The Undamned Preview

The people around me think they know me, a caricature of my formal self. Days into nights, nights turn into days. Like a cigarette I am burning down and the ashes of what I once was fall to the ground. They sway with the wind as if doing a dance in front of me. Always out of reach, always out of touch. I feel humanity slip away never sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Humanity has been lost for ages. Kindness replaced by with greed and anger. No one truly cares about one anther unless something can be gained. Not sure if that is something new or something I’ve only grown to notice. Nothing more than dollar signs in the eyes of the rich. We feed off of so much pain. The hurting of others drives our entertainment from movies to music. I can not say that I am immune or that I am better than my people. I pay into the violence, I tune into the destruction, and I listen to the anger, and I let it fill me. I allow all of these things just as you do. Just as the public roars for more as if the world has become one large Roman Coliseum. The times they haven’t changed in the thousands of years since. Maybe the violence, the decay is in our genetic code. Attached to each chromosome as if the most important of all our traits. Even the bible, religion the simplest of ideas has been corrupted by the violence of man. The end used to be much simpler but we got more violent more destructive so we attempted to make it better. We introduced the idea of heaven and hell to try to curb the violence but it only spread the idea quicker. It used to be enough to think that when you died you would only reflect on the parts of your life that were good or bad. If you lived a good life a life of right over wrong you would only relive those memories over and over for all eternity. If you chose wrong than you thought about wrong for the same amount of time. It kept peace for a time but the idea that you would only be judge on the actions you take was not enough control for others. In comes heaven and hell. You either follow what we say or you are forever damned. Simple idea only who makes these decisions of right and wrong? Stories told to teach man humanity used to justify the violence of many lead to a darker time than many could have envisioned. We corrupt ideas so we can pretend to not crave the violence but deep down we do. We talk of helping our fellow-man but in the end we only want to see them fall. We enjoy the need to help others but only for a minute then we question what we are really doing. We want to see them suffer. We want to know that in some way it was us that made them suffer a cycle that is not immune to our very selves. If we save one we have to save a million. The commitment of it all is too much to handle. So we revert, picking off each other one by one. Thinning out the herd until there are only those that think like us. But everyone’s different and they all want different things. The only thing we can seem to agree on is the violence of it all as a whole. The destruction of all our hard work, all our sacrifice, so we can watch it all fall. We advance so in the end we have something to tear down. Humanity is lost in the downward spiral of destruction and greed. Humanity has been lost since the dawn of time. We are no better now than in the days of the cave men we just think we are. War spreads our ideas with the religious text we hold as true. The truth to brutal to take in we pretend that this idea, this want is nothing more than fiction. But we know what it is that we do.   I’m not here to preach to you about man or salvation or sell you on the sanctity of the bible. I’m here to tell a story because in the end I’m as selfish as you.

Where to begin? Middle is always interesting, gives me the option to go back and forth throughout the story. Creating an air of mystery over the overall time line. Though the beginning allows me to not lose track of the facts or where it was that I last left off. Starting at the end though is so cliche that the very idea makes me sick. The options are there, but the facts are not all straight. Because the story is still happening though I foresee an ending that is not all too bright. Could be the violence of it all. The story may come to a close, but the tale is only the beginning.

My life is not an open book with fascination around every corner. No my life is boring, obsolete, pointless with a twist. Though I may speak as if I am like you, act much of the same, proclaim we are equals we are not. I am far above you yet so very below you that my existence goes unnoticed for all of my life. I was not born into money, but I have more than I’ll ever care to spend. Once you reach a point in your life you will either understand what I mean or forever be lost in the rat race of hunger and greed. No, no money in my past and an endless supply in my future. This no more defines me than the traits I was born with. A confidence over time is the only thing any man needs. Though for some time doesn’t seem to be an infinite. Confidence will propel anyone into the spot or class or image they choose to perceive. Confidence proves to people you know what you are doing even if you do not. It should always be taken with a grain of salt however, because confidence will get you in more trouble than them all. I am merely an idea brought on to this world to live among you. I am the purest of them all yet I am the darkness. I feed the decay and I join the chant as if I am one of you but never forget that I am not. You may already know who I am or pass me daily. I’m as silent as the night but louder than any one person should be. I grow tired of the riddles, of deceit, time to begin this tale of horror and suspense.

“Get up you dirty fuck!” A kick to the ribs greets me into this world. The pain is intense not from the kick but from deep within. It is as though I am breathing for the first time. It is as though my heart starts for the first time, but not. I want to scream but I catch the next attempt in my hands instead. Words don’t seem to come out right on my end. “Let go of my leg you freak!” The owner of the steel toe shouts. “I’m sick of you bums sleeping out here.” The man with trash bags in his hand informs me. I release his worn down boot, “I’m not sleeping.” “Really seems that way to me.” “I’m hurt. I need help, I think.” “Don’t we all?” The question is sarcastic yet sincere in so many ways. “I’m serious. I’m not sure where I am.” I try to explain from the ground too scared to make the move up. “Right, a shirtless gutter punk like yourself has no idea where he is. Maybe it’s time to lay off the needle buddy.” He puts the two bags of trash in the dumpster next to him. “The needle? Could that have done this to me?” I ask as if I expect a real answer. “Look I don’t care about your problems kid. Leave now or I’ll call the cops before beating your ass,” he finally demands. I get up, slowly at first. I may be confused as who or where I am, but for some reason I know I can take him. I don’t need any more trouble right at this moment. He stands on guard ready for anything as I pass him to get out of the alley onto the streets. I’m dizzy, but I’m stable as I wander down the street and try to remember.

Things seem familiar yet foreign as I walked the neon light filled streets. A cop stops next to me, but offers no assistance only advice, “We wear shirts around here boy.” I ask for help but he only walks off. Confused I wander the night. My chest still in pain, my legs hurt as if they are new, my body mine, but not the one I remember. The cold sets in, the cold that will never leave me as I wonder if I am really what that man said? A druggie? A Punk? “The times they are a changing.” I say out loud to a crowd street even at this hour. I may not know who I am, but deep down I know that this is only the beginning of things to come.

 

Mixing it up. This is the opening pages of my next novel. Still have a whole other book to put out, but who doesn’t like to jump the gun? The hope/plan is to have this book out sometimes next year. So I’m really jumping the gun here. Trying to motivate myself maybe? Unsure and yes I am aware that Undamned is not a word. It works though in the context of the story because… Well why is a secret so wait and see… 

In the mean time I have three other great options to pass the time and you can check them out here on Amazon…

 

 

Oh and apparently today is a holiday so happy holiday. If it isn’t where you live well I hope you have a great day none the less.

3 thoughts on “The Undamned Preview”

  1. I make words up all the time. Often I think mine are better than the ones we already use.

    This is excellent. It’s almost retro, if that makes sense.. like an old soul wrote it
    Or something. I’m trying to say something.

    Gripping though. Truly 😉

    Like

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