, a foot escaping from the bottom of the blankets, an exhale, the distant sound of a train passing, the windblown curtain letting cool air in, grabbing onto hips that press slightly back into me, and running my hand along her curves to feel the warmth of her arched back. A fleeting moment of arousal that immediately becomes nullified by the tidal wave of sleep that washes us all back into the nothingness.

CHOOSE YOUR DEMON

On your 6th birthday you'll do just like all the other kids have done. Just like your parents, and just like the way I did way way back when. The old man was trying to prepare his only grandson for what was to come. It was winter, and they were sitting by a smoldering fire. The kid didn't know what to say about any of it so he sat in silence, staring up. The man seemed to take his queues on what to say next from the childs' facial expressions. Right now he looked as if he was perpetually seeing a ghost. Focused on his granddad with deep cut wrinkled features that looked as though they were becoming more ghoulish and he was getting closer to death by the second in the flickering fading fire light. If it'll make you feel any better son - I'll give you a glimpse at mine. The boy knew it was against the rules, but he also knew there were certain rules that could be bent for direct blood relatives. There were so many rules for simple things. The 5 year old child gave a slight nod. He was sick of the waiting, worrying, and wondering. Alright, now don't stare too long. He warned. These things are for the ones that chose them. With that the wise grandfather leaned back in his chair as far as he could go. He had been hunched over for so long you could have sworn you heard his back crack completely along the spine. From behind the chair the small boy saw the shadows start to change. The flat black darkness began to rip itself from the wall. The fireplace leapt to life with a few flames, but it didn't cast any more light on the scene. The darkness had gathered into a form behind his granddads chair and took a step forward into partial light. It was no longer just a shadow, but a fully formed demon. The boys first glimpse at what was in store for the rest of his days. A demon to call his own. His grandfathers demon was obviously ancient. He remembered hearing all the stories - the demon will age 17 times faster than you - the demon will go through countless phases in its own life cycles - the demon will only speak to you - the demon should only be seen by you or your blood relatives - etc etc etc. In a quiet rasp he then heard his grandfather speak to his nearly lifelong companion in a strange language. Znartoov karloz e bleezen - retlichz qa vvanetzz. The demon stepped further into the light and directly faced the child. In full view the kid saw a being double the size of his grandfather. Its skin looked like charcoal. A shimmering grey black coarseness throughout. Its eyes were piercing. A crimson glow. The mouth a sickly grin that opened to reveal teeth like broken glass, odd-shapen shards. The boy was captivated and only got such a brief description started when his grandpa snapped him out of it by shouting for him to look away. The boy immediately looked back into the fire. More foreign words. Xzarrch ul zeezhark. He heard a soft crumble and looked back to the scene. The demon was gone. The shadows had reformed to their normal positions. Now - that wasn't so bad, was it? With a forced smile full of dread the kid said it was not so bad. He did not want to spend his whole life with a demon. He wondered why it was like this - why has it always been? His grandfather said he was a good boy, and everything will be fine. Tomorrow he would choose his demon.

NO REFLEX

She asked him to have 1 more drink to cap off the night. Almost as if it was a reflex he said, "nah - let's go home to the dogs." It felt instinctive to decline any invitation straight away for him. Why was that? What horrible lineage and misguided DNA created this feeling to go against a good time automatically. A moment later he was trying to backtrack the words. "Yeah ok, we can definitely do that... we should." But the damage had been done. She wanted him all in from the start. She want spontaneity. She wanted to feel like he was with her 100% tonight. The whole day had been going so smoothly, but it turned out they were running on different tracks the entire time. After the negative response had been uttered the 2 trains started to part ways into the darkness. Gliding along tracks that were slowly spreading farther and farther apart. There was only a small hope of them somehow weaving their way back to be side by side for their journeys ahead. He hoped greatly that their tracks would merge by the time morning came.

HORROR HAIKU I

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LONELY PERSON WALKS
ANOTHER LONELY FOLLOWS
MURDER NEVER SOLVED
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HALLS LINED WITH MEATHOOKS
DECORATIONS OF THE DAMNED
SCREAMS DO ECHO ON
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DARKNESS DURING DAY
ALL MEMORIES OF A LIFE
ETERNALLY CAGED
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GRAVE SOUNDS FROM NEXT DOOR
MURMURED SCREAMS THEN SUDDEN HALT
SHOVEL DIGGING NOW
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AN UGLY MAN SITS
HE PICKS AT HIS FINGERNAILS
THE BLOOD WON'T COME OFF
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THE WIND WHISTLING HARD
THROUGH THE CRACKS IN WOODEN SLATS
THE COLD WILL SOON KILL
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PLEASE, JUST LET ME GO!
PLEASE, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS??
(PLEASE SHIELD THE CHILDS EYES)
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TOO OLD TO GO OUT
TRICK OR TREAT MOTHERFUCKER!
HALLOWEEN IS FUN
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A GRASSY FIELD SWAYS
THE ESCAPEE DASHES THROUGH
BLOOD TRACKS ON THE BLADES
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QUEEN OF ARCADE BAR

Molly woke up in Hangover Land. It is the exact same land as the normal Planet Earth that we all wake up in, but she was fucking hungover. Her eyes could barely pry themselves open through her day old makeup and eye crust, but her alarm had now been going off for 15 minutes. The communication between ear, brain, and muscle functioning systems had finally succeeded in getting the messages sent. Eyes - open. Arm - stretch to turn off alarm. Vocal chords - "Goddamnit" she mumbled. From that point Molly seemed to regain power over her husk of a body. She reached over to hit the 'SNOOZE' button reflexively. The noise would return in 15 minutes, and she had better not be there when it did. Molly had to get to work. It was only Wednesday. With her body still nestled under the covers, her head on her cozy pillow, she wondered, "Why the fuck did I go out on a Tuesday night?"

While Molly went for a new record in getting ready and out the door (under 10 minutes) she noticed her apartment had some clues about last night. She surveyed the living room area. A half-eaten pizza on the coffee table, something yellow smeared on a shoe, 3 crumpled up pieces of paper (upon further inspection: 1- a phone number from someone with no name given. 2- a wet booze smelling receipt with ink smeared to oblivion. Damn. That would have at least solved the mystery of where exactly she drank so much. 3. another receipt for a frozen pizza at Safeway down the street), on the floor a roll of quarters on top of a spread of 10-15 loose quarters, a scepter laying on the couch, and finally her cat staring directly into an empty food bowl. "Shit! Sorry Chino!" She rushed passed him with a pat on the head over to the kitchen and found the cupboard to grab a can for the poor starving beast. While the electric can opener did it's job she pondered these clues. Wait- A scepter!!?

She peered over at the full size beautiful staff. Completely golden except for a gleaming green gem cradled in what looked like talons at the top. It all came rushing back.

Her day job is reviewing sex toys. It is not as exciting or pornographic as you would think. She has a corner office with a view of her city that is nice, and everyday a few boxes of new merchandise arrive at her desk for review. She writes her general opinions on a very popular sex blog, and gets paid a modest hourly wage. It's much more monotonous and dull than she ever thought it would be when she accepted the position. But it is interesting, and it keeps her writing. Sadly, she never actually gets to tests the majority of them due to the high volume that rolls through. There is just not enough time in the day to test all of the worlds dildos and nipple clamps! From time to time she'll get permission from her manager to spend a couple days with some choice products that she deems worthy.

There is a bar nearby where Molly works. Everyday when she drives home she drives past it. It's just called Arcade Bar. And it is exactly that. A bar with an arcade. Outside there is a life sized, wood carved, Pac-Man. This is where last night's impulse had brought her. By herself while driving home she had the sudden urge to play arcade games. Something she had fond memories of with her brothers when they were little kids. The booze was also an added bonus that drew her in. After playing for a couple hours she was taking a break at the bar and looked up. To her amazement was the glorious golden scepter. She pointed at it and screamed over the loud electronic arcade noises to the bartender, "What do you have to do to become Queen of Arcade Bar?!" and without a hint of humor or jest the barkeep barked back, "Get your ass eaten out by Pac-Man!"

The memories flooded back now. She immediately remembered waltzing outside the establishment. So ready. A few geeks who were already clinging at a few arms length to the beautiful girl that chose their home away from home to come for the night followed the excitement outdoors. The bartender kept the door open to the bar to keep one eye on what was happening inside and be sure to see his brave patron complete the challenge. Molly stood next to the wooden mouth agape Pac-Man in all his iconic beauty. She said, "Alright, so I just like stick my butt in it's mouth?" - "Almost - no pants or underwear of course!" - "Easy! That fucking scepter is miiiine!". And with that she unbuttoned her jeans and swiftly pulled them down along with her thong to offer her ass up to the childhood hero of many children across the land. Indeed, he was seemingly 'eating out her ass'. The bartender clapped and gestured with his arm up to the golden rod glowing above the bar. It was time for Molly to claim her prize.

"What the fuck was all that about? The Queen of the Arcade Bar? Ok." she thought as she plopped the cat food into Chino's dish. It was time to go. She dashed out the door to see what this day would have in store. A moment later her alarm went off again. And it would not stop until later that night when she got home to find it still blaring, her cat more annoyed than this morning, and her scepter resting comfortably on the couch.

ON THE UPSWING

It was just the common cold. That's it. Nothing life threatening or catastrophic. 3 days of real sickness at max. Starting with a scratchy feeling somewhere in the throat, and ending with globs of clear goo shooting out of dry rubbed raw nostrils. In those 3 days I felt like I was all of mankind. I was experiencing all of the struggles to get through this life that came with having a human brain. The despair, agony, gloom, and cruelness of being alive was on full display within. In the swimming thoughts of day 2 I had a thought that to have the so called 'common cold' is to tap into the 'common consciousness' of all human beings. I felt slightly off, completely confused, and ready to accept whatever fate had in store for any given moment. Then suddenly and miraculously, while shuffling to my car after a nightmarish day at work, I felt slightly better. The throat scratch had left my feeble mortal shell, and most likely moved on to some other poor soul. I was on the upswing. From that moment forth it was a glorious 3rd act to a gruesome play. Where I was the star and it was time to conquer the pesky antagonist that had been plaguing the townspeople. Food started to taste like tastes again, the air that was everywhere for the taking was finally able to reach my lungs freely, and the continuous throbbing in my skull had finally quit its ebb and flow. I was free to go back to casual life among the healthy masses. That is the glorious and heartbreaking truth about the common cold. It's just a glimpse at a diagnosis. Then the cure comes along just as the sickness did and the body realigns its chemical composition. Now I am realigned. And for this fleeting moment this morning I can really appreciate the lack of a sickness within. Taking nothing for granted. There are many who have to live every day in sickness. Those who will never see an upswing until it is all over. It is my hope that their end will feel more like hitting a screaming line drive home run to the right field corner to win game 7. Swift and free of all pain.

  

A DARK FIGURE APPROACHES FROM A GREAT DISTANCE. PT 1

A dark figure approaches from a great distance. You can't make out any physical characteristics of the being as it is so far away, but oddly you feel comforted by its impending arrival. How long will it take? In your mind you have plenty of time to contemplate the scenario and what the future may hold. Perhaps an old friend that has been searching far and wide for you has finally reached a successful end to their quest, but are too weary to speed up their progress? Or maybe it is a villain looking for their next victim to prey upon? Yet, you feel no danger as the figure is getting closer. Close enough to make out small details. Around the edges. Flowing fabric? Hair? You wonder if it is even human. A slowly advancing blob of flowing parts that is without a doubt taking steps(?) directly towards you. There is still no color to be seen on the advancing mass. Only endless depths of black and blacker that give no hint of a shadow, and those flapping wisps stretching and recoiling wildly in all directions around the perimeter of the shape. What shape is it? Your eyes strain to see more. But before your pupils can focus on any new details it is your ears that pick up something. A low hum. You become entranced by the drone as its volume increases perfectly in time with your incoming still unknown and unidentified guest. The hum reverberates within you. Down to the muscle and bone. To the core of you. The noise intensifies to a wall of sound that floods you with a warm calm feeling from head to toe. The light you once were naturally bathed in just a few moments ago dims to a darkness that matches the figure that has suddenly and mysteriously arrived within your reach. If only you could get a grip on your own being to make a gesture of greeting! The anomaly of darkness, with its flapping extremities, is presented before you in all its glory. Towering over you with nothing but the deafening hum vibrating your innards that you are sure have turned to mush by now. You focus hard to stay alert and grasp what it is that has come to you. Why has it made this journey and why have you even lingered to get to this point? It's so dark. Vibrations. Trembling. You hope silently for a drop of blue or violet or green or any color from the spectrum to get through the enveloping darkness to give the scene life or meaning. Suddenly, the hum gives way abruptly as complete and utter quiet rushes in. You see a change at the center of the monstrosity. A piercing bright yellow light sears out of a miniscule opening and lands directly on your forehead. Cold and with force. It is a pin hole of hope for understanding. The yellow light expands as the hole opens wider like zippers expanding in all directions until you are bathed in the cold light streaming directly onto you. From the brightness within a small face emerges. The most generic human face, and no distinguishing features to be concerned with. The light is too bright behind the face to see if it connects to some sort of body within the outer endlessly flailing vessel. Or even if it has a neck to support the bland eyes, nose, and mouth. Nevertheless, the face snakes it's way through the air and stops across from your own. The face slowly moves forward while folding in on itself. You prepare for a kiss. But feel nothing and with perfect alignment it attaches itself like a sealant covering your own eyes, nose, and mouth. Like a human sticker that is planted face first onto your own. Soft and seamlessly becoming part of you. At this point it is impossible to fathom what you resemble now, but you don't care because through the reverse eye holes all is revealed. 

To be continued...??