Chewing On Glass Presents… All I Feel Is Pain…

All I Feel is Pain

    Memories are nothing more than random bits of information processed at varies speeds. This is how I remember my childhood. It comes back to me in pieces as my head slams back into the ground. Lift and repeat. Lather, rinse, and dry. Blood runs throughout your body providing oxygen and nutrients to every cell. When blood gets into your eyes it provides nothing at all. Nothing more than pain. How does someone end up reliving all their horrible childhood memories on the cold pavement? I’m not really all that sure anymore.

    Where did I go wrong? Politian’s, health-conscious assholes, leftist fascists would say it was when I smoked my first cigarette. Signed a one-way ticket to hell by today’s standards. God would I kill for one right now. Just to feel the smoke hit the back of my throat and shoot down into my lungs would make all of this a little bit more bearable. I wonder what heroin would be like in this scenario. I wonder what food will taste like as my teeth fall to the ground. Will anything ever taste the same again or will it always taste like blood? I don’t think the iron, rust like taste will never leave my mouth. I always speak my mind maybe that’s how I ended up here. The more my head hits the ground the more I forget. In the end all we have is our memories. The good ones and the bad ones. Our memories are all we have. For some reason, the only memory that keeps popping up is the time I learned to tie my shoes. Maybe because when all is said and down here. I’ll never be able to do that again. Funny how after all of this something so significant won’t even matter. Too defiant anyways. Never really learned to tie my shoes. Found a way, but not the way I was taught. The memory still comes breaking through.

My stepmother left me in a chair all day with the same story that I could get up if I tied them the dumbass way she showed me. With the bunny ears or something. The instructions are still lost on me, but the torture is clear. “If you tie your shoes we can go to the beach.” I used to love the beach. I used to love a lot of things. Too bad we were in the middle of fuck all Indiana where there is no such thing. She paraded around in a bathing suit and beach bag as if we would leave as soon as I miracle my shoes laces together. What kind of sick fuck does that to a child? The company you keep I guess. Too defiant maybe that is how I ended up where I am. Too strong-willed and stubborn to tie my shoes. To listen to anyone else.

My head hurts so much that my face has gone numb. I’ve been trying to pick myself up, but my head feels as though it weighs too much. Leaning into the punches is not helping any. I say lean but it is more of a sway. Confused by what it is I am even doing.  I’ve got nothing left. Everything I had was all used up before I even got here. A teacher once told me that you come into this world with nothing and you leave it with nothing. I can see her old wrinkled out face mouthing the words, but the world has gone silent. Gone away into the distance that is my existence. She was full of shit. You come into this world screaming and you leave it with pain. The constant that doesn’t let you forget. Can’t change much when your life flashes.

Can’t change much when you know you are going to die. Can’t take away the things that you have done. Can’t forget the time that you pissed on the street corner as the neighbor’s daughter watched. Can’t take back the punishment. The belt that struck over and over again. Not even the truth can set you free after it is all said and done. That she wanted you too. No, you are only left with the memories of a childhood you wish you could forget. Can’t change the time you climbed a tree you were told not to climb. Ended up in the hospital for not listening on that one. Should have stayed in the tree. Why didn’t I just stay in the tree? Can’t change the time you got a girl pregnant and waited in the abortion clinic waiting room. Scarred out of your mind, sad for the life you wasted, and too young to realize they are one in the same. No, none of that will ever change. Time can’t change after it is already past. Time can’t change after you’re dead. Your impressions, actions stay with those you’ve affected long after your gone. Actions speak louder than words yet the words of those around you in circle your every thought.

Don’t do this, do that, why do you got to be such a little shit, clean up your room already, have you been drinking, this is for your own good, tell me what happened, happy birthday, please take the dog out, win some and you lose some, thou shall not kill, I hate you, why couldn’t you have been better, clean your face, you disgust me, this is what you deserve, I love you. Some good and some bad they all flood in as if they should mean something, but they don’t. Is now really the time to reflect on all of this? Maybe I just wanted freedom. Maybe it was only love. Maybe it was both. I don’t know what anyone could ever want out of a world like this.

For some reason, they have stopped. Could be because I’ve stopped fighting? Maybe because they know it is already done? I can feel a smile come across my face as the hits start back up. Their anger in this world somehow more intense than my own. I want to laugh, but do I dare? I can still feel as though that all of this is some kind of prize at the end of a long game. The words aren’t clear in my head anymore. Here and gone. Trapped and freed. I feel cold yet warm. But all I really feel is pain.

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Chewing On Glass Presents… This Is Love… (Vulgar)…

So many years ago

“So there I was just minding my own business and guess who comes stumbling out of The Room?” I ask my friend Sam. “Could be anyone in this town,” he jokes. “Fair enough, but why would I care if anyone just came out of a bar?” I ask. “Are you still obsessing over her? She didn’t want your ass in high school and she still doesn’t want you now,” he informs me while avoiding using her name. I pretend to not hear him, “Obsessed is a strong word I think. I hardly think that I am obsessed with her.” Sam takes a bite out of his sandwich his dirty hands gripping the plastic that surrounds it. “So, you are saying that if you did have a chance to talk to her you wouldn’t take it?” I ask him. “I didn’t say that, but then again when am I known for taking a chance?” Sam asks me before going back to his sandwich. “Well guess what I did?” I ask with pride and a smile across my face. He shrugs barely listening to me at this point. “We are going to go out later this week,” I inform him. He looks shocked as he continues to chew. Swallowing hard before he speaks, “You know about Becky right?” He gives me a look that only a best friend could understand. “Of course I know about Becky,” I assure him. He rolls his eyes, “Okay, because I don’t want to have to be the one that tells you I told you so. You’re an adult and you can make your own mistakes.” He pops the rest of the sandwich in his mouth. The plastic is now pressed right up to his face. “An adult? Right maybe when I get back from college. Maybe then I will be an adult,” I joke to him. He places the empty plastic into his lunch box. “Hurry up we need this grave dug up before we can go home,” he says to me. “What’s the rush? It’s not like we didn’t already do all the work up to this point,” I ask him. He ignores me and places my shovel next to me as he heads for his shovel. Four more hours until this work day is done anyway. Shit work but it is better than nothing I think to myself. In the fall I will be gone and I won’t have to do this shit anymore. Waited too long to move on I think to myself.

There is a lot of time to think with a job like this. A lot of time to go over everything, obsess about everything going on or not going on in your life. A whole lot of time to dream and that’s about it. Dig the hole, body goes in, dug another hole, and another body goes in. Pretty simple, nothing to it, and I hate every moment of it. Sam’s dad owns the business. Owns most or runs any of the business in this town that have to deal with death. Makes life for Sam easier and being my best friend it makes my life easier too. I should have started school last year, but that “easy” life rubbed off on me a little too hard. Sam doesn’t have dreams. Well not about taking over the family business and since I am like a brother to Sam I am the next best thing. Go to school get my degree and come back to take over. That’s the plan Sam should be on, but I am more than happy to take the ticket he didn’t want. Honest work for an honest living I suppose. “We could have done a better job,” He says to me as we move the last of the earth. “She was old Sam. Old people die all the time,” I assure him. “If you let them,” he says disappointed to me. “We tried something different and it didn’t work. Now who is obsessing?” I ask him. “It just didn’t feel the same without a purpose,” he says looking to the sky. “Well next time we will make it really count. There is always a learning curve with these type of things,” I say to him. “I suppose you are right about that. At least there’s no chance of anyone knowing,” he proclaims. “No one is going to see the connection, but you do have a point about purpose. We can do this. It isn’t hard, but without effort or purpose then what are we really doing?” I ask. “We are just doing it to do it at that point,” he says. “Exactly and that’s not what I want to do. Next time we make it count. No point of thinking about what can’t be undone,” I say. “We can only get better with practice. Want to go see if we can get a drink at The Room?” He asks. “Of course,” I smile. “Maybe I can get a jump on my date if she is there.” He rolls his eyes and we pack up our stuff.

The week goes as it will always go until the end of time except for today. Today is the day that I finally get my chance. I finally get my chance at the one that got away. Well that is to say that anything ever happened in the first place. She may have pretended I didn’t exist for most of my actually life. She may have spent all her time paying attention to all those other assholes in high school, but tonight she is paying attention to me. Need to treat her right. Treat her like a lady. Show her she is worth more than all the rumors that have been spread about her. She just needs to meet the right person. It is so easy in this small town to get swept up into the wrong crowd. “You got this. You are the one she needs,” I say into the bathroom mirror. We are meeting up at the town diner, maybe go out to the next town over to see a film, and then maybe a little time at make out lane. That’s the plan at least. Take it easy, nice and slow. Show her what she is worth. I head to the dinner in my father’s truck. A rust bucket of an embarrassment, but it runs. Shotguns proudly displayed in the back window as though any moment is a good moment to get a deer. I can’t wait to get out of this town, go to school, and make something of myself. Even if I am only escaping for a moment and not forever. Try not to sound so desperate. You sound like a desperate asshole. Confidence, focus, focus on the positive, and it will reflect. The thoughts of high school, the thoughts of childhood seep back in. All the times everyone took their turn tormenting me. I was always something. Too short, too fat, too smart, and they were always willing to make sure I remembered. Those days have come and gone I tell myself. I arrive at the diner and get us a booth. Becky shows up late to our date.

“Sorry, I almost forgot we were doing this,” she smiles at me. “Yeah, me too,” I try to joke with confidence. She lights up a cigarette. “So just dinner and then what are you going to do?” She asks. I swallow all my insecurities the best I can, “Well I was thinking we could drive over to Selma and see a movie. Just the two of us?” I ask or try to say. Confidence I remind myself. “Yeah that wasn’t part of the deal,” she says to me. “Well no, but I was thinking,” I start. “You seem to be doing a lot of that, but that wasn’t the deal. You said “I can take you home if you go out to dinner with me”. So here I am. We can eat and then we go our separate ways,” she reminds me. “I remember what I said, but I was thinking. I thought why not make a night of it. We never got to talk much in high school,” I start to over explain. “Did you think this was a date?” She asks me. “Well kind of. I mean not a date, date, but maybe it could have been. I mean I’ve never really asked someone out before,” I mumble into nothing. She puts out her cigarette in the ashtray, “Yeah, it shows. Look I’m not trying to come off as a bitch, but we made a deal for a ride home. I was desperate so I said okay. I don’t even know you and honestly right now I’m not in a place in my life where I want to get to know anyone. So, I am fine with eating and going our separate ways. But beyond that I am going to have to say no,” she lays out. “Well I thought maybe we would talk and then maybe then,” I begin yet again. “I don’t think you are quite getting this. You seem like a nice guy. A little odd, but for the most part you seem to be nice. I’m sure you are. A little advice though. When you make a deal for someone to buy you dinner for a ride home. When you do that it’s not the best idea to see if then they want to go out on a date. If you wanted to go out on a date than you should have just asked me out on a date,” she says. “I mean I would have. I should have, but things were a bit off and weird that night. I was going to pay for the food. I didn’t actually expect you to have to pay for your food,” I say disjointed. “Maybe it is my fault. Look if I had known this was supposed to be a date I would have declined. I was desperate and I needed a ride home. You presented the deal and I was fine with it. Dinner for a ride. That was it. Maybe this was a mistake. No, this was. Look I’m sorry,” she gets up and grabs her purse. “Sam it was really kind of you to give me a ride home the other night, but that is all that it was,” she walks away and the bell on the diner door rings. It rings as though it is the only sound in all of the world. “My names not Sam,” I mumble to myself.

Naturally I call Sam from the diner and naturally I go over to his place and explain everything. Naturally he wants to say I told you so and like a good friend he doesn’t. “So, are you done obsessing over her now?” He asks me. “I wasn’t obsessing over her,” I tell him. “You can lie to yourself man, but you can’t lie to me. You’ve never been able too. I knew something was weird the other day. I was just hoping I was wrong,” he says disappointed. “Whatever it went as well as I could have hoped,” I try to play off. “Don’t do that,” Sam tells me. “Do what?” I ask. “Try to play it off. It was shitty. She is a shitty person. She always has been and will always be. Granted you did maybe mix up your intentions. But even a blind man could see you were asking her out on a date,” he reassures me. “Thank you, that’s all I wanted was some validation. I tried Sam. Told myself to be confident, to act confident, and I crumbled like I always do,” I tell him. “She really thought you were me?” he asks. “Honestly that was the worst part. I thought getting turned down made me feel like shit, but when she called me you it was like a knife to the heart,” I confess. “Well you are still breathing so, I hardly think it was anything like a knife to the heart. If there is one thing either of us know it is what that is truly like,” Sam jokes. “Very funny,” I say back to him unimpressed. “Looks lets go get a drink or two and forget about this whole shitty night,” Sam suggests. “I guess that’s about all there is ever to do around here,” I say frustrated. “Oh, cheer up we could always go to the movies in Selma,” he antagonizes.

We head over to The Room to do the only thing there is to do in this town, forget. The Room is packed with people as it always is. Sam and I walk to the bar to order our drinks, and I see her at the other end. Surrounded by men. “Don’t even look at her,” he says to me.  She picks up her shot off the bar as the men around her watch. They all cheer as she finishes it off before taking a drink from their own drinks. “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had,” Sam says. “No, its fine,” I say as the bartender hands us our drinks. “Another, another,” the other side of the bar chants and the bartender walks away from us. Sam and I take our drinks to a table at the far end of The Room. We don’t say much as we sip our drinks. He sits there drinking while I sit there staring at the scene across from us. People walk by and maybe Sam speaks to me, but all I notices in a room full of people is her. Her taking drink after drink. She deserves someone better. Someone like me. Not those assholes she surrounds herself with. Not the ones that will only use her and throw her way. She deserves someone who will worship her like I do. We get more drinks and I watch some more. “What do you want to do?” Sam asks me and my eyes never leave her. “I want to destroy each and every one of them,” I say without thinking. “I’m sure you do and I can’t say that I don’t want to help you, but we both know that will solve nothing,” he says to me. “Sure, it would. Take away the distractions and there will be nothing left,” I say in a low tone. “You need to get your shit together man. We aren’t going to fuck up a good thing because you can’t keep your head straight. Surely not going to do it for her,” Sam says. “Then what do you suggest all mighty one? What is it that we should do?” I ask. “We take out the problem,” he says as if that is the only answer. “Is that not what I suggested?” I ask turning my attention to him and away from her. “No, you suggested adding to the problem. You are planning to make this worse. When you should be planning to make this better. Have faith in me and we can make this all better,” he says to me. I sit in silence as I stare into his eyes. Looking away only to notice her preparing to leave. I watch as she stumbles out of the bar with two men closely on her heels.

Sam watches as intently as I do until the three have left The Room. “I don’t know about you, but I notice a pattern,” Sam says to me. “That I will never be good enough for her?” I ask. “If anything you are too good for her, but no. What I have noticed from all the times we have been watching her leave is that if you get enough drinks in her she will leave with anyone,” he says slyly. I look into his eyes. “Notice how disappointed the others are.” I look over to the men she left behind. “The one on the left doesn’t seem too happy. I imagine he looks a lot like you did when she turned you down,” he says. “So?” I ask. “My guess would be that he was the plans she had for later. She was who he was meeting after dinner with you,” he expresses. “I could see that I guess,” I take another drink. “So one could infer that she doesn’t always leave with the one that she came with,” Sam points out. “If this is some sort of pep talk about how she is a whore I don’t need that right now,” I tell him. “I imagine that you don’t. If you could move past your own obsession then maybe you could see what I am trying to tell you is all that you need to know to get what you want. What we both want,” he says. “What is it that we could both want out of her?” I ask. “I know that you are hurt or broken or whatever, but now is not the time to play stupid,” Sam finishes off his drink. “Well it is a little late to do anything about it now. She already left with those other two guys. I’m sure she is panties down and knee deep in cock right now. Are you suggesting we take them all out or something else?” I ask. “Neither, all I am suggesting is that if we want to get even. That would be our in.,” he says. “Wait until she is completely drunk?” I ask. “Precisely,” he raises his empty glass in the air and the server signals that she will bring another. “Swoop in and take what it is that we deserve,” Sam says to me. “We?” I ask. “She isn’t on the list,” I say to him. “No, she isn’t is she. But maybe she will fulfill our purpose none the less. Question is how do we get away with it?” He asks me. “I’m sure you will come up with something,” I say to him.

These things take time. Revenge, takes time. Too soon and it becomes too obvious. Too long and it all sinks into oblivion. The right balance Sam would say. A mixture of time and effort. Others were caught because they didn’t think it through. Spent too little time forming a plan. They were sloppy. Checks and balances. We keep each other in line and we never lose sight of the purpose. They want us to be nothing so we became nothing. Background noise for their lives. It is what we do in the shadows that proves who we really are. The plan was simple. Less complicated then the last. “Just like Mike we make it look like something else. Stage it to be something else. Who doesn’t hate themselves? Who doesn’t have thoughts of taking all the pain away?” It all seems so simple even if it is not. Nothing can be overlooked. Anticipate that everything and anything will be. Checks and balances. Use what we have. Bring only what was needed. The plan was easy enough, but nothing ever goes as planned.

“You seem like you could use some help,” I say to her as she stumbles out of the bathroom. “Don’t you always seem to show up when I need someone the most,” she slurs as she stops to talk to me. “You are looking like you had one too many,” I say to her. She puts her arms around my shoulders more for stability than anything else. “You may be right about that. Might be making some stupid decisions once again. You ever make any stupid decisions Sam?” She asks me through blurry eyes. “I can think of one or two I might have made in my life,” I tell her. She stares into my eyes trying to figure out who I am. “Let me take you home. It is the least I can do,” I say to her. No deals this time. A simple suggesting this time around. “I think maybe I’d like that,” she says confused. Looking around The Room everyone is too caught up in their own lives to notice just like we had hoped. No one notices Becky and I as we make our way out of the bar. I guide her to the truck as she goes on about how wonderful I am. I try to keep my composure as I get her in the truck. My hand brushes against her breasts as I put the seat belt on her. “You think you want to try something?” She asked threw slurred words before giving me a kiss on the lips. It should have been everything I imagined it to be. The stale taste of old alcohol left on my lips. If I had known it would have been this easy could all of this had been avoided?

Closing the door of the truck I take one last look around. No one insight. No one to notice that she left with me. I hop into the driver’s side and turn the engine. “So where do you live again?” I ask knowing that it doesn’t matter. Her hand falls into my lap as I make the turn out of the parking lot. “Is that really where you want to take me?” She asks as she rubs the inside of my leg. I can’t help but get excited. Finally finding her way to my excitement, “Guess it’s not.” She rubs her hand over my jeans getting me even more excited. “Didn’t think it would be,” she slurs. I drive on out of town. I look at the clock and realize I am ahead of schedule. “There may be some time to work something out,” I say to her. “Oh, there is always time to work something out”, she jokes.  I keep her talking to keep her awake. Before turning off into an unmarked road not far from the state park. “You got a secret spot I don’t know about?” She jokes. “I might know a secret or too,” I tell her. “I like a good secret,” she says before taking her hand off of me. Driving slowly through the woods I try to not get more excited as she undoes her seat belt. She starts to take off her clothes starting with her shirt, “Hurry up and take me to this secret spot because I want to fuck you already.” She slips off her bra exposing her breast and I try not to wreck the truck. Working her way out of her jeans I slow the truck down to a stop in front of the planned spot. “Well if you want any part of this you better come and get it,” she shouts before jumping out of the truck in her underwear. I turn the truck off as she stands nearly naked in the truck head lights. Stands there wanting me. Wanting something even if she doesn’t know who it is from I remind myself.

I grab a few things from behind the truck seats and get out to join her. She runs up to me as her breasts jiggle with each step. She slams them into me as she runs into me. She giggles as she wraps her arms around me and gives me a kiss. We kiss as I lead her backwards away from the truck.  I drop what is in my hands hard onto the grass and take her into my arms. She works her hands down to the opening of my pants. “You know what I was thinking?” She asks between kisses. “What?” I ask between the same. “Why aren’t you fucking me yet,” she says as she frees my cock. She falls towards the ground taking me with her. We make out some more in the grass as I take her panties off. She lays beneath me with her legs spread. I look down at all of her bathed in the headlights of the truck. This is all I ever wanted I think to myself. “I don’t have a condom,” I say to her. She works the rest of my pants down off my waist, “Just stick it in already Sam.” I want to say my name is not Sam. Let her know, but then I remember Sam will be here any minute. Sam would not approve of this. This wasn’t part of the plan. I shove myself deep inside her. Over and over, and with each thrust she cries out. She demands more and more. I grip her ass with both hands and give her one last final thrust before I finish. I can feel everything leave my body, my mind until the only thing left is the thought. This is love. She opens her eyes. “Is that all you got? I thought you said you were going to fuck me? What was that like two second?” she rants. My penis slides out of her as she continues to complaint. Reality comes flooding back in with each one of her insults. “See this is why no one bothered with your loser ass in high school,” she spews out. My anger builds, my frustration comes flooding back in. I want to scream as I put my hand around her throat. “Oh, so you do got more left in you?” She questions through gritted teeth. “Give it to me then you pussy. Is that what you need? For me to insult your bitch ass,” she berates me. I reach for one of the things I brought. I reach for a part of the plan. Anticipate that you will always forget something. I shove the barrel of the shot gun deep inside of her. “That does seemed to be exactly what you need you,” I squeeze her throat stopping her from saying anything else. I reach around for the trigger of the shotgun. All I can feel is what is left of the barrel sticking out of her. I release my hand from her throat and slide my body back away from her. “That’s what I’m fucking talking about. Now fuck me with that rock hard cock,” she shouts. I pull the trigger and watch everything unfold in slow motion. I watch as her face turns and her words cease to exist. I watch as her inside get pushed out from within. I smell nothing but burning flesh and shit, and my dick becomes harder than it could ever get.

“What the fuck have you done?” Sam shouts at me with a noose in his hands. I let go of the trigger and rise to my feet. My shirt is covered in blood and my pants around my ankles. “Put that fucking thing away,” Sam shouts at me. Confused I realize he is talking about my dick. “This was not part of the plan,” he continues to shout while I pull my pants up. I needed more time I think as my penis pushes against my pants. “You stupid, obsessed dumb fuck. You had to fuck her didn’t you? You had to go and fuck this up? The plan was to hang her and watch her die. Make it look like she couldn’t take anymore,” Sam raves. “Doesn’t look like she can take much more than what I gave her,” I try to joke. “Shut the fuck up,” Sam says in a slow manner, “Shut the fuck up.” He begins to pace throwing his hand around. “Let me think. Just let me think,” he says over and over. I stand there silently looking over her body. Looking at what it was that I had just done. “Did you cum in her?” he asks. “Did you?” he asks in rapid succession. I reach down and pull the shot gun out. Bits of flesh still left on the barrel, “I don’t think it matters anymore.” Sam lets out a noise best described as a huff, “Doesn’t matter? Doesn’t matter? DNA asshole have you heard of it? When they find her naked body what do you think they are going to look for first?” Sam rants with his whole body. “Good luck finding it,” I declare pointing the shotgun at her destroyed corpse. “You know for the smart one. You are pretty fucking stupid,” Sam shouts at me. “It’s destroyed. Whatever I put inside her is long gone now,” I declare. Sam makes a face, “Or maybe it is splashed all against her chest and face, and any other place that shotgun sent the rest of her.” He shakes his head. “We don’t know anything. They have to look for her first and find her. Animals I don’t know, but anything left could be long gone before it even matters,” I try to reason. The stress building up in his face Sam rubs his face hard as he tries to calm down, “We clean up as much as we can without making it look like we cleaned anything up and we will be fine. We bleach the shot gun and burn your clothes. We should be fine. But if you ever.” He pauses dramatically, “If you ever go against the plan again I will kill you.” The real Sam comes out and we get to work. Checks and balances don’t always work, but they are there for a reason I suppose.

If you didn’t read Let The Good Times Roll… It can be found in Broken Thoughts Vol. 1 Between Me and You… Priced to sale at only $4… But that’s not all to find in this Volume… With a blend of poetry… thoughts… and stories… it is very much something different… something to read while you wait for Volume 2 to release…

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Chewing On Glass Presents… Keep It To Yourself…

“I tried to quit smoking recently and it didn’t go well. Go well is a bit of an understatement really. In the aftermath though I realized a few things about myself. Turns out I wasn’t addicted to smoking or some oral fixation, which sounds like I will suck on anything pointed at my face by the way. No, the reason I can’t stop inhaling dried leaves laced with additives and chemicals is because I am addicted to a much darker thought. I am addicted to the thought of death. Even if it is a slow drawn out death. One filled with hacking and an overall weathering of my body as I watch myself slowly extinguish like the very thing I love. I am fixated on the thought of death to just stop myself from killing myself. Does that make sense? In some ways we are self-destructive.  That isn’t a new idea in this world. Some of us shoot shit into our veins. Others barrel down the road in hopes that a child doesn’t pop up in a school zone. I put something to my lips and take a deep breath. We as humans are addicted to destroying ourselves. On purpose or by circumstance we can’t give it up. I can’t think of one thing that I do that isn’t killing me in some way. Which may be a good reason to give up one that I know will, but why? What’s really in it for me? Life always ends in the same whether we want it to or not. Right or wrong all we have in life is faith that we are doing what is best for ourselves even if it is not. Our judgements and our thoughts are ours, but sometimes there is no need to express every last one. The mind is a terrible thing to waste and sometimes hearing a piece of it can be too much to handle. Opinions maybe like assholes and everyone’s got one, but it doesn’t mean we want to hear them,” I spill out. “Yes, these are all valuable points Layne, but what were you thinking about at the time?” The lady with the clip board asks me. “I prefer Ambrose,” I inform her. “My apologies Ambrose, but please answer the question,” she says in a way that lets me know that she doesn’t care. This is another job. Another moron she has to deal with. “Those were my exact thoughts give or take a few on the spot additions. I tend to fixate on an idea and kind of “black out” or chew on that idea for a while. Well until something else pisses me off or annoys me. Then I switch to that one,” I ramble on. She give me a look that I have seen before. Everyone gives me that look whenever I try to explain myself.  Same look just before they roll their eyes.

“Those were your exact thoughts when you were,” she pauses to flip through some papers on her clipboard. “Ah yes, here we are,” she finally says before turning the clipboard towards me. She shows me a picture of the aftermath of my actions. I try to not look at the picture, but when it is basically shoved in your face it is hard to look away. “Those were your thoughts when you did this?” She asks again. I fidget against the restraints they have me in, “I mean give or take. Yeah that is what I was thinking about.” She turn the clipboard back to herself and flips back to where she left off.  “How does it make you feel doing what you did to that innocent lady?” she asks me. “Well it doesn’t make me feel good, but let’s not throw around the word innocent so loosely. I mean if you would have heard what she had to say and the way she was saying it. My actions might almost seem justified. I mean in the right circle,” I try to joke. “Justified? This isn’t a joke Mr. Ambrose. I’d hardly call decapitating a defenseless woman in front of her children justified because she was simply informing you about the harm you were doing to yourself,” she says all butt hurt. “Words, words, words it is all about how you say them. That’s the thing about perception. I’ll tell you one thing. Those children learned a valuable lesson that day,” I say in a less playful tone. “What possible lesson could those poor children have learned from you that day?” She asks with fire burning in her eyes. “Besides the obvious? Those kids learned that sticks and stone will hurt them, but words will surely kill me,” I let off a dark sinister laugh.

Horrified the doctor gets up from her chair. “You are sick Layne Ambrose,” the doctor tries to say over all of my laughing. “You haven’t been paying attention,” I say in a low tone between all the laughing. She stares at me. Puzzled as I leap at her from across the coffee table. Dislocating my thumb before I leaped at her I knock her to the floor. I sit on top of her as she tries to fight me off. She isn’t strong enough to get me off of her. I pop my arm thumb back into socket and grab the pen the lays next to us. “Help,” she screams. “Help me,” she struggles to say as I put my hand on her throat. “Someone,” she fights to say as I stab the pen into her neck over and over again. She slowly stops fighting me, but I can see the life still left in her eyes. I release my hand from her throat as more blood rushes from her wound. A large hole in the side of her neck. “You think I am sick?” I ask her. “You think? Maybe the next one will be smart enough to keep their opinions to themselves,” I get up off of her and head back towards my chair. “I think we are going to need some help in here,” I shout as loud as I can. “This one seems to be leaking.”

So if you remember last year I tried to do this whole insane asylum story arc?… When There Is No More Room….  This story was actually an out take of that story… well it was supposed to be the catalyst to the doctor character getting the big job… very early on idea… because eventually I decided to make that whole story pretty much take place in the past… so me being a live in the 50’s is a bit of stretch… so why am I in the story?… that seems weird… and it is… but it also isn’t… even before No More Room

So.. so.. long ago… in another galaxy…  I had this other idea for a novel… I still might do it… but even after all these years I still haven’t come up with a way to not make me seem like a self-centered asshole… which I am but it doesn’t have to be so obvious… the idea any way was to create a vast network of short stories that all involved me in some way… so this one… another that takes place in outer space… where one of the characters drops a line like… “Have you heard about what’s going on down there?  Have you heard about Layne Ambrose?”… all different genres… all different stories… all involving me…

Yeah… let that soak in… it is a dumb ass idea… but early on… it seemed like the coolest idea ever… whenever you start something new… ideas seem easy to come by… not good ideas… or even great ones… those take years… and that is what I learned in all the years that I have been writing… this was a one off story I wanted to share… give you a taste of what could have been… and will most likely never be… you didn’t ask for it… but you are more than welcome….

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Something Different… Dancing Around The Poetry Fire…

Smile All Will Be Over Soon

Standing beside the devil at the gates of hell
There’s no heaven for someone like me
Laid down before Christ
Kissed his feet
Hoping I won’t be the only one that’s died
Best one could hope for a silent death
Stripping the flesh inch for inch
Killing the idea of you was never meant to be easy
Taking breath for breath, taking a life
Welcome home tattooed across my skin
In blood, in blood we learn what freedom is
Never forget who you really are
A devil saint masquerading as a demon
One in the fucking same, no different from the next
Who I am and what you’ll be
What is it that the world made me
A puppet, a pawn, my new plaything
Smile, this is all God ever asked from you
The blood only a part of the process
Smile, gave you all that you needed
Never good enough, no one ever will be
Need more to understand
What I’ve become
Same as you only worse
Never give anything
You aren’t willing to lose

Testing Out The Thoughts In My Head

Dragging the blade against the skin
What was it that you once said
No one could ever be a beautiful as you
Testing the theory that it was all in my head
How quickly you changed
Now who is the one begging I was dead
Dragging the blade against the skin
Tearing out all the dirty thoughts
Where do I begin, trapped within
No one could ever be as clean as you
Testing the theory that it was all in my head
How quickly I changed
Now who is the one suggesting medicine
Dragging the blade against the skin
Carving out all the pieces I adore
Being so selective never felt so good
What was it you once said
No one could be as perfect as you
I beg to differ on the subject
Testing the theory that it was all in my head
How quickly your pleas turn into threats
Now who is the one begging I quit
Dragging the blade against the skin
I wish I could live in
Worship me as I have always you
Be mine so we can end these stupid games
Promise me you’ll always be as beautiful
As I make you
Obsession leads to creativity
Testing out all the thoughts in my head

Got pretty dark in here… That first one started off as a Broken Thought… then it kept going… had to change the whole theme of my post… was originally going to talk about the sun and how life is so beautiful… really just the beauty of life… the normal things I like to talk about really… but then this dark cloud came out of nowhere… sometimes life is about riding the wave of emotions… maybe next time on Cuddling with Glass…. (That still sounds pretty painful… There’s nothing soft, warm, or fuzzy about glass… other options… Gluing with Glass… Blowing with Glass… if you came up with anything post it in the comments…)

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Chewing On Glass Presents… See Through the Light into the Darkness Pt 2…

“We’ve all gathered her once again. What is the purpose? What is the point of all of this my people?” The man asks the small coven before him. “To praise him,” they chant back. “To love him. To Honor him,” They continue. “Because?” The man asks enthusiastically. “Jesus is lord,” They answer. The woman at the man’s feet whimpers as she struggles with her restraints. Gagged she can’t say a thing, but she tries none the less. “That is right my children. That is so very right. We don’t do this for ourselves, but for him. We don’t hurt people we free them in the name of our lord. That is why we are here this evening,” the man kneels down towards the woman. Rubbing the back of his fingers across her face, “This woman, if you could call her that, needs our help this evening my children.” She flails her head as she tries to scream, “Hush my child. We are only trying to save you, help you. We mean you no harm.” The man stands back up and takes his place behind the podium. The air around him thick with silent anticipation. “See my children? See why we must help her? She doesn’t even know that she is lost. She doesn’t even know the devil has taken a hold of her,” He presents to them. “Free her. Give her back to Jesus,” they all responded back. “Oh, we shall. Strip her,” he orders to the two men beside the stage. The two men do as they are told ripping the woman’s clothes off of her. Her mesh shirt shredded instantly. She kicks and screams as her pale skin is exposed to the crowd. “Stand her up for my children to see,” the man orders. “Look my children. Look what the devil as done to this poor woman,” he walks from behind the podium and stands next to her. “These marks of sin all throughout her body. Tattoos not only where we can freely see, but even where only her husband could,” he runs his finger down her pelvis following the outline of the tattoos as he speaks. “And these,” he shouts to dramatic effect as he flicks her nipple rings. She struggles against the two men. “What on God’s green earth could these be used for if not for sin. What is the purposes of such atrocities? Don’t even get me started on her horns,” he chuckles to himself. “Set her free. Give her back to Jesus,” the angry crowd shouts unprovoked. “Oh, we shall my children, we shall. Kneel before Christ,” he shouts at her. The two men kick her legs out from under her and help her to her knees. Naked kneels before him as he steps up to her with a cup in his hands. He pulls out her gag with his free hand releasing a siren of screams into the room. “Hush now child,” he says loud enough for everyone to hear. Moving closer to her face he speaks in whispers, “You had to know the day would come where you’d have to face your sins. Some one of your nature couldn’t be so naive. Here are your choices young lady. You drink this here cup of the lord.” Her face tenses up, “I’m not drinking shit.” He lets off a small amused smile, “I think you will because if you don’t you are going to know pain beyond anything even you could know. Drink the cup and accept Jesus into your body. You do that and we will let you go. Simple really. If you don’t. Well we will have to find another way to let Jesus in and the demons out.” Tears fall from her face, “I ain’t drinking shit.” He shakes his head, “Please, we don’t want to hurt you. We just want to save you. Save your soul from damnation. Drink the blood of Christ accept him into your heart and you are free do go.” He holds the cup within inches of her lips. “Okay, I’ll drink it,” she agrees. “She says she will accept Christ,” he shouts for all to hear. She continues to cry as the room cheers. He hold the cup up to her lips and she slowly drinks it, Take all of Jesus Christ into you.” She nods as she drinks from the cup. Drinks every last drop. “Let her go,” he orders to the two men. Scarred and panic she rises naked to her feet. She tries to cover what she can of herself as she runs down the aisle. “Let Christ consume your evil my child. Let the lord set you free,” he shouts from behind her. A smile stretched across his face. The sedative takes effect before she even makes it to the doors of the church. “How could I be so,” she falls to the floor. “Bring her to me my children. We have much to do before it is too late,” he orders.

“Is she ready?” The reverend asks. “She has been drained of all her blood,” one of his followers answers. “Good, take her down and lets proceed to the chosen sight,” the reverend orders. “What of the others?” The follower asks. “In time my child. In time they will all receive their penance,” he answers. Bodies of men and women hang from meat hooks bound by the wrist. The truck bed shifts a bit. “Will someone tell the driver to be a little more careful? We have precious cargo with us. Can’t afford to get caught now. Not this soon. So much work left to do,” The reverend says with a smile. The follower disappears to the front of the trailer to talk to the driver. The reverend touches her face with the back of his hand, “Could have truly been so much more in this world.” A female follower standing next to him speaks up, “She will be more than she could have ever been in this life time. Praise him.” He turns to her, “How right you are my child. How right you are.” He takes the followers face into his hands, “Praise him. Praise him we shall.” The refrigerated truck drives for a few more hours until it reaches a stretch of road in some unknown town. “We have arrived my children,” He announces. The followers that he has brought come from under their warm blankets. Steam releasing from their bodies as they rush to get the others awake and ready. “The sun will be up soon and we have even less time than that. Put the gloves on and take her to the tree. No one without gloves is allowed to touch anything,” the reverend commands. Slipping on his own gloves he takes three large industrial size nails and the hammer from the end of the truck. They slip out of the truck and rapid fashion. Silent as the night as they carry her dead corpse with them. Sitting her down in the grass they untie her hands and place her in a cross formation. They stand waiting around the body in a circle as the reverend makes his way to them. He places the nails next to her body before taking one. Placing it in the palm of her cold dead hand he hammers it in. “For the Lord,” he says before taking another nail. Palm to ankles he hammers the nails into the body. “For the Lord. Praise him,” his followers chant. They all go silent as he hammers in the final nail firmly through her ankles. Pinned against the grass they all stare at her lifeless corpse. “The sinner and the whore has been redeemed for your blessing. We give you back your lost child. We give, we do all that you have asked of us. For we are the children of the one true God. We are the warriors upon which you seek. Praise the Lord. Honor the Lord. Children of Christ. Amen.” The followers raise their arms to the sky as it begins to rise. The shadows of evil slowly receding at the dawn of day. “Praise him. Praise the Lord,” the followers say in unison one last time. Into the early light they disappear back to the truck. They leave no traces of ever being there and the insects begin to feed. Because even in the south the dead don’t rest in peace.

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Chewing On Glass Presents… Let the Good Times Roll… (Vulgar)

Let the Good Times Roll

“Holy shit look at these faggots all sitting around doing nothing,” a once familiar voice shouts from across the bar. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say under my breath. My friends Sam and Brian can’t believe it either. We smile and give him a proper hello once he finally makes his way over to us. One that doesn’t involve hate speech or unrequested insults. He stands there in front of us. Staring us down. Taking us in, I guess? “Thought you weren’t ever coming back here?” I ask after having enough of the silence. It is obvious that I am going to have to lead this train wreck from here on in. Of course the one voted most likely to lead nothing has to take charge. “Didn’t think I would ever come back to this shit show or see you sad fucks, but here I am,” he smiles like any one of us really care. Does he not really feel the awkwardness of it all right now? I look at my other two friends. Been friends for as long as I can remember. Too long for them to not see that I’m signaling them to say anything. Instead they each take another sip from their beers. “Why?” I blurt out. “If you don’t mind me asking,” I interject quickly.  He doesn’t miss a beat. “Came to see what you guys were up to. Came to see what’s been happening since I left,” he looks around The Room in disgust. In all fairness we all look at The Room like that. I mean the damn bar is called The Room. But it is The Room how dare he look in disgust at our bar. “You really came all the way out here to see us?” Brain finally questions. About fucking time, Jesus. “Well I mean I wasn’t setting out to come back here. I was driving through on my way to Pittsburgh and I thought what the hell one night in this shit hole won’t kill me,” he jokes. There is no main road from here to Pittsburgh I want to question, but it’s not like not questioning his lie is going to kill me. I take a drink from my beer. “Shit man, wasn’t even thinking. Do you want a drink?” I ask him. “Yeah, I’d love one,” he stares at me. Why the fuck did I open my mouth? Brian still seems very confused by the whole Pittsburgh exchange, which is fair considering he has been drinking since noon. I order him a beer. The same as the rest of us. “How did you find us?” Sam asks. Even with my back turned to them, to him I can already see his dumb fucking face spilling out all the words. Five minutes and it is already high school all over again. No one missed this asshole for even a second. “This crap shoot of a town only has one bar. Wasn’t too hard to locate the three biggest losers around,” he answers. Sam and Brian give a half assed laugh. The bartender hands me his beer and gives me a look that says I’ve heard every word he has said about my place and I don’t like it. I try to give him a look that reciprocates his displeasure. I turn and hand him the drink. “Took long enough,” the arrogant fuck says. One night, a few hours tops, and then we should never have to see him again.

He takes a drink from his beer. The first of many. “So what have you fucks been up too?” You all marry the town sluts and pop out a few worthless people yet?” He half jokes and half means. “You haven’t changed much over the years,” I say before finishing my beer. “What has it been? Something like eight years?” I ask before ordering another one. “I think so. Something like that,” Brain says. “None of us are married or have children,” Sam adds. Stressing children. “We’ve all been just working or going to school. Robert just got back from Harvard yesterday. It’s crazy really that you just showed up today because we are actually here to celebrate his return,” Sam continues. I nod my head. “No fucking shit? You went to Harvard? And to think I thought your dumb country ass was still digging holes for the dead,” he says. Thanks, it was a lot of work,” I say. “What did you go for?” He questions as though I am lying. “Pathology, but majored mostly in the forensic side of it. Got a job here in town. Coroner’s assistant. Nothing too exciting,” I say. “Nothing too exciting?” Brain shouts drunkenly. “Now we can hide the bodies,” he whispers jokingly.  I give off a smile, “Totally.”  This sets off another awkward silence amongst us. It was already a little weird and then he showed up. Again I have to take the lead. “What have you been up to Nick? You were always the one who was going to get out of this town and do something with yourself.” I ask with little actual intention of listening. Scanning the bar it seems rather empty for a Friday night. He doesn’t answer right away. We all haven’t been up to much, but his inability to brag about himself right now seems odd. “You know this and that. Nothing like Harvard or anything like that. But who wants to talk about the past? We are living now,” he finally says before taking another drink. “Well why were you heading to Pittsburgh?” Brain asks barely able to lift his head up off the bar. He should be almost done by this point. It is interesting how much like our parents we try to not be. Seems almost as if we are trying to outrun a shadow only to embrace it. “Remember that time you fell out of that tree and broke your arm?” Nick deflects at me.

“Yeah, I do. I didn’t fall though. You pushed me for being scared,” I say rubbing the scars along my right arm. “Had to learn to write left handed for months,” I say in aggravation. “That’s not how I remember it. I thought you were writing left handed because you wanted to try something new,” he tries to play off. “Yeah, because I wanted to be made fun of for writing like a “retard” or so our classmates used to tease me,” I reflect. “I remember that,” Sam adds. “They picked on you pretty bad for that. Didn’t you break it again after that fight with? What was his name? Steven or Scott or something,” Brain chimes in out of nowhere. “Mike, fat mike they used to call him,” I say. “He beat the fuck out of you. What happened to that obese mother fucker?” Nick asks. “He killed himself not long after you left. Shot gun blast to the face. He didn’t die right away, but in the end he passed. My dad said it was gruesome. Said even though he was dying he kept trying to say something. Some people believe it wasn’t a suicide,” Sam says in solace. “You look empty Nick,” I say as I pass him another beer. He catches it as it slides across the bar top. I raise my drink and pretend to take another drink. “It is sad really all the stuff the people here have gone through. The hard times and the good. Life here is always filled with so much tragedy,” I say. We all take another drink in silence. “Remember Becky?” I ask the group. “Oh I remember Becky,” Brain says a little too loudly. “Wasn’t she that big chested whore that was a grade or two above us?” Nick asks. “I remember Becky,” Sam says staring at his bottle, “That’s when the murders started.”

“Murders?” Nick asks in genuine shocked. “Probably a year after you left. People around town started to disappear. It was one of the reasons I got the fuck out of here,” I say. “I don’t ever remember hearing anything about any murders,” Nick says in confusion. “I suppose you won’t. There aren’t many people here in town willing to talk about them,” Sam says. “You really disconnected when you left for the city Nick,” I add. “I guess I really did. So what happened to Becky?” Nick asks. Sam looks over to me and then to Brain. I’m not volunteering to lead this one I think. “It was pretty messed up,” Sam begins. “She was never one to date anyone good for her and she had a reputation of dating more than one man at a time,” Sam continues. “Because she was a whore. Don’t waste time telling me what I already know,” Nick interrupts. “Right,” Sam says rolling his eyes and taking a drink. “Any way one night Becky doesn’t come home. Her parents don’t think much about. She goes out a lot, she is an adult, and what are you going to do? Typical missing person story. After about three days though they began to get very worried. No word and no sightings. Would scare anyone in this town. So they go to the police and they set out looking for her. It took a few days, but eventually they found her. Dead in the woods. Deep in the woods not too far from the state park on some private land. I guess she used to go out there to get busy,” Sam takes a long breath and an even longer drink. “That’s it?” Nick asks. “They just found her in the woods dead?” Nick takes another drink. “Of course that wasn’t it. At the time though they just thought it was a lover’s fight gone wrong. A fucked up one, but an isolated incident. My dad was the medical examiner for that case too. Told me they found her dead from a shot gun wound,” Sam says. “Just like Mike and no one thought that might be connected?” Nick interrupts. “This is the sticks Nick. We don’t get a whole lot of murders and let’s not forget the fact that we all have shotguns. Hell I’m driving my dad’s truck and there are two in there right now,” I say. “Not to mention she didn’t die from a shotgun blast to the head like Mike,” Brain again says out of nowhere. “No, someone had taken the barrel of the shotgun and stuck it right up her. Right up her vagina and pulled the trigger,” Sam says in near silence. “Finally found a load she couldn’t handle,” Nick says off handed. I try not to laugh as I pretend to take another drink.

The night goes on. Drink after drink. Nick gets drunker and so does Sam. We talk for hours creating an alibi. People in this town don’t ask too many questions I think. Sam calls in a ride for him and Brain. I offer Nick a ride home. Where ever that might be. “How are you still sober?” He asks me in a drunken slur. “College taught me more than just what was in the books,” I play off. Loading Nick in my truck took more care than I was willing to give. Nearly crushed his arm when I slammed the door shut. The weather turned cold at some point. The seasons are changing I think as I look at his car sitting there in the parking lot. “Freezing balls here asshole turn on the god damn heater,” He shouts from within the truck. I open the driver’s door and climb in, “It takes a second to warm up.” He tries to talk to me in small talk but most of it comes out in inaudible slurs. “Your parents still live up on Oak Street?” I ask knowing his answer doesn’t matter. His distorted speech starts again and then stops. I look to see if he is sleeping. Wide awake he appears to have something on his mind and is trying really hard to say whatever it might be. We pass street light after street light until there aren’t anymore. The road turns dark. Flashes of trees from the head lights. “Robert can I ask you something?” He finally says clear as day. ‘Of course,” I say curious. “In high school didn’t you try to date Becky?” he poses the question as though he knows it is fact and yet very confused at the same time. “As a matter of fact I did,” I say as a matter of fact. We pass more and more trees until I start to slow down not too far outside of the state park. Pulling into an odd clear space between the trees. A trail I found so many years ago. I wanted nothing more than to get away. Same as every kid I assume, but time has a way of drawing you home. Even wasted Nick begins to question what is happening. “I’d love to say that our story ended there. Becky and I. Well to be completely honest I’m a little more than proud our story didn’t end there. See part of that story you heard tonight was true. A lover’s fight gone horribly wrong, but one would have to say that we were lovers to really claim such a thing. I didn’t love Becky. I resent her for what she did. For what they all did really. Everyone who has ever scorned me,” I pause. “I think here is a good place to drop me off,” Nick fights to get out of his mouth. Pulling the handle of the door over and over to no avail. “Yeah, that is broken. Maybe I should have mentioned that. My father has been busy you know. Getting older and what not. And no good friend just leaves someone lost in the woods so unfortunately for you here is not a good place to stop. But I know a really good place. Trust me,” I smile. We keep driving through the woods slowly as I try to remember the exact path. “Where was I? Yes, Becky the big titted whore. She broke my god damn heart. Almost like how you broke my arm. She pushed me beyond my limits. I will admit that I had every intention of killing her that night. Shotgun blast right to the head just like Mike, but then things got weird,” I say. I turn my head to look into Nick’s scared eyes, “Things always get weird. Nothing goes as it was planned.” I turn my head back to the makeshift road.

“It wasn’t my plan to kill you tonight. That was a serendipitous occurrence. To be completely honest, and I feel that we can be after all these years. I planned to start my return off with Brian. Then you appeared. It almost makes me believe there is a God up there looking out for me. Then again if they were so concerned with me to take the time. I think they wouldn’t have let you and all those assholes walk all over me. It always seems though that things get weird whenever it is time so, I am always torn. Becky is a prime example. I didn’t want to shove a shotgun barrel up her cunt. It was supposed to be so much simpler than that. But being the whore that she was. It didn’t take much for her to slip off those clothes. Took even less effort to take my cock out. Apparently all it took for her was the right location.” I bring the truck to a stop in the middle of the woods. “I can’t move,” Nick says to me. “The sedative I gave you seems to have that effect. But enough about you,” I say reaching behind the seat of the truck to grab the shotgun. “No, Becky liked dick. She liked it a lot. Lost my virginity and then some that night. Which was kind of a problem. That much evidence just sitting up in there. What was I supposed to do? Blow her fucking head off and let her leak all the evidence all over the place? I might not be the brightest person, but I’m not stupid. Do you know what she said as I slid the barrel into her pussy?” His mouth moves, but no words come out. “I learned way too much in college to not explain,” I joke. “As I slid the barrel deep into her pussy Becky couldn’t help but get turned on. She said to me with her eyes closed, “How can you still be so fucking hard? Fuck me again with that rock hard cock.” So I did. Pulled that trigger and watched her die. Her tits all covered in blood and bouncing. The smell of her flesh cooking against the sides of the barrel. Left nothing but a bloody hole in the center of her mass. If I had to say so myself. She never looked better. Fought every urge to pull that barrel out and fuck her one last time. Could you imagine? My dick pumping away at her and coming out the other side. The juxtaposition of such a thing? If I had one regret in life. That would have to be it.”

I get out and pull the release handle on the driver’s side door and hop out of the truck. Nick sits there paralyzed as I walk around to his side of the vehicle. Body pressed against the door. He falls hard onto the hard ground as I open the door. I hear something crack against the ground. “Opps,” I say before laughing. “I’m sure your head is ringing from that fall, but even in all of that you have to remember like I do. What you said to me that day you pushed me out of the tree. Opps. Opps? You were supposed to be my fucking friend you worthless piece of shit,” I scream into the night. The words echo, but there is no one besides us around to hear them. “I remember so much about our childhood Nick. You really shouldn’t have come home. But I’m so glad that you did. Saved me the hassle of finding your good for nothing ass later.” I grab him by the back of the shirt and drag his ass to the front of the truck the head lights lighting our way. Dropping him with another thud on the ground. I begin to strip him naked. “I just want you to know I won’t enjoy this part of it, but we have to make it look like it should. The dumbass police need to know who this kill belongs too. Same as before. They need to know. The people of this town need to know that I have returned. They need to know that things have started once again,” I say into his ear. He still can’t talk which disappoints me, but his tears are more than enough to make up for it. His tears shine in the light from the headlights. Slow streams of moving water. Life is like that. A slow constant stream of moving water. Sometimes there are rough waters, sometimes the stream moves quicker than you’d like, and sometimes it almost appears as though the stream has stopped forever. But we all know the stream must keep going as long as it exists. I shove the cold hard barrel of the shotgun up his ass. “However this part I will always enjoy,” I say into his ear. Gripping his bare shoulder as I thrust the barrel deep inside him. “Opps, hope I didn’t tear anything too vital,” I laugh. He tries to scream but the pain is so horrendous he can’t seem to make any noise. I pull the trigger of the shotgun filling the cold dead silence of the night with a shattering boom. A crater blows out the back of Nick like one bad shit gone wrong. Images of Becky dance within my skull. Not nearly as beautiful, but enough to satisfy the demon in me. What’s left of Nick burns and sizzles on the barrel of the gun as I pull it out.

“Took you long enough,” Sam’s voice comes from behind me. “Sorry, if this is one kill that I felt the need to enjoy,” I say to him. He throws me a towel and I wipe the blood from my face. “We are going to have to find a different place for Brain,” he informs me. “No one is going to look for him out here,” I tell him as I kick the body next to me. “No, no one is going to look for some asshole that doesn’t live here anymore that is true, but we can’t just drag another victim into this mess,” He says. “No one’s going to be looking for his asshole anymore because it literally doesn’t exist. Oh wait, I think I see a little left on the barrel,” I joke. “Shut the fuck up and listen,” Sam says sternly to me. “Do you want to fuck this up? All this work? All this time?” He shouts at me. A rage builds up in me, “No.” We stare each other down and I think of all the ways I could end him here and now the shotgun still very much in my hand. “Know your place,” he finally says to me. “We are partners in this not enemies. Let’s not fuck this up after all this time,” he says to me in a calm voice. I can still feel the adrenaline and blood pounding against my skull, but I know that he is right. I need to calm down. It is the murder effect. He is not my enemy they are. Each and every one of them that ever laughed at me, tortured me, or held me down. Those that held us down. Sam is my friend I think to myself. Sam has always been my friend I repeat to myself. I take a deep breath to calm down and exhale loudly to break the tension between us. “So what do we do next then?”

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Something Different… Q & A… Nothing Has To Change…

Game 2… We are playing The Ungame once again… Let’s get right into this…

Question 1… If You Could Hang A Motto Or Saying In Every Home In The World, What Would It Be?

These are some long ass questions… maybe it is my fear of speaking in front of people… but if I was playing this game with actual people… I’d have quit on turn 1… This one is easy and hard for me… easy because it comes from the same source and the same song… hard because I don’t know which line I would choose… I can’t even decided which line to tattoo on my body… The two lines tearing me apart are… “Not all martyrs reach divinity but at least you tried,” and “Get off your fucking cross.” Both lines are from the Tool song Eulogy… I have them written on nearly everything… I have “Get off your fucking cross,” written on my keyboard… it helps me write… motivates me… brings me back to reality… reminds me that I’m not fucking special… I’m just me…

and right below where I rest my keyboard I have a piece of tape with the words… “But at least you tried”… Which is actually something I put down during my dark times last year… when I was feeling sorry for myself… feeling like a failure at everything… that line really stuck with me through those dark days… that line helped save me among other things… that line gave me a lot of strength to believe in myself… I will fail… I’m going to fail… I am failing… but at least I fucking tried… what else could I have really wanted out of this day, but a chance?…

Question 2… What Do You Like Most About Yourself?

That I don’t like myself… it allows me to be very critical of myself… allows me to tear myself apart… and not feel bad about it?… I’d say I’m pretty normal in that I don’t like myself… at all really… don’t like my name… don’t like how I think… don’t like what I waste my time doing… if I could tear off my own flesh and slap on a fresh one… I don’t know that I wouldn’t… but at the same time you have to make the best of what you got… so that’s that… if I had to pick a body part though… I’d have to say I have some pretty amazing legs… no one is ever going to see…

I was watching this reality show or documentary when I was younger… what’s the difference anymore?… and there was this guy who was going to get calf implants… because he felt like his legs weren’t the way that they need to be… drama… drama… drama… big reveal… his legs looked basically like mine… except fake… that made me feel pretty good… was still a hundred pounds over weight and ugly… but I had legs someone was willing to pay to get… look for the positive in everything I guess…

Question 3… If You Could Have Been Someone In History, Who Would You Have Been?

You’re look at it… I am history in the flesh… haha… I’m confused by this question actually… am I supposed to pick a person I could have been or am I supposed to pick someone I would have wanted to be?… If I am supposed to pick someone I could have been… then that is stupid… because there is a reason they are part of history… there was something about this person that made them unlike anyone else at the time… in few cases something made them unlike anyone else ever… does that sound crazy?… am I avoiding the question?… is saying Jesus… hitting the nail on the head a little too hard?… : )

Let’s get off that fucking cross for a moment and assume they want me to pick someone in history I would have wanted to have been… how does one make a choice on who they would be… money?… power?… courage?… selflessness?… That is such a hard question to answer… I think I would want to be someone who made a difference in everyone’s lives for the positive… Someone like Martin Luther King Jr… Susan B. Anthony… someone who fought for civil rights… for everyone not just themselves… I think being selfless… is so admiral… should be celebrated more… because we as humans are very selfish… so to be so selfless… to give so much… to care about more than just me… goes against our very nature… I would want to be someone like that… to get in their head and see how they think… see how they see the world… feel how they see the world… even for a day…for a moment… would really be interesting to me…

Question 4… If You Could Change Your Age, What Age Would You Rather Be?

I’m shuffling this cards better next time… way too much reflection for someone who doesn’t even like to look into a mirror… depends… would I just be younger now or would I have to be my younger self?… younger now with all my thoughts and feelings would be ideal for me… though I think my wife and daughter would find it creepy… going back and starting at a different age that I was before would be so shitty… more so if I knew what was already going to happen… through out all the negative shit that happened to me… that I have been through in this life… could you fucking imagine the torment of knowing you had to wait even a year for the internet to become a thing?… holy fucking shit… I’d rip my god damn hair out…

I mean I’d have to actually watch a movie?… and not search Wikipedia to read ahead… I’d have to actually watch a film without knowing the trivia from IMDB?… I could only talk to someone I could find in a phone book and even then I’d have to call 15 Smiths before I got the right one?… Shit I’d have to actually leave my house to do anything?… Anyone born in the last ten years and beyond needs to change how they greet us old timers… “Thank you for your sacrifice”… should be the first words out of their mouths every time they see us… and you are very welcome… (seriously though… how are any of us still alive?)

Question 5… How Would You Describe Peace?

Peace would be… an operating table with an endless supply of bodies… instruments… and time… : )

Question 6… Make A Statement About Beauty.

It’s not what you think it is…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter