Broken Up Thoughts

I can feel them the pins and needles of the world stabbing me from every side, every inch digging into my skin. It is as though I didn’t matter and we all know that I don’t. Nothing really matters yet we can’t leave it alone. Constantly pushing for more for less. We want everything even if there is nothing left to give. My mind regurgitates every thought I have heard. Churning out word after word as if I say it again this time it will matter. Writing is for the weak, simple-minded fucks who think they are better because they are. They aren’t scared to play God because they are Gods across a desperate landscapes. Every thought an action chosen because they choose it. Your life and mine is nothing but a back drop to a thought unfinished, a glimpse into a world not yet written.

 

“I’m pretty sure I have a brain tumor.”
“Oh and how is that?”
“My brain hurts in unusual places, but it’s all the same places.
“Places?” she asks skeptical
“Maybe I’ve got more than one?”

 

“American obesity at it’s finest,” I crack the closer we get. “You wait for it,” he says back. “This here is the greatest club in the city. I.D.’s boys lets see’em,” the bouncer stretches out his hand. We each put our licences in the palm of his hand. I’m skeptical of all of this. “Trust me,” my buddy Steven says nudging me. “This place is worth it.” “You bet your sweet ass it is boys. Welcome to the Big and Nasty. Don’t forget to come up for air,” the door swings open.

 

“Were you abused as a child?”
“As a matter of fact I was.”
“That explains a lot then.”
“Really does it explain a lot? I’d love for you to explain how being struck repeatedly as a child explains so much about me.”
“Are we fucking or what?”
“You got the money?”

This is how it all ends

 

Feels good to finally get these little pieces out somewhere. I have a lot of false starts as I’m sure a lot of us do… Brain tumor is an actual conversation I had with my wife… The Big and Nasty was actually based on a cheese burger at some fast food chain. Though the story wouldn’t have had too much to do with this. The idea was to write a story about some fellas going to a plus sized strip club. Besides the overall idea not having a plot it didn’t go beyond an intro. The plan was for one character to be a dick about the whole thing, another to be obsessed with the place, and a third discovering himself. I guess it kind of had a plot…. 

Looking for more things to read?  Or something for later? Check out these amazing titles now available for the Kindle…. 

 

 

 

Special Broken Up Thoughts (Vulgar)

This is a special Broken Up Thoughts this week. Posting two days earlier because I have an even more special post for Wednesday. Not going to give away what it is, but it is pretty cool and very something different. I hope you check it out.  Ambrose  11/6/17

 

The thunderous stomping of God’s feet surrounds me
Consumes my, my mortal soul
Broken down by treacherous, Broken down by the sin
Her cries ring out across the walls of the tomb
Condemn for believing any of this could be true
Listen for the sound, the sounds of thunder
Breaking away icebergs on the plains
Shifting from one place to the next
Unmovable force from inside my head

 

Working out the reasons that none of this makes sense
Looking for a reason that I feel like shit
Consumed by all your selfish needs

 

“Vulgarity is nothing more than the mind telling the truth.”

 

Wiping your ass with the pages of the bible
Isn’t okay even for an atheist
A broken soul who has lost control
Judas may have had a point but still turned out wrong
Miss information can breed dirty rats
Cunts filled with sickness and death
Vulgar, I’m blatantly aware of my condemnation

 

“Windows 8 ran into some problems. It realized it was Windows 8. Would you like to send a report, so we can make Windows better?”

“Don’t see how this could help any. It seems the “better” you get the worst you get.”

 

Bit of religious randomness with a shitty Windows joke. Why not? I’m scratching my brain to think of something to say…. Have you picked up your copy of A Lie yet? It’s waiting with your name on it… In the mean time take care and good luck…. 

 

Failed TV Pilot….

It’s the day before Halloween rest up and go have some fun… Or read this… up to you…

Episode 1

Scene 1: Takes place in a restaurant. The finer the place looks the better. Two people sitting at the table or booth. One male and one female. There are drinks on the table, but they haven’t gotten their food yet.

Layne
“I guess if I took a long dark look at myself I would have to say it is nothing more than the abyss.”

Female

“So what happens when you don’t have anything to tear you down?”

Layne
In a solemn tone. “I’m never truly happy or content with anything to be honest. ”

Female

“Honesty is a good thing, but how can you say that you are never truly happy. There has to be something in your life that satisfies you in some way.

Layne

“Well of course I’m not a freak or something. I like things it’s just that focusing on them all the time doesn’t help me write when I need it to. I’m easily distracted when it comes to things like that. I mean the time that I was molested as a child is not something I like to talk about, but hey it happens.”

Female
“Okay this just got awkward especially for a first date.” Stress awkward

Layne

“Well I feel like I can be honest and open with you about anything. So sharing my inner secrets really can’t be that bad from the beginning. I realize we barely know each other, but at the same time I really feel like I know you on a deeper level.”

Female

Looks around as if she is lost. “Well that’s a lot to take in. All in one go I mean. It feels like we are moving a little fast or at least you are.” Spots Layne writing things down on his napkin. “Are you seriously writing things down on your napkin?”

Layne

“I’m feeling little taken back from your hint of rejection so when inspiration strikes.

Female

Creeped out. “That’s fine and all but the napkin is cloth. You don’t plan on keeping that do you? Because I’m pretty sure the restaurant wants those back at some point.”

Layne

“They won’t miss it trust me. I worked for a restaurant once. They factor in the cost of everything. Just like hotels and towels. Hey speaking of towels I know this guy who works at the hotel down the street. I’m pretty sure I can get him to lets us use a room for an hour or two. If I’m just being honest we should just finish our drinks and head over there now. We’ll save money in the end even if I tip big on the way out.”

Female

“He’s a bit off, a bit eccentric, but he is a good guy,” my sister said. “What the fuck was I even thinking?”

Layne

“She called me eccentric?”

Female

Gives him a weird look before packing up her stuff.

Layne

“Quick question were you going to go down on me tonight?”

Female

Makes a disgusted face.

Layne

“Got to know?” said with a smile

Female

“Oh my god are you fucking retarded?” Said at a near whisper so the other people can’t hear.

Layne

Wide eyed and waiting.

Female

“I was thinking about.” She grabs her stuff and storms out of the restaurant.

Layne

Sighs and finishes drink, “That was a yes.”

 

Title Sequence
Layne Ambrose in “I’m So Fucked.”

 

Scene 2

Layne and Gwen sitting in a darken theater with the only light lighting their faces coming off of the screen.

Gwen
“So how did that date with my little sis go the other day?”

Layne

Puzzled look. “It went well, but there wasn’t that connection.” Makes an awkward hand motion about connection.

Gwen

Nods her head as if she understands. “You are so full of shit. I still can’t believe you asked her if she was going to go down on you as she was walking out on you.

Layne

Trying to play if off like it was nothing. “She said something about that?”

Gwen

“Half the internet knows about it by now. Heard one kid was so impressed by the story that he is using it for a school project. Should be up by the end of the week.”

Layne

“Anyone we know?”

Gwen

“Sadly not, because I would have volunteered your time to be in it.”

Cuts to scene of two people at a make shift restaurant talking without words. The lady pours herself a drink before throwing it in the man’s face in disgust and walking out. All the same person. Silent Movie Style.

Layne

“You know we could go back to the restaurant and reenact it, but this time I think the girl should walk out with me in the end.”

Layne goes in for a hug and Gwen’s arms get pinned between them.

Layne

Whispers into her ear. “We could go out to the car and you could show me some of your oral skills.”

Gwen

“It’s just too bad your broke ass doesn’t have a car.” She pushes Layne off of her.

Layne

“Behind the building is fine with me.”

Gwen

“Fucking sick. Grow a Vag and then maybe I’ll lust after you enough to be your street whore.”

Layne

“Gross you are like a sister to me anyways. I couldn’t fuck my sister.”

Gwen

“Yet you tried to fuck mine.”

Gwen and Layne

“Aww”…. While pointing at one another

Stranger in the next row up

“Could you please keep it down? I paid good money to see this movie.”

Layne

“Dude relax it’s a Bendis flick everyone dies in the end so don’t even worry about it.”

Gwen

“You paid to see this piece of shit?

Layne

“Way to ruin the illusion of sneaking into a movie Sam.”

The stranger moves to get up.

Layne

“Time to bail.”

Layne and Gwen make towards the exit and run out of the theater.

 

Scene 3

Standing a block away from the theater both characters a breathing heavy while trying to stop laughing. They finally catch their breath and head towards the nearest diner. They walk in and take a seat in a far away booth.

Gwen

“Why do you always call me Sam when we get into those kinds of situations?”

Layne

“Works both ways.”

The waitress appears out of nowhere.

Waitress

“Well you two would make a cute couple. If you could try not to sweat all over the table that would be appreciated. “

Layne

Awkward. “We’ll take two waters to start with.”

Waitress

Under her breath but loud enough to hear. “Of course you will.” The waitress disappears into thin air.

Layne

“I like her already. To answer your question though, Gwen is to unique of a name. Sam however is plain and boring.”

Gwen

“And you questioned why I told my sister you were a little weird. I’m a girl Layne. Sam is a unique name for a girl.”

Layne

“You’re only a girl for one week out of the month. The other three you may as well adjust your nuts like the rest of us boys.”

Waitress

Says in a joking manner.“Having an interesting conversation over her?”

Layne and Gwen give off a slight shiver of awkwardness but both pretend to be amused with smiles.

Waitress

“We decide what we want besides water?”

Gwen and Layne

“Fries”…

Waitress

“Fries? Really, do you want me to buy you something to eat? Why not fuck it right we’re kids we have no money just waste time and sit for hours taking up space.”

Layne

“Whatever it is that you are doing is working right now. I want you to know that.”

Waitress

“Good, what will you be having then?”

Gwen and Layne

“Fries”..

Gwen

“But if you keep bring us water like wine I will make sure he tips you well.”

Layne

“Yeah our young metabolisms only keep working if we digest an emissive amount of shit with an ever flowing amount of water.  Strange I know but if there is one thing I know it is that you don’t fuck with science.”

The waitress huffs her way to the kitchen.

Gwen

In a serious tone.“So lets get down to business.”

Layne

“What do you mean?”

Gwen

“What have you been working on?”

Layne

Mouths the words as she says them.

Gwen

“Very cute, but really what have you been writing about?”

Layne

“Nothing.”

Gwen

“Nothing, you haven’t written anything at all?”

Layne

“Well no I have been writing about nothing.”

Gwen

“Yeah I’m sure you have. Don’t pull this shit on me Layne. Jerry got cancelled before it even got off the ground.”

Layne

Looking disappointed that she stopped his witty retort before he could even make it. “Okay gwen-gwen. What should I be writing about?”

Gwen

Annoyed. “I don’t know. You write and I draw that is how this relationship works.”

Layne

“Strange I always thought it was a P and a V that made this relationship work.”

Gwen

“How many movie and show references are you going to try and make this evening?”

Layne

Shifts in the booth trying to act cool but there is no real way to do that.

Gwen

“Hey, stop being so awkward just because you are being so lazy. Quit your pouting the waitress is coming with the food.”

Waitress

The waitress drops off the food. “You screw me over and I will eat you.”

Gwen and Layne

“Fair enough.”

The waitress stares us down before finally disappearing once again.

Layne

“Pretty sure she is a demon.”

Gwen

“Then it is best that we don’t fuck with her.”

Layne

“I agree. Hey, maybe we can write about her.

Gwen

“Well you better start writing about something before no one gives a shit about us again.”

Cut to shot of the two behind a signing table. Quick images of the stack of comics selling out really fast. Cut to scene of Layne sitting at his desk doing nothing but playing with a pen and note-book.

Narration
“A direct reference to their mildly successful indie comic finished up earlier this year. Layne hasn’t written a single word since that issue hit stands.

Finish up with scenes of them eating fries and laughing. A shot of them paying the bill and leaving a hundred-dollar tip. The waitress smiles and glows in the background as they stand outside discussing something. They hug and each go their own separate ways. We follow Layne as he walks home from the diner. (Layne voice over on the last shot) “The whole walk home all I could think about was how I am so fucked…..”

Yeah That Happened. It Started out as a comic. Might still be a comic. But some of the stuff I have for it is really dated now. Also I can’t draw so that’s a whole thing. I know I’m digging deep at this point. I’ll have better stuff next time. Maybe.. I don’t make promises… I promise….

Scrapping Together A Scrap Book Of Broken Thoughts

The surface is rippled by the stones
we throw at each other
They watch us from their glass homes
watching every movement with cheer
we are nothing more than jesters, a joke
the keys to the kingdom lie far from our hands
as they dangle just over head
we want a revolution, we want change
well good luck, you make a difference
if you just give up.

The people held at different standards
the masses are laughing as we destroy each other
Money moves the world into a tail spin of lost control
They will ride our backs until they can walk again
until they can stand up again and tell us
how proud we should be to be from America

Blood drains from the soul
body goes numb and the brain goes cold
separation between church and state
separation between body and soul
the world is ending and you were all told

At Least I’m dying
So I don’t have to listen
to you

I want to cut my throat
Bathe in my blood
Just to feel how it would be
To be me for once

Drag me through dirt
I drag my cross to my grave
Everywhere I go people throw stones
I am what I can be

I can feel myself as I bleed
I bleed for you and I bleed for me
The weeping angles can’t stop repeating
“God why are you doing this to me?”
It all started, the bleeding that is
When I asked the simple question
“Do you still really believe?”
Lies are truths and truths are lies
What if I told you that nothing was real
That real is only a state of mind

Honesty is the most sincere form of flattery
Honesty is why you’re an asshole

The Devil is an asshole but so are you
The witches were burned because they
Were feared, holy called unholy mistakes
That we teach, no one can tell you how
To live, no one can tell you what to do
But somehow they do

God choose this so you can suffer
A test unlike any other

Lies, lies we tell ourselves to get by
Everyone is standing in their windows
Hoping to get noticed, but every one is too busy
Ignoring the people in their shitty lives
A generation raised on hiding, despising
Falsified documents made to not look like knives
Everyone’s opinion locked away in a data base
What did you do today?
Nothing, the same as always
Who wants to hear the truth, the infliction
What do you mean, the words get twisted
Infections, choose properly or be torn down
Shit upon, drugged around and forgotten
This is the world in which we live our lives
Video graphed disturbances bombarding our every move
Don’t worry someone is always watching
Smile and go about your life

A little bit of everything in this one… Yes… My brain doesn’t stop… Even when I ask it too.. Anxiety much?…. 

Random As Random Can Be

Notes from History Class (This is the class I liked.)

Now I really don’t understand how this really works but I know that I need to be doing something since I am just sitting in class not saying anything or doing anything. I really don’t know why I continue to come to this class but I know I can’t miss another day because I have already hit my limit of miss days. I should be wasting my time typing up my next paper but instead I am talking to myself.

The big picture, we the people only voted for representatives

Basically says all governments all exist at the same time. Checks and balances. Everyone wants to rule the world. Tears for fears mother fucker. Oh yeah weak 80’s references.  Back to solitaire.

He believed that he was there for the good of the people.

This is going to be a long class filled with labor and death thou shall not consume water ever again. The nation was built on the idea of for the people by the people. All comes back to the declaration of independence. Most kings were there because of the divine right of kings.  Its thirteen little babies of death sucking at the tit of mother Russia. Kill kill, kill crew we strive to labor over the death of salvation but we bleed the history we choose to forget. Life can roll, roll right on down the hill, smashing the homes and our own people. Like a revolving wheel that has no purpose or no will.

A diamond ring made of your bone and flesh, pressed down hard beyond the limits of crushing. Hardened into a stone for my bony finger, your luxury is only pain for me, bleeding you, bleeding you dry, bleeding you, bleeding you dry.  Stock market crashes and so does your head, body out of window thrown into the wind, dropping, dropping to the ground, black market fall out, fall out, destruction in your mind, bleeding you, bleeding you, dry, bleeding you, bleeding you dry. I don’t want much just the soul you hold dear and love, I don’t want much just the soul you hold dear and love, there is no need to fear me, I’m the government you did not elect, there is no need to fear me, I’m the government put in place to protect, our own interest, our own interest, bleeding you, bleeding you dry, bleeding you, bleeding you dry. Bottom feeders, it is time to rise, rise, rise, and clam your own lives, rise, rise, bleeding you dry, rise, rise, bleeding you dry, rise, rise

A government that governs less governs best. A government left burning is the one still left turning, the increasing debt, rises at the cost of our own expense, what have you done? Now is your time to speak up, what have you done? Now is your time to speak up, what have you done? National health care is at an all time low, the money lining your pockets is at an all time high, people live in fear, of seeking care, people live in pain, to scared to receive care, what have you done? Now is your time to speak up, what have you done, now is the time to speak up, what have you done? The increasing debt, is being paid for by our blood, the increasing national debt, is being paid for by threat, forced to live in fear, forced to die in tears, what have you done? Now is the time to speak up, what have you done? Now is the time to speak up, what have you done?

Is the law that makes the bank constitutional Maryland or the law of genius falls hard onto the swords of death and frustration yet we bleed only to mop up the floor with our blood.  Southerners are going to follow Jefferson because he is from the south and the south follows anyone like sheep to a heard. Anything in the state of Maryland is going to bank in the state power of vaginal glory. All hail the wicked.

Where does the power lie when it comes to state power and federal power? He says it is in fact conditionals. There is a list in the constitution that gives congress the powers to pay for things. If marshal does not make that design we are back to the article of confederation type of government. Man is going crazy because the class will not speak up.  Will be the supreme law of the land, anytime federal laws conflicted with state laws, federal always wins. John Marshal strengths the federal government.

Each of the four men helped to define the federal government. A puppet government made up of Bert and Ernie dancing around sucking each other off like fascist at a dinner party. Why is the case important then?

We sold our souls for the great American dollar

“Wal-Mart doesn’t care about you”
the government doesn’t care about you
who does care about you?

We are a nation made of bastards and liars
from the time of our origin to now

If you made it this far. This is from my time in college about eight years ago… See health care has been a problem for a while… I’m not going to get all political… Well I might, but the thing that I like about America, among other things,  is this idea that we can say what we want… So I try not to judge when other people or I say stupid shit… We all do even after eight years and a filter… It happens.. Words are words.. It is by our actions that we should be judged… Of course this never happens… 

Drinking Bleach Preview

Drinking Bleach is my first collection of short stories from my earlier days. It is a mixed genre book filled with short stories, poems, micro stories, and more. From the early days of Chewing On Glass to the first story I ever wrote. This book covers a lot of ground. As always available on Kindle. Don’t have a Kindle? That’s okay. Enjoy thousands of books right from your desktop, smart phone, or tablet with the Kindle app.

Adult language and ideas through out.

Purgatory Part 1

“The blood leaks from the holes in my chest. My white shirt fills with red, a stain I will never forget, as the bloody shirt clings to my chest. I can remember trying to raise my head up. I can remember trying to understand what is happening to me, but it is as though my body can’t function. Trapped, I feel trapped, and I feel cold. I feel so many things at once. Yet all I can do is watch as even more blood comes from my chest. Then everything goes blank. The thinking stops. The trying stops. Everything stops and the next thing I know I’m sitting in a room full of strangers to be what I guess is sorted. I’m confused and now I am here where ever here is, is where I am. I don’t understand why I am here. Why am I here?”

“Let me just start by saying that was some really good sharing James, and to answer your question. We are all here to work out our issues so we can pass to the other side.” The hooded figure continue to tell me something about this place and why I am here, but it is all too much. This is all too confusing to process in one go. Am I alive or am I dead? Is there anything such as death if I am here? I interrupt the figure, “Pass on where? Where am I passing onto? So I am dead?” The voice continues to talk from under the hood never showing its face or any emotion, “Yes James you are dead. We all are in this room and I can understand that, that may be hard for you to take in all at once, but I encourage you to ask any questions you might have. As far as passing on I really have no defiant answer to that question. I don’t have a say on whether you go to heaven or hell. I am only here to help you move on to either one.” The woman to my left who is probably more in line with being a girl interrupts the figure, “There’s no such thing as passing on to either one. We already died. This is all there is left. You just make us come here to this room and talk out our feelings so we can’t revolt and take over or some shit.” She gets absurdly angry and throws the chair she was sitting on at the wall behind her. “This is all just bull shit. Either that or you suck at your job. Which one is it?” She continues to rave at the figure without a face. The hooded figure never shows any sign of emotion as he talks to her, “Sylvia please calm down, you of all people should know that this is not helping you to pass on.” “Pass on? How the fuck long have I been here? Years, months, forever and I have never seen anyone pass on once. We just keep coming here and coming here.” “Sylvia there is no such thing as time. We have been over this before. It takes as long as it will take,” the figure says calmly. “Because there is no passing on you faceless fucking asshole. This is hell. This is fucking purgatory,” she screams at the figure. “That’s right,” a man sitting to the left on the figure says. “You are right this is purgatory, but this is not hell,” he nods his head in a matter of fact kind of way. “This is purgatory? I’m in purgatory. What the hell is going on? I’m supposed to be in class tomorrow. At least I think I am,” I interject. “Oh my god, yes you dumb ass. I already hate the new guy. What have you been here for like ten minutes and you haven’t realized you’re dead? You have three holes in your chest Brian. What did you pull the trunk and nothing happened?” Sylvia screams at me. “That is enough Sylvia. James has recently died and this is all new to him. In fact this is enough for now. Let’s all go to the waiting room and meet back here later,” the hooded figure doesn’t wait for a response as he opens the door. “Fine with me,” Sylvia is the first one to storm out of the room. She doesn’t look like she could be more than nineteen or could have been nineteen seems to be more appropriate. The next one to leave the room is a slightly overweight man dressed in a business suit. He tries to shake the hand of the hooded figure, but he politely declines. The man smiles none the less and wish the figure a good day as he exits the room. I still haven’t left my seat as the rest of them shuffle out of the room without a fuss. I can’t stop staring at my chest. My blood is still there on my shirt a stain that seems like it will never come off. “James you have to leave now. I know that this must be hard to take in, but it will get better the more you come here.” I stare at the hooded figure for a few seconds before nodding my head. I still have one more question as I walk out of the room. “How will I know to come back?” “I will page you,” the hooded figure closes the door without another word.

What is time when you are dead? There is no sense of it in this place. There is only waiting and it feels like forever. There’s no place to go, nothing to see, nothing at all. All there is, is a waiting room filled with chairs not the kind of chairs that are soft, warm, and inviting. More like those hard plastic my ass is going to hurt for days on end kind of chairs. The ones with the four bolts on the back and four bolts on the seat that are always dark blue. Even though I don’t feel pain I feel as if I do. Besides these shitty chairs there are the other people. No one is really talking to one another though. The ones that are talking seem less scared than the rest of us. We were all either taught that this place is for sinners or that to end up here was a bad thing. Some of us might not even have a clue as to what this place is. But here we all are good or bad we are all trapped in the middle, waiting. Every minute? Every now and then I guess there always seems to be someone new in the room. The room, Christ this room is larger than any waiting area I have ever been. It could hardly be called a room more like a lobby. Though there has to be more than one of these down here? Because there is no way that this is all the dead people. The size and scope of this place only adds to the crazy fact that it is nearly silent. I start tapping my foot which only seems to upset those around me. Scanning the room once again for anyone I might recognize I spot Sylvia. She sits on the opposite side of the room from me all alone. She is rubbing her wrist staring at the gashes. Her writs are stained with blood and each gash looks fresh. I didn’t notice them before probably because the cuts and the blood stains almost look like makeup more than flesh wounds. This all becomes more and more real. This isn’t a dream and not a nightmare this is my life now. The figure said it wasn’t permanent, but it feels more and more so the longer I stare at her. How long has she been here? How long will I have to be here? Even from this distance I can see the insides of her arms as she displays them out in front of her. She looks up and we lock eyes. Only for a second too scared she will go off again I stare at the floor. BY the time that I look up again she has moved out of my view. I search the room for her from my seat. I guess we all are having a hard time with this. I know I am having a hard time with all of this. It is like being in the most boring place in the world or being drunk with nothing to do. My mind tries to process new things or new thoughts but it can’t because I can’t stop thinking about my death. If I don’t try really hard to focus or think about something else my mind automatically goes back to thinking about the holes in my chest. I don’t want to think about that anymore. I want to understand where I am. All of this is very frustrating and makes being here even more horrible than it already is. I don’t see her so I stop looking.

Every now and then someone new comes in and it makes me feel that much more alone. Sometimes the new people are really messed up. Earlier a guy came in with a piece of glass stuck through his skull. His face was covered in blood. He looked like he could have been the singer for a death metal band or the winner for best costume at a Halloween party. Another guy was dressed in a uniform and I couldn’t tell which one because of all the burn damage to his body. If I could cry I would have for cried for him. His body looked like it had been hit by an explosive at close range. Part of his face was completely ripped back away from his skull. A flap of skin bouncing as he walked, as he turned his head, as he moved. His left arm was completely gone. Nothing left but a bloody stump made up of bone and burnt flesh. Most of his uniform was charred black like most of the still attached skin. We are all dead but most of us don’t look like a walking corpse. I felt bad for him. Even more so as I watched him try to cry but we can’t. We don’t cry and we don’t bleed. He didn’t deserve whatever it is that happened to him no matter what side of the fight he was on. No one deserves to die that way. No one should have to sit here with the rest of us looking like that, feeling like that. The more grotesque your death means no one wants to sit next to you in this room. Somethings never change even in death. The solider sits alone in the far corner of the room. There are a lot of empty chairs for the size of the room. Reserved for in case of a catastrophe maybe. Despite all the horror that covers most of us the room is extremely clean like in a hospital. This room is empty besides us and the chairs there is nothing in this room. No windows, no one to ask how much longer, no one to ask if we can leave, no doors to leave from, and nothing on the walls. I mean how many great artist have died since the dawn of time? They couldn’t get one to draw something on the walls? The room is next to silent unless a voice calls out names and what room to report to. The voice sounds very much if not exactly like the hooded figures voice, very calm and airy. I don’t believe it is the same hooded figure as the one I have met because there is more than one room being called out, but after what I have seen in my time of waiting anything is possible. I hear my name in the familiar voice and it tells me to report to room forty-six. I don’t get up right away, but when I hear Sylvia’s name get called I stand up and search for her. Turns out she had been sitting a few rows back behind me. I quickly shuffle off to meet her at the hallway entrance. I follow right behind her down the long and only hall way here. The hall way seems like it goes on forever. It is nothing more than a long tunnel with rooms on either side. Despite the fact the hall way is very well lit I can’t see the end. The end is filled with darkness and as we keep moving down the hall the darkness stays the same. It doesn’t take long until we arrive to our assigned room. The door is already open when we get there. The hooded figure is waiting by the door identical to how it was when we left. Its voice is the same as it welcomes us back as we enter the room and take our seats.

I pay more attention to the room this time around, but it is just as blank and bare as the waiting room. There are no windows in here as well only more of those damn chairs. There are only ten chairs in this room but I heard six names called along with mine. I am in the same seat that I was in last time I came here and so has Sylvia. The business man has taken a seat two chairs to my right and a thin woman who looks like she was in her forties takes the seat next to me. The thin lady is wearing a flower house dress with a massive blood stain in the back. It looks as though a knife was dug into her back. It is hard to make out all the cuts because of how much the dress sticks to her back from the blood. She sees me staring at her wounds and sits so her back is completely against the seat of the chair. Embarrassed I look away. A man in his twenty’s occupies a seat across from me closer to Sylvia. He looks to have died in a similar fashion as me. The front of his body is littered with bullet holes only unlike me he was wearing black on the day that he died. Had I known maybe I would have too. But what would I really wear on the day that I knew I was going to die? What would I have even done? Clothing is so strange here it is almost like it is part of us. We can’t take it them off or clean them or even move them. Though I did see someone who was wearing a jacket and they were able to take their arms out of the sleeves, but that was about it. Otherwise we have to sit in what we wore on the day we died and it makes me wonder if the bullets are still in me? Did someone take them out? Then I remember the man with the piece of glass stuck in his head. I looked to my chest and get lost once again in the reality of it all. “We are waiting for one more,” the voice informs us from the door. Out of the darkness of the hall a young woman walks into the room. The door like a granite slab slams closed behind her. At first she doesn’t know where to sit, but she take a seat next to me on my right. Despite the large gashes on her throat she is very beautiful and looks as though she could have been an actress or a model, and maybe she was. I never paid that much attention to things like that. Never really paid attention to anyone really. “Hello everyone, how are we feeling?” The figure asks us as it takes a seat at the head of the circle. Everyone lets out a strange noise in replace of a greeting before the figure starts to talk again, “As always I would like to start the meeting off with any questions any of you might have?” “Yeah when the fuck am I getting out of this shit hole?” Sylvia asks. “Language Sylvia, I see you are going to start up early with questions you already know the answers to, and you know when you are ready you can pass over.” “How will we know when we are ready?” I ask. “That’s difficult to say James. The goal here is to answer any questions, concerns, or conflicts you still have inside of you. In order to pass over any of those issues need to be resolved, so that you can enter with a clean conscious.” “How are we supposed to do that? I don’t get it,” I tell the figure. “I’m glad you asked. You and everyone here can achieve this goal by sharing with us your thoughts and feelings.” “That simple?” I ask. “That simple,” the figure answers back. “Okay, why am I here? That’s the only question I have.” “No it’s not James and you know that even if you don’t think you do. The idea is to look deep inside yourself. The process is never easy and it can take many visits,” the figure explains. “So you mean I could be here forever in a sense?” I ask scared and even more confused. “This is all bullshit that is all you need to know,” Sylvia blurt out. “Sylvia please some of us are actually trying to move on here,” the older woman in the flowery dress finally speaks up. “Very positive,” the figure reassures her. “Oh my god, Elizabeth you need to shut up. You don’t even think you are dead for fucks sake.” “That’s because I’m not dear and how many more times do I have to tell you to call me Beth?” “I don’t know maybe a couple more times Elizabeth.” “You know what you are young lady?” Elizabeth raises her voice in anger. “You are a snot nose little brat. That is what you are.” “Ladies please this is not helping,” the figure attempts to interject. “Well you’re a bitch Elizabeth and that’s probably why your husband stabbed you as many times as he did,” Sylvia fires right back. “Yeah well at least I didn’t have to kill myself to get some attention. How does it make you feel knowing it was all for nothing?” The beautiful girl begins to weep without tears. “That’s not why I killed myself you old whore. I killed myself because I was done with life and I was ready to move on.” “Oh whatever, you are such a little drama queen Sylvia. I am truly amazed that you were starved for attention.” “Ladies please stop this now, you are upsetting Karen.” “Karen is always upset,” they say in unison. Holy shit welcome to meeting number two it is no wonder that it takes so long to pass over. After that final outburst both Sylvia and Elizabeth refrain from saying or even looking at one another. The figure however continued, “Are you okay Karen?” “I’m fine,” is all she is able to whimper out after a moment of silence. Her voice is amazingly soft and quiet and I wonder if this is from her death or if that is her natural voice. “Do you feel like sharing today?” She shakes her head no and the voice moves on. The hooded figure never pushes any of us into talking. It simply asks a question and we have to decide how or if we answer. Sometimes the figure feels almost human with its soft calming voice. I wonder if it once was or is something else entirely.

Thank you for reading. Full story available now.

https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Layne+ambrose

 

Getting Harder to Breathe

I spent a life time not on social media. Recently I joined up and now I am behind once again. The world keeps spinning, dredging up old wounds. Starting over can be the hardest part. A lot of us get lost in the darkness forgetting who we are or what we stand for. Mass media has long been the standard for the writer. The credible source. I used to joke, play around, and dream of a world of miss information. Then I grew up, then it actually happened. It wasn’t what I had hoped for. It wasn’t what it seemed like it would be.

The fake news, the real news they try to replace each other. Switch their roles. This isn’t the first time in our history or any body’s history. We went to war over miss information. Sadly it won’t be the last except this time could very well be the last time. Things have changed since the USS Maine wasn’t attacked by Spain. Information is power and without it we are all weak. Without reliable information and a wave of mass information I find myself being turned off by it all. Isolating myself as everyone else is or is slowly doing. Wait for the history books to be written just so I can know what I lived through. Has it always been like this?

I like to think that it hasn’t until I read old books from the past discussing topics of today. I don’t mean science fiction or future utopias with flying cars. What I mean is topics about abortion, immigration, security, and others. Topics that have never changed or even given a chance to change. Stuck in the same place for over a hundred or more years. Some of these problems have been problems so long it is amazing they are still problems. Example? Imagine you never learned to use a toilet. Imagine you have been shitting and pissing on yourself since the moment you were born. Do you believe that doing it at eighty is really a problem? No, it is normal. Imagine how much better your life could have been if you had tried to learn. Even after you moved out of the comfort of your parents’ home. Maybe they had different views or concerns about shitting your pants. That’s okay every parents different, but there comes a time you must decide for yourself what you believe. A time when you enter society and realize we don’t all piss right then and there. We follow order and rule. For better or worse we make rules to avoid the chaos of it all. They don’t always work. Sometimes things have to be changed or given a chance. No one society is perfect or believes the same exact things. We hold many similar views, but many of those have evolved over time. The issues of the past need to stop bleeding out our future.

A hundred years ago they didn’t have to worry about global warming. It wasn’t a thing. Well it was maybe depending on what you believed caused it, but the point is now we do have to worry about it. Life evolves is what I am getting at and living with your head in the ground isn’t going to help any. We need to stop avoiding the problem and move on from them. You may not believe global warming exist. Okay fine by me no judgement here, but when you get a moment go into your garage. Don’t bother opening the door, and turn your car on.

Whether you believe global warming exist or doesn’t you wouldn’t do what I just said to do. No one is that stupid. Same concept but on a global scale. Maybe if we all cut back on emissions the world will still get hotter. Who the fuck knows, but at the very least the air gets cleaner, the trees come back stronger, and best of all we leave a world for our asshole children to destroy isn’t that the real goal in life? We fight things that don’t need to be fought only to let the things that should be fought for pass us by. I’m not saying you are stupid or wrong all I am saying is let’s move past these trivial things.

Tune in next week when I discuss abortion in a series I like to call Alienating Myself From Myself. If you get offended very easily you are going to love this shit.