Because Asking Would Be Too Off Putting

Diving right into the subject on this one. I’m sure I’ll dip in and out of anything I have to say. Thought about all of this six hours ago. My favorite book of all time is Post Office by Charles Bukowski. If you haven’t read it well. Well you should have by now. Bukowski is something else. Amazon has labels, the library has a section, but to me Bukowski is life. With that said is Post Office the greatest book ever written? Probably not. Could careless if anyone or no one else likes it.

The thing about Post Office that I love so much is this feeling. This feeling that life will never get better. This feeling that life is a trap. This feeling that you will always be stuck doing the same thing forever. I struggle with these issues on a daily basis as I’m sure most of us do. This doesn’t go away as we get older. But in a sense you have to settle. I hate to use that word and by definition what I’m about to say would go against that word. You get a fucking Treasures I’m writing here.

Point is that in life not everything is perfect all the time. Not every aspect of your life is what you dreamed it would be. One realizes with time that the only power they have is to choose which aspects of their lives to focus on. You can only spin so many fucking plates until it all comes crashing down.

I work hard at my job. Ask any of them and I’m awesome or whatever, but that place could burn down tomorrow. I’d be more pissed that I now have to find another job I don’t care about then anything to do with that place.  I settled for my job. Oh well could give a fuck. I need money for things I actually care about.

I didn’t settle on my family or the time that I spend with them. I don’t settle on my writing. Maybe after draft eighteen, but most of the time I don’t. These are things that I can make perfect. Things that I can care about. Things that make me happy. Yes I have that emotion somewhere deep down in there. Things I won’t settle for.

Post Office didn’t teach me any of this. What Post Office did was made me realize I was trapped. That I was lost. That I was going to get stuck. Post Office made me think and that is why books are important. I saw the parallels that I was living to the main character, and I knew that, that was not what I wanted. I knew I didn’t want to just get by in this life. I had a goal and I needed to do more than hope. I needed to do more than let the waves drag me under. Fuck what happens. That is what Post Office left me with. This feeling that what was going to happen was going to happen anyways. Might as well fuck with it until it does. We get one life. Take a chance.

“In the morning it was morning and I was still alive. Maybe I’ll write a novel, I thought. And then I did.”

Charles Bukowski, Post Office

Chili Cinema And What We Are Doing

Land Of The Dead

Chewed on this for a bit too long, but this Saturday… Tomorrow… Little Fears, Weird Shit with Alex, I… Will be watching George A Romero’s Land of the Dead…  Thought you’d all like to know that…Oh and we will be live tweeting as we do it.. 

Starting at 9pm London (4pm U.S.) time… So check us out on Twitter… and or join us as we talk about our hopes and feelings…. The dreams that came and went…. Maybe a thing or two about blood and zombies… Honestly I’m not sure… Half the time I don’t even know what I am doing any more in this lost landscape of time… Okay I am being told to wrap it up… Now is not the time to get existential.. But tomorrow?.. Who knows…

We will be using a Service called Chili Cinema… You can rent or buy all kinds of movies… Check it out here… https://uk.chili.com/

Twitter Handles
Follow Weird Shit with Alex @SynBoomstick
Follow Little Fears @TheLittleFears 

Blog Handles? (What is this Hackers?)
Check out Little Fears: https://littlefears.co.uk/
Check Out Weird Shit With Alex: https://weirdshitwithalex.blog/

I thought about making every other word Bold just to fuck with you… So you are welcome… Also Girls Trip was available?? and we went with zombies?? Next time I’m picking the movie…

 

Broken Thoughts

I want to change the world, but I know it won’t matter. The wheel turns with or without me. The sands of time keep falling one by one whether I care to notice at all. I can’t take much more of this. This world’s retribution is too much to bare. A constant dragging of my body across a bed of nails. My flesh tears apart, but yet somehow stays attached. The bones of my broken body mended together with lies and dreams. My blood is all but gone. My heart still beats. Beats to the rhythm of my death. Slow, painful, and everlasting.

We add only to take away
If I take away all that I have become
Would I only be adding to what I’ve done
Taken away from what I become
An empty shell, Hollowed out heart
A lie from the start
Accept my apologies
I knew not what I have done
Only that it would destroy you
Extinguish this thoughtless idea
Sincerely everything I wish

How soon is too soon to know this is an ever passing moment? These feelings won’t last and then I’ll be left with nothing much. Regret and sadness mostly. Sit and smile. Pretend not to suffer ninety-five percent of the day. This is life. This is how most of us live. Wish I could drink the feeling away like everyone else. Like my heroes, but it does nothing for me. Magnifies my problems, my issues in such a way that it makes me feel even worse than before. Maybe I’m not trying hard enough. Could be my problem all along. How hard should we be trying to live?

I want to dance in the darkness of me and you
Our shadows create a cryptic sense of self
Our shadows in the moon light
Our shadows, strangling each other tonight
Ideas of love twisted with each passing moment
Your final breathes
Mean more with everything left unsaid

And Other Things From This Time Preview

Long Before

The blood it drips as it falls
The life fails as it goes on
The end is near
Though it has been all along
The difference between life and death
Is a heartbeat
The soul fades as it goes
The death grows as it goes
The end is near
Though it has been all along
The difference between life and death
Is a heartbeat
The difference between life and death
Is a heartbeat
A heartbeat that no longer seems to feel
Destroy the will and what became left
Soulless but who really knows before it is too late
The difference between life and death
Is nothing more than a heartbeat
The difference between me and you
Is nothing more than a heartbeat
The loneliness, the sadness, the happiness
Is nothing more than a heartbeat away
The heartbeats from within my chest
The life flows from out my wrist
The end is near but it was there long before

 

List of Words

Some, days, I, just, wish, the, world, would, die, an, all, this, pain, could, go, away, I, dream, in, blood, I, dream, in, liquid, secretly, watching, the, human, race, disappear, discretely, having, a, hand, in, every, death, easily, amused, toxically, confused, I, always, assumed, everyone, felt, like, me, with, a, gun, to, my, head, in, the, middle, of, times, square, not, important, unless, your, famous, each, life, started, the, same, just, some, are, worth, more, in, the, end, listen, to, me, I, sound, like, a, commi, how, un-American, how, un-human, starving, for, attention, dying, for, just, a, mention, of, my, existence, easily, amused, toxically, confused, easily, amused, some, days, I, just, wish, the, world, would, die, and, I, could, assist, lighter, and, can, of, gasoline, in, hand, I, want, to, watch, this, world, burn, watch, the, survivors, crawl, through, the, ash, and, fuck, it, up, once, again, again, again, we, are, the, cockroaches, of, the, universe, universally, fucked,  begging, for, god, begging, for, any, thing, prayers, un-answered, beings, being, slaughtered, starving, surviving, dying, this, is, the world, you, live, in,  I, will, just, keep, taking, my, pills, cause, you’re, to, easily, amused.

 

Hello once again. Two more poems from my book And Other Things From This Time. Not the happiest pair of poems, but equally showcasing the two sides of depression.  List of Words is actually originally from Drinking Bleach and is one of the first things I wrote for that book. It is older and there for I am older since I wrote it. Assuming I aged at all or grew up since then. You can be the judge, but as much as I enjoy the nostalgia of it…. The world is in a very different place than it was when I wrote it. A sadder place I would have to say. Violence is never the answer, but I whole heartily believe there is a difference between venting frustration and acting it out. Anger, rage, and hurt are all normal emotions. Like all emotions good or bad they fade….What I’m trying to say is that now that I am older it reads very differently than when I wrote it. Writing to me is very therapeutic. It frees up thoughts or feelings that I have to make room for positive ones… I debated whether to include it, but I think that it is good, interesting, and different. Even if it isn’t true or a positive way to go about feelings such as anger, rage, or hurt. 

I’m saying  all of this not because I feel guilty, but in many ways writing is very unique. There are few mediums of expression where you can be in a person’s head. Even if it is only for a second or a moment. Was I angry when I wrote the piece? Yes. Can I remember why I was? Not for all the money in the world, but I was… And I think that is something we can all relate too on some level. Which is also how I feel about Long Before. The difference between everything is a heartbeat so, keep your heart beating and all will work itself out. 

 

Isolation Part 2

Chapter 3

Steve sits at the table in the second chamber eating oatmeal he made himself. Vector sits at the other end of the table completely still. “How much longer,” Steve asks Vector between bites? “Two more hours until communication is back on.” “What if something killed who ever sent that part and we are just sitting here waiting to die?” “Highly unlikely Steve, Sector 156 has never been inhabited till 2120 when the first prisoners were brought here to make the ten cells for mining and prison purposes.” “What if something does live here and the mining has just started to affect them?” “Not likely Steve Sector 156 has an average temperature of 450 degrees year round except on two days of the year” “Supply days yeah I know, but I’ve lived here no problem for three years. So maybe whatever lives here or could live here is also living underground.” “Impossible,” Vector says before being interrupted. “Nothing is impossible Vector. “There is no life on this planet other than what was put here.” “I hit a nerve there good buddy?” “I have no nerves Steve only circuits.” “We’re not alone on this planet. I’d put money on it that, that is what got who ever sent that part.” “What is money Steve?” “Never mind,” Steve says with a yawn. “Maybe you should go back to sleep Steve. I can wake you once communication comes back on-line.” “I’m okay Vector. I think I will take a shower and change though.” “Remember the water is coming to an end so there won’t be much.” “Thank you Vector,” Steve says as he gets out of his chair.

Steve walks into the first chamber and slides a cover on the wall to reveal his cloths. He chooses the usual black he was assigned when he first arrived. Steve takes the picture from his back pocket and places it next to the clean clothes on the bed. He undresses and moves another cover to reveal a built-in shower. Steve steps into the claustrophobic washing chamber and turns the water on high. The warm water feels good on his face he thinks as he holds his face in the warm water. With no warning or announcement the water shuts off. “Seriously,” Steve says out loud. He taps the water button again, but nothing comes out. Steve presses the dry button and warm air is shot from all around him. He opens the door and steps into the bedding chamber. As Steve dresses he begins to hear the sound of scratching from the wall at the end of the small chamber. “Vector what are you doing in there?” From the other chamber Vector says, “Cleaning up the mess in here.” The scratching grows louder as Steve quickly straps up his boots. Steve throws on his shirt and puts his picture back into his back pocket. He walks over to the far wall and places his ear up against the cold steel. Steve can hear the sounds of heavy breathing as the scratching continues. “What the fuck,” he says out loud to himself. Steve backs away at the nick of time as the metal wall breaks slightly to reveal a hand full of claws. A blast of heat comes into the chamber as the hole grows bigger. Steve wastes no time as he runs into the next chamber. He presses the chamber shut off button as he enters the next chamber. “Vector get into the work shop now.” Vector raises his head to ask a question as the beast in the next chamber slams its massive body against the chamber door.  Vector rolls into the next chamber as Steve follows right behind him. Steve presses the chamber shut off button as he makes his way into the workshop. He rests his back against the closed-door and slowly slides down until he is sitting on the ground. “There’s no way something else lives on this planet Steve. It’s impossible,” he mocks as he breathes in deep.

 

Chapter 4

“Vector how long can the chamber doors hold back whatever is behind them?” “Data unknown too many factors to determine such an outcome.” “Is communication still down?” “For the next hour at least,” Vector informs Steve. There is constant pounding that comes from the next chamber as Steve gets up and walks over to Vector. He inspects Vector’s Casing looking for anything that can be used for defense. “Steve what are you doing,” Vector asks? “I’m trying to see if there is anything on you that we can use as a weapon. Do you have a defensive system at all?” “No I was built to assist not destroy.” “Great I’m stuck with a giant paper weight in a fight for my life.” Steve walks over to his work bench and starts to take out any tools he can use to carve out metal with. “Vector I need a piece of your casing.” “What for Steve,” Vector questions as he turns his body to face Steve? “I need to send a message to the other sections.” “Bi law 24,” Vector starts to rattle off. “I know what the code and the rule is Vector, but I need to warn them.” “I can’t let you Steve it is against the rules.” “I was afraid you would say that,” Steve picks up the metal pipe from the side of his work bench. “Steve what are you doing with that?” “What I have too,” he says as he brings the pipe down hard on Vector. The pipe hits its mark on the lower back of Vector’s casing taking out his ability to move. Vector tries to stop the second swing but his arm misses the pipe as it lands hard into its upper back. Vector is now unable to use his arms. “They really made a design flaw when they made your components too much like a humans.” Vector turns his head to face Steve, “You didn’t have to do this Steve.” Aloud crash interrupts Steve as the creature breaks throw into the second chamber. “Time is running out Vector can you still send and receive communications?” “Yes I still can and there is still no window.” Steve grabs a tool off the work bench and starts to ply off a piece of Vectors casing. He is able to disassemble a large enough piece from Vector’s lower back. Steve then takes the piece to his work bench to engrave his own message. “What are you going to do with that piece?” “I’m going to write a message and then send it to Section A. They should be within communications by now if they aren’t already dead.” Sparks flay as Steve begins to cut in to the casing. He spells out each word as he cuts them carefully into Vector’s casing. It doesn’t take him long to engrave the case and he places the finished piece into the transfer tube. What if they are dead Steve,” Vector asks as Steve presses the send button. “Then we are also dead.”

The creature finally finds the door between chamber two and chamber three. It pound on the door with all of its might causing the wall to shake with every hit. Steve takes the picture out of his back pocket and stares into the eyes of the woman on it. “What is that,” Vector asks? “My wife and child,” Steve says quietly. “You have a wife and child?” “I had one yes. They didn’t tell you why I was here?” “Headquarters informed that you were here for accidental murder, but not the cause for such an action.” “That is why I am here, but it is much more complicated than that.” Steve’s eyes begin to tear up as he rubs his thumb down the side of his wife’s face. “I am here because I killed the murderer of my wife and child. It was ruled an accident, but I didn’t kill him on accident. I wanted him dead and that’s why I am still here. That is why I can never leave because I deserve to be here.” “He killed your wife and child Steve human emotions and laws dictate that your course of action is justified under accidental. You were not yourself when you committed the act of murder.” “What difference does it make? I’m going to die here anyways.” “Cut,” the director shouts from the front of the set. “Johnny, Johnny listen to me the tears need to be real and I need more than just two. Your upset over the death of you wife and child.” “Dan it’s a direct to DVD movie. Who gives a fuck if the crying doesn’t feel real? I mean I’m on a planet called Sector, What the fucks the number?” “156,” the line reader calls out to the actor. “Right, I’m on planet Sector 156 being chased by a hairy beast underground, and all of this is because the surface temperature is 451 degrees. Come on who wrote this shit? Ray Bradbury should sue. Look I know I said I would do the project, but this is really not working.” The actor gets up and starts to walk off the set. “Someone get me my agent. I don’t care if my careers in the crapper I’m not doing any more of these shitty movies. The government can have my fucking money.” “Johnny come back,” the director calls out to the actor. “God damn it I knew I should have gone with an unknown.”

People Of The Sun

“I was there the day that the sun came out in the middle of the night.” An old man lies in a bed made of blankets. His white hair matted to the sides of his head from all the days he has spent in this bed.  His granddaughter sits on the floor next to his bed listening to every word the old man has to say. Her name is Anna and she likes to hear stories. Especially the ones her grandfather likes to tell. The old man’s beard flaps with every word he says in the way that is only entertaining to a child. “I was with my family and we were driving back from my grandparent’s house when it happened.” The little girl fidgets as if she has a question, but she is old enough to know that now is not the time for questions.  “It was so dark that night that my father could barely see anything even with the headlights on. We lived in upstate New York at that time and no matter what the time of year you always had to be cautious of deer. They would jump out in front of the cars if they were afraid or they felt it was their turn to cross the road. So, my father had my mother and I on deer watch and if we saw a deer we were supposed to shout out where it is that we saw them. My little sister Sylvia loved to deer watch, but she was much too young to be any good at it. Your mother is named after my little sister. I don’t know if you knew that or not?” The little girl nodes her head no and stares at her grandfather with the same eyes that once belonged to his wife. He fights back his sadness. The little girl came to hear a story not watch her grandfather cry. He was always really good at fighting back his emotions and being the rock in the middle of an ocean.

“Well anyways there we were driving on the old country roads heading home looking for deer when I saw it. At first the sky just looked as if there were a million lightning bugs trapped in the clouds. It wasn’t bright right away like some might expect it was more like if someone had just dimmed the lights a little bit in a room. The darkness of the night started to disappear and it was no longer hard to see the forest around us. The forest was covered in snow and it began to catch the light of the sun. My father, my family was in awe of what we were seeing. He decided to pull over just as we began to pass a small little farm. No one had ever seen anything like what we saw that night. No one had ever seen the sun rise when it shouldn’t have. We had heard stories of places in Alaska where there was sunlight all day long, but sunlight in New York at night? Never had such a thing been seen. Even if it only appeared to be that way it was too much for us all. My mother unhooked my little sister from her car seat as my father pulled over. By then the sun had looked to only just peeked over the horizon and was nothing more than a sliver of warmth in the coldest winter New York had seen in years. The warmth felt so good against the skin of my face and hand and that is when we realized we weren’t the only thing feeling the warmth. The snow began to melt all around us mountains of snow disappearing as if they were trapped in July. The light kept getting closer and closer, little by little, and as it did it got just a little bit warmer. Before we even realized it the temperature had raised forty degrees in only a matter of seconds and it showed no signs of slowing down.

In fear my father ordered us to get back in the car. My mom said no if it is the bomb than we are as good as dead in that metal car. Time was running out in my mother’s eyes if this was truly the bomb she had imagined then we didn’t have minutes, but seconds to find something to shield are selves.  I don’t know how she saw it, but she did. My mother spotted a water run off not even twenty yards from where we stood. It wasn’t a big run off one might see in a city. It looked barely big enough for one us to get in, but it was our only chance she said. She told me to run for it. Don’t look back just run and when you get there crawl as deep in as you can, you got it? She kissed my forehead and away I went. You can’t tell from how I look right now, but I was fast. Fast like the wind they use to say. Running was in my blood and it’s in yours as well. I went as fast as my legs could take me. The heat by now had gotten to nearly a hundred degrees and felt even hotter in a winter jacket so I threw it on the ground and kept going.

Twenty yards is only sixty feet, but in a hundred degree heat and climbing it was the longest sixty feet of my life.  Just before I made it to the underground run off I saw the ground and as my feet were moving I watched it turn from green to brown. The temperature had gotten so hot so fast the grass began to turn to mud even as I ran to save my life. The sun was about half way up when I made it into the little tunnel. There was still a little bit of water left in the tunnel from the melted snow as I forced my way through the dark tunnel. I didn’t know how far deep I should go in and I had no clue just how deep I did go in. I just did as my mother had said until I could no longer move. The tunnel was just barely big enough for me to fit into and there was barely any room to breathe. It felt more like a tomb than a safe haven from the sun. I couldn’t hear anything from inside the tunnel except for a strange crackling noise of a wood inside a fire-place. It was at this time that I begin to be very scared. I cried out for my mom, for my father, for Sylvia, but no one and nothing called back to me. I begin to cry inside my tomb and to worry that this is where my life would end. The heat from outside the tunnel had finally reached inside and I began to sweat. The heat was so hot it felt as if I had put my face into a fire and it wasn’t long after that, that I passed out from the heat.

I woke up in the tunnel hours later, but felt like days. Like I said I couldn’t turn around inside my little tunnel. Afraid that I would be stuck here forever I tried to move backwards. I was met with resistance at first, but little by little I found myself moving. It took everything I had left to work my way out of the tunnel or so I thought. Once out of the tunnel I quickly realized it was going to take a lot more of me to survive than to get out of the tunnel. As my feet touched the ground I pushed one last time from inside the tunnel. I fell to the ground and just laid there inhaling the dust and ashes that would now make up our world. I was so tired I just laid there and I felt like laying there forever. Then it hit me all at once like a ton of bricks falling from outer space. Everything and everyone I loved was now gone. My family, my friends, my home, my school, everything I knew was gone only to be replaced with strangers and a strange land. Tears began to stream from my face causing the ash and dirt all around my face to turn to mud. Mud I wouldn’t wipe away for days, for weeks even. I was only fifteen when the sun attacked in the middle of the night and I was only a child, but the next day I was expected to be a man.

I lay in the dirt for a long time. I didn’t know what to do or where to go. Hours after my rebirth from my tomb I finally got up to look around. It was cold once again and the darkness had settled back in. The only light that could be seen was that of the smoldering trees in the far distance. The forest that had once been part of the landscape was now a mountain of ash and the trees that had survived the sun were now burning along joining their brothers and sisters in the ash. I slowly made my way back to the road trying to make my way back to the family car. All I found was an empty shell that was more or less part of the road now. I never saw my families bodies and part of me still hoped that was a good sign, but they too had joined the trees in the ash. I was lost and for the first time there was no one there to guide me. I started to make my way down what was left of the road. I would later find out that the events of that night were caused by a solar flare and not the actual sun coming out at night, but time and minds always find a way to call something by a name they truly aren’t. That is what happened the day the sun came out at night.”

The little girl’s mom walks into the room, “And that is where we are ending your history lesson for tonight.” The little girl begins to protest, but her mother gives her a stern look and the child puts her arms down. “Sylvia must she go to bed now? I still have many stories to tell,” the old man says to his only daughter. “There will be plenty of nights to tell your stories father, but the rest of the night is for sleep. Anna go brush your teeth and get ready for bed.” Little Anna gets up from the spot beside her grandfather’s bed. She leans in to give him a hug and the old man tries his best to get his arms around the small child, but he is still much too weak. Anna skips out of the small room on her way to the well to brush her teeth. The old man begins to cough and becomes winded from the actions. Sylvia runs over to his side taking the wash cloth from off her shoulder. She wipes the little bits of blood from around the old man’s mouth, “You are over doing it father. We agreed that you would rest.” “I have been resting,” the old man tells his daughter. “No, you have been telling stories all day and checking up on us. Don’t think I haven’t noticed those blue eyes looking out at me.” “I get lonely here in my room. I’m dying Sylvia and the loneliness is making it worse.” Sylvia pretends to not her what her father has said about his death like she has for the last few months.

“You need to rest father and everything will get better.” “You and I both know that there is no getting better, and the sooner you come to terms with it Sylvia the sooner.” “The sooner what?” His daughter interrupts. “I’ve already lost my husband, my mother, and that is all there seems to be is loss. What is even the point of living father? What is the point of going through life just to die?” The old man looks away from his daughter, “There is no solution or answer I can give to you. We are humans and it is a fact of life that we will all die someday, and the fact that we lived is all we have. Nothing has been easy for you your whole life and it never will be, but you must keep on living even after everyone and everything is gone.” “But why,” his daughter begs from his bed side? “Because it is the way of the People of the Sun.”