Showing posts with label Rain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rain. Show all posts

Friday, February 4, 2022

Good Morning to No One

7:30 in the morning

The sky looks like shit

Wintry mix is pouring down

And I’m getting sick of it


9:30 in the morning

Hit the head, go back to bed

I never once believed in

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead”


11:30 in the morning

Put on clothes, feed the cat

Doom scroll into infinite

And wonder why I feel sad


1:00 in the afternoon

I eat a Hungry, Hungry Man

Breakfast of champions

It’s amazing I can still stand


2:30 in the afternoon

It’s the same old, same old

Watch a video, learn nothing

Spend the rest of the day cold


4:30 in the evening

Will I or will I not?

Another day in stasis

Emotions of a porno bot


6:30 in the evening

Eat my dinner way too fast

More COVID deaths on the news

And it sure won’t be the last


8:30 in the evening

Should I eat a whole pizza pie?

It’s the only thing I can do

To resist the urge to cry


10:00 at night

I’m not ready for the sack

I’d probably wake up anyway

With all this pain in my back


Midnight, oh, midnight

Will you come take me away?

I can’t believe in tomorrow

When it’s another shitty day


2:00 in the morning

My eyes are too heavy

Here comes the final flood

To break down the eyelid levies


Good morning to no one

You couldn’t hear me anyway

Too busy with your own life

Earning peanuts for your pay

Wednesday, March 4, 2020

Hand Massage


A downpour outside, a perfect day for love
So many places I’d love to gently touch
My god, your hands! Cracked and rough
Scarred from the days of being so tough
Jagged nails on the tips of your fingers
Scratching and clawing, the fighting lingers
Palms sore from the openhanded slaps
You gave to men who left you trapped
Your hands have seen much better days
No worries, I’ll soothe the pain away
A few drops of lotion before we play
Running my fingers across your skin
The lights above so hazy and dim
Relax as the cream moistens your hands
A radiant massage from your favorite man
Thumbs encircling your sorest places
Fingers together in romantic laces
Soon your hands will be silky smooth
A joy to hold as we tell each other truths
A pleasure to feel against my muscles
We come together with kisses and nuzzles
I’m glad we could have this time today
We could lay together and forever stay
The world could wait until tomorrow
Another massage to drown your sorrows?
Nothing else to do in this rainy tempest
I’ll be the incubus, you be the temptress
You’re not even real, but I can still dream
Maladaptive fantasies of heaven and cream
Much better than the real world around me
Where Washington rain tries to drown me

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

March Madness


From sunshine to rainfall, a change in the weather
From high to low, we never see it get any better
They call it March Madness for a good reason
This is the time of year for a suicide season
One minute we could be in the highest spirits
Another we beg for mercy and no one hears it
This is the very definition of being alone
Tears pouring down on our faces of stone
Memories from seemingly a long time ago
Come rampaging back, you fight toe to toe
We could convince ourselves over and over
That we’re in control and we are the owners
But it’s always been just a temporary fix
This isn’t Star Wars, these aren’t Jedi tricks
We aren’t superheroes, we don’t gain strength
We barely survive for a shorter time length
Whoever said that our struggles aren’t real
Just doesn’t have any empathy left to feel
It’s as real as a gunshot wound to the chest
Or a blast to the head where there is no vest
It’s as real as wearing a noose as a necktie
It’s as real as watching someone finally die
Don’t laugh us off, let’s all come together
Survive another change in teardrop weather
We are an army, more than you can imagine
We are an army and together we’ll manage
If all you did was survive yet another day
Reward yourself in some wonderful way
A chocolate chip cookie, a tray of hot wings
A Netflix movie that makes you feel things
You’re not alone and none of us really are
It’s time for us all to come out of the dark

Saturday, February 16, 2019

Staying In Bed


To hell with being dutiful
Staying in bed is beautiful
A purring kitty on my chest
He agrees that it’s time to rest
Piano music calms me down
Hypnotized by the gentle sound
Cold breeze blowing outside
Under the blankets is where I hide
Back to work on another day
Couldn’t motivate myself anyway
Stare at the ceiling, think about life
Share my bed with an imaginary wife
Watch movies playing in my head
They don’t make a lick of sense
Heater blasting on a winter night
Makes resisting sleep an uphill fight
But I can’t stay here forever and ever
Despite the drop in barometric pressure
Another day waits on the other side
That way you can’t say I never tried
Still walking around like the undead
Not a whole lot going on in my head
A few more hours until it gets dark
Until rainwater floods the public park
Until the moon shines down upon us all
Until face down on the bed is where I fall
Disconnect my telephone line
Tomorrow everything will be just fine
Like it is almost every damn day
No sense in asking me if I’m okay

Saturday, December 22, 2018

Walk in the Rain


The nighttime rainfall tapped against Cassandra Bride’s office window while she sipped her peppermint tea. Christmas lights strewn above her ceiling illuminated an otherwise dark atmosphere. She smiled while relaxing into her favorite office chair. Such a peaceful time of night. She should have been in bed with a Lilian Jackson Braun novel and a kitty. Deep inside, she knew this conversation had to take place and it couldn’t wait until a brighter morning.

She took one last sip of tea before there was a knock on her door. “Come in,” she said. Slogging through the office in a soaking wet hooded jacket was Jarrod Crews, a young man with short black hair and a Seether T-shirt underneath his rainwear. He removed his coat and hung it up on the rack in the corner, not even bothering to dry it off. His social skills were always a mess, so at least a drippy coat was forgivable.

“Sorry I’m late,” said Jarrod while taking a seat across from his acting teacher.

Cassandra laid her cup of tea on the desk and waved as if it was no big deal. “It’s not your fault, Jarrod. It’s wet out there. If I would have known you didn’t have a car, I would have dispatched another student to give you a ride. Any moment now we should start getting thunder storms.”

Jarrod’s eyes darted from side to side while he fidgeted with hangnails on his thumb. “So…do you want to tell me what this is all about?”

“Of course, of course I do. But first I want to thank you for agreeing to see me tonight in my office. I’m sorry you had to walk through a rainstorm, but this actually is a pretty important topic.” Cassandra cleared her throat and straightened the straps on her black dress before leaning forward with her hands supporting her chin.

“Am…am I in trouble?” asked Jarrod with a jittery voice, either from the cold weather outside or his own nervousness.

Cassandra breathed a deep sigh and hesitated before starting the necessary conversation. “Jarrod…is has come to my attention that you have some ulterior motives for signing up for my acting class. Like the rest of your classmates, you probably saw me in the made-for-TV movie My Gift to You, where I played a demonic seductress. The only difference is, you took your fandom a little too far. You can deny it all you want, but Mr. Crews…I believe the only reason you signed up for my class was so you could be close to me. You have no other classes in your schedule. This is your first quarter at Kelly University. The pieces are all there. You got caught…by me.”

Jarrod nearly jumped out of his skin when the first lightning bolt flashed outside. His breathing was labored, but for a far different reason than the combination electromancy and aeromancy going on. “Who told you all of this?”

“Your own mother, Jarrod. She called here the other day to have a chat with me about your…extracurricular activities. She read me passages from your diary. She logged onto your computer and found pictures that have no earthly business being there. Jarrod, this is not okay. I don’t feel safe around you anymore. You know where this is leading, right?” Tiny droplets welled up in the student’s eyes. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Jarrod slapped his legs and gave a short, sorrowful laugh through his tears. “I mean…you’re not wrong. You caught me red-handed. So, that’s that, right? I should just go back to my dorm and pack my suitcase?”

Just as Jarrod stood up, Cassandra motioned with her hand for him to sit back down. “Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah. Not just yet. There’s a lot more to discuss than just a simple expulsion.”

The student slowly sat back down and chewed on his fingertips while smiling sadly and shaking his head. “What else is there to discuss? You have everything you need. My own mother basically ratted me out to you.” Jarrod held his face in his hand and sobbed a little bit. “You’re getting way too much pleasure out of this, Mrs. Bride.”

“You’re wrong, Jarrod. There’s absolutely no joy in this for me. For all intents and purposes, you were a hardworking student who gave A+ performances when you needed to. This hurts me just as much as it hurts you.”

The crumbling student man-spread his legs and tucked his head down as he tried to find the resolve to continue this conversation. The wetness in his face, the redness in his cheeks, he was easy pickings for Cassandra Bride. She had to admit that he put on a hell of a performance, yet again.

“I’m not talking about you expelling me from school. That part I get,” blubbered Jarrod through heavy breaths. “But why did you have to go behind my back like that? You got my own mother to throw me under the bus. For what?”

“She didn’t throw you under the bus, Jarrod. She called me that day because she’s worried about you. Like I said, this isn’t just an open and shut case that can be solved with expulsion. Aside from your sexual obsession with me, there’s more than she told me about you.”

“Oh god,” stammered Jarrod as he chewed on his fingertips some more.

Taking a sip of hot tea, Cassandra said, “Your mother tells me that you have a hard time making new friends. She says you’re depressed and isolated all the time, so instead of forming real relationships, you hover around me and feed your fantasies that way. She tells me that it’s been a while since you’ve seen your therapist.”

“Okay, enough! Enough!” snapped Jarrod while holding his hands up defensively. Another lightning strike flashed in the sky, but he refused to be deterred. “I get it! I’m an emotional train wreck! And yes, I do have a hard time meeting new people. You know why? Because every time I think I have something, my mom and dad take it away from me when they move to a new place. And then what do I do? Start over? Take another chance? Bullshit!”

“You know, Jarrod, you can do something about that. You’re old enough to make your own decisions. If you don’t want to move around to different cities all the time, then you can just…”

“I can just what? Find my own place? Have you seen how much an apartment costs these days? Have you seen the job market lately? There’s nothing out there for me, unless you consider sleeping at a bus station and begging for handouts to be good living.”

Cassandra set her tea down again and wheeled her office chair towards a crumbling Jarrod Crews. She placed her hand on his shoulder and elicited an, “Oh god!” response from him.

“Listen,” she said. “I know it’s tough out there. When I left my acting career and became a teacher, I didn’t know anybody here at Kelly University. I was scared just as you are now. But ultimately, you have two choices. You can move back in with your parents and have financial security and love for as long as you need it…or you can swallow your pride and find potential roommates with the friends you make here. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Jarrod. Either choice is a valid one, but when you make that decision, you need to reap all of the benefits that come with it. I get it. You need love. We all do.”

Jarrod wiped the tears from his eyes with his shirt sleeve and said, “I know you told me that we have a lot to discuss…but this is getting really fucking awkward, Mrs. Bride. I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m not even sure expulsion would be a bad thing for me. If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll just grab my coat and fuck off forever.”

Just as Jarrod stood up to grab his coat, Cassandra offered, “Are you sure you don’t want a ride back to your dorm? Trust me, you don’t want to walk in the rain a second time tonight.”

The lonely student looked down at his shoes and sighed. “You know what? I think I prefer getting hit by lightning over having another awkward conversation with you, Mrs. Bride.”

An even louder thunderbolt shook the skies as well as Jarrod’s foundations as he jumped skittishly yet again. Cassandra asked, “Are you sure about that, Jarrod?”

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled sadly. “Well, you know what they say: you’re more likely to be killed by a terrorist than you are to be struck by lightning.”

Cassandra smiled amusedly. “No, no, no, Jarrod, you’ve got that bass ackwards. You’re more likely to be hit by lightning than you are to be killed by a terrorist.”

“…Really?....Oh…Well…What if it’s an incel terrorist?”

“Then your chances slightly increase, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is, I’d rather you allow me to give you a ride back to your dorm instead of getting rained on again.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you the one who said you didn’t feel comfortable being around me?” asked Jarrod.

Cassandra sighed and tucked her head while her now ex-student put his jacket on and ventured outside in the pouring rain. “Was I too hard on him?” she asked herself. Not even the delicious flavor of her peppermint tea could relax her on this one. Everything that could have gone wrong in this “important conversation” did go wrong. She lost a great student, Jarrod lost an opportunity to open up, and everything got incredibly awkward. But Murphy’s Law didn’t stop there…

Another bolt of lightning tore up the sky, but this time the sounds of Jarrod wiggling and screaming echoed throughout the rainy weather. “Oh my god!” gasped Cassandra as she dropped her now shattered teacup on the floor. Even wearing high heels, she managed to bolt out of her office and lend her help to a now jittering Jarrod Crews.

There he laid convulsing violently with wide eyes and a foaming mouth. Now it was Cassandra Bride’s turn to lose a few tears as she held her hand to her mouth in shock. She knelt beside him and cradled his head in her lap. “I’m so sorry, Jarrod! I’m sorry!”

Even with a shivering body, Jarrod managed to form a complete and coherent sentence with a smile on his face. “So this is what it’s like to be held by somebody…I never knew that before…” Cold, miserable, and electrocuted, Jarrod’s head flopped over and his eyes rolled back in his head. Cassandra placed two fingers on his neck vein and felt no pulse surging through him, just electricity. He died taking a little piece of heaven with him before he went.

Cassandra teared up some more as she hugged Jarrod Crews’s lifeless skull. During her moment of apologetic cuddling, she noticed two wire prongs attached to his chest that led to a stun gun lying on the ground next to him. Scratched onto the weapon was a message as clear as the day that would come: “Incel Pride Worldwide”.

The actress’s sorrow turned into jaw-quivering fear at the revelation that her student was murdered. She could hear footsteps running away on the concrete sidewalk, but it was too dark to make out who they belonged to. By the time the perp was illuminated by the streetlamp, he had already turned a corner and hightailed it out of there.

What if there were more of them? Who else signed up for Cassandra Bride’s class under false pretenses? Was Jarrod Crews the only intended victim? What if…she was next? These thoughts raced violently through her head, which was now cradled in her own hands in a lame attempt to contain her fear. “I’ve got to get the hell out of here…I can’t stay anymore…”

Thursday, November 9, 2017

King of Elves and Trees

Every strike of the axe against the Black Forest trees sent a shiver of rage up and down Saito Kabaka’s spine. The gigantic lumberjack’s swings created the deepest wooshing noises and seemed capable of tearing off a person’s head with one slice. But instead of human heads, the massive battleaxe chipped away quickly and efficiently at the thick redwoods. Saito watched from the bushes with a contorted frown, dying on the inside with every chop. This was ecocide. This was murder. The lumberjack wasn’t just chopping down trees; he was violating the spirits of this very forest.

After a while of nausea and gritted teeth, Saito couldn’t stand idly by any longer. When the elf samurai chucked one of his daggers, he forgot instantly that this man-beast was twice his size and ten times as lethal. The dagger missed its mark, but the flannel shirt and jeans wearing titan stumbled back a few paces and sucked in air at a rapid cadence. Saito’s fiery eyes bore a hole through the giant’s nervous baby blues. Decked out in golden leather armor, donning a glowing green crown of plant roots, and drawing his slender katana, the forest guardian made his presence and fury known.

“I don’t intrude into your home and eat your food. I don’t laze on your bed and fuck your wife. I don’t snatch your valuables from underneath your booger-encrusted schnoz. So why then do you believe it’s acceptable to come to my home and cut down my trees?” asked Saito while pointing his blade at the lumberjack. He slashed at the air and continued his slithery oratory with, “This forest is not your urban dystopia. It doesn’t exist so that you could build fancy hotels and burger joints for overfed human scumbags! Take that piece of shit you call a weapon and leave this place before I rip your intestines out and lynch you with them from the same tree you tried to cut down!”

The baldheaded beast of a man’s eyes darted frantically in every direction while cold sweat poured down his forehead. And then the shtick was over when he laughed his ass off and slapped his thick knees with an echoing thud. “Are you kidding me? A teeny tiny elf like you is going to lynch me with my own intestines? Goddamn, you’re a funny motherfucker!” The yuks poured out of his mouth like verbal diarrhea as he struggled to say, “Listen, man: that environmental bullshit is overrated. Take off that stupid hat; it looks fucking ridiculous on you! You might as well walk around with a salad bowl on your head!”

The lumberjack’s chuckle-filled tirade was cut off by a flying shuriken that narrowly missed his ear. But instead of feigning fear again, he dropped his axe and gave an even less sincere double slap on his cheeks with a wide open mouth.

“Perfect timing, Tifa, as usual,” smiled Saito. Floating down to the dirt like a feather was the silken dress wearing, golden haired female elf counterpart Tifa Croft, armed with claw bracers around her wrists and wearing a plant root crown like her fellow guardian. The two of them shared a peck on the lips much to the overdramatic coughing dismay of the seven-foot lumberjack.

“You guys actually fuck in this forest?” the man giant asked. “Is that how these trees grow, by the two of you sprinkling your seeds all over the ground?”
Tifa folded her arms and treated the lumberjack to a ball-shrinking death stare. “You have the sense of humor of a fucking five year old and probably the intelligence of one too. Saito here is the King of Elves and Trees and I am his Queen. Respect the crowns, you ignorant little shit!”

The lumberjack waved his arm dismissively and scoffed, “Well, I see a whole lot of trees out here, but very many elves, so I guess this ugly ass forest could do with some urban development.” He heaved his axe in the air and pointed at various parts of the forest with his weapon. “We can put a Mickey D’s over there, a Chicas Bonitas over there, and maybe a school all the way over there. You liberal whack jobs like schools, right?”

Saito swung his katana in the air and slithered, “And what do you plan on teaching this new generation of ignoramuses: how to eat a whole bucket of fried chicken in less than thirty seconds? Maybe that’s something you can teach the elves of this forest, who will be here sooner than you think.”

“You’d better hope those little pointy-eared fags run for the hills,” smirked the lumberjack while leaning his face into Saito’s. “I wasn’t planning on committing genocide today, but I just might change my mind if the two of you don’t fuck off and leave me to my work. I’m getting a lot of money for this project and I’ll be damned if you two hippies rip it away from me and my family! Remember the name of Rudiger Seran, but fuck it, you two are going to call me Daddy by the time I’m done with you!”

Rudiger threw the first swing of his axe and would have covered the whole forest in blood if Saito and Tifa didn’t duck out of the way in time. The two elves rolled and flipped their way out of every slash that the giant threw. They bounced off of trees hand in hand and found refuge at the top branches. They smiled down upon Rudiger while the lumberjack shouted, “You two cowards better get your asses down here and fight me before I cut this fucker down!”

Saito whispered in Tifa’s pointy ear, “You’ve got the supplies up here right?”

The lovely assassin brushed her hair away and pulled several pinecones out of an otherwise empty bird nest. She grinned, “It wouldn’t be the same without them.” With a wink, a nod, and a kiss, Tifa threw one of the pinecones down upon an unsuspecting Rudiger. The biomass exploded in a flash bang upon making contact with Mr. Seran’s thick skull. The giant hopped and head-banged in pain while belting every swear word known in the English language.

“You’re the best queen a man could ask for,” grinned Saito as he and Tifa threw more flash bang pinecones down upon their assailant. Rudiger tried to smack some of them away like he was playing baseball and managed to hit a few homers out in the distance. Others bounced off of his massive arms and legs while popping like firecrackers. The mighty Seran had struck out and his body ached with redness and scars. The King and Queen hugged each other and laughed like children.

Bruised skin wasn’t the only reason Rudiger was seeing red. He growled through clenched teeth and smacked himself on the cheek so many times he actually bled. His rage became evident in the way he swung his axe at the tree, ripping larger chunks out of the redwood and creating deeper wooshing noises. “Uh-oh!” Tifa quipped while she and Saito held hands and leapt to the next tree just in time for Rudiger’s ecocidal victim to crash to the ground.

Saito’s heart pounded in his chest like a war drum and the cold wetness of Tifa’s hand brought chills racing through his own body. She shook slightly and prompted the king to ask, “Are you okay, my love?”

“I…I think so,” Tifa stuttered before the branch underneath her cracked and crunched, causing her to drop to the forest ground with a resounding thud  Saito tried to hold out his hand and grab her, but all he could do was yell, “No!” as his wife crashed and burned. She lied there in the dirt breathing heavily and coughing up a geyser of blood.

Rudiger hung his battleaxe over his shoulder and strutted around Tifa with a shit-eating grin. “I guess that vegan diet isn’t helping you lose enough weight. And people call me a fat ass!” joked the lumberjack while slapping his knee and chuckling again.

Watching Rudiger Seran belittle his wife clouded Saito’s mind with scathing, bloody thoughts. As defenseless as she was, she still threw her claws around in the air hoping to hit something. Her weakness multiplied when Rudiger stomped on Tifa’s hand and crunched it so that it sounded more violent than when he whacked down the tree. Her screams of agony and shame echoed throughout the forest and caused nearby birds to fly away in fear. She tried to slash Rudiger’s thick ankles with her other claw, but that got stomped on too until there was just a bloody heap underneath his work boots.

Saito tried to remain calm and wait for his perfect opportunity to stealthily strike. But Tifa’s screams filled his gut with nuclear heat. Rudiger’s arrogant laughter filled his nerves with flaming gasoline. The more his heart pumped diesel, the more he forgot about the importance of his samurai training. With katana firmly grasped in both hands, he screamed like a demon and leapt on top of Rudiger with the intent to slash him in two vertically.

Saito could feel the ground hurtling at him at a million miles per hour. The landing was going to break his ankles, but not nearly as badly as he was going to break every bone in Rudiger’s body. And then the lumberjack swung his axe and snapped Saito in two from the waist down. The elf samurai could hear his wife roaring his name in pain as his vision went black and his wrecked body bounced off the tree with a deafening splat.

Even as what was left of him slid slowly and slimily down the tree, he could recall Rudiger asking in a mocking tone where all of the elves were at. The now pouring rain soothed Saito’s burning wounds, but it was already too late for the King of Elves and Trees.

The plant root crown slipped off of his sloppy skull and buried itself into the earth below. The rain poured down violently enough to represent the emotions of Mother Nature herself. She continued to weep as Rudiger thoughtlessly cut down more and more of her trees with vicious whacks while mocking her with cries of, “Where are your elves now, bitch?!” Tears of ecocidal agony turned into monsoons and floods. The crowns formerly worn by Tifa and Saito were drenched with nutrition as they began to take root underneath the forest.

The more Rudiger laughed his ass off, the more the roots spread across the ground. Even in the chilling rain, the arrogant giant chopped and chopped like his paycheck was that important too him. Trees crashed to the earth with sickening pounds, so much so that Rudiger was almost done with his work. But as he jokingly wiped away forehead sweat, he took a look around him and saw that his work was only just beginning.

“What the fuck?” he whispered as the tree stumps grew even more beautiful plants. Not redwoods, not roses, not berry-covered bushes, but the one species Rudiger kept asking for this entire time. Ask and ye shall receive in the form of naked green-skinned elves with blistering red eyes and thorn-covered swords. One by one they blossomed from the stumps and groaned like an army of zombies. Rudiger dropped his axe and cowered on the soaked ground, shivering for reasons other than the temperature.


The pathetic display did nothing to back off the hungry doppelganger elves as they chanted in monstrous unison, “You will feed us! You will feed us! You will feed us!” They closer they marched, the brighter their neon red eyes glowed and the more Rudiger shivered and quaked in his clumsy body. And then, the King and Queen’s beloved army of avengers dined upon the giant’s flesh like the entire menu at one of the lumberjack’s planned Mickey D’s. Rudiger’s flesh tasted more delicious than chocolate cake, meatier than a twenty-pound steak, and juicier than a bottle of Ocean Spray. So much for that vegan diet that Tifa Croft always enjoyed.

Friday, November 3, 2017

Gorgon Death Bitch

The clock on Steve Jones’s dashboard struck midnight while the rain pounded on his windshield like hammers. He clutched the steering wheel with a monstrous grip knowing what was waiting for him beyond that apartment door. He could faintly hear Kathryn Marsh’s radio blasting the coincidental tune “The Thunder Rolls” by All That Remains. How funny would it be if those lyrics about a cheating husband influenced her rage when Steve walked through the door? The last time he sniffed around, there wasn’t a trace of cologne because there was no other woman. But still…

Steve took one last swig of his Jack Daniels and let out an ogre burp before exiting the car for what would be the longest walk of his life. It was only one flight of stairs, but with the alcohol turning his brain into mush, he might as well have been walking on an endless treadmill. He limped up each individual step while maintaining a chokehold on the railing. He dared not peek down to know just how high off the ground he was. Instead he fixed his short brown hair and brushed off his gray hoodie and black jeans before slipping his key in the door and walking through the gates of hell.

“Where the fuck have you been?” belted Kathryn as she sprawled across the couch in her pink fleece robe while her King Charles puppy licked her hands. “Do you have any goddamn clue what time it is? Jesus, you smell like a brewery!”

“Kathryn, now’s not the time for this dramatic crap. I’ve had a long day and all I want to do is get in bed and forget all about it,” begged Steve while holding his hands up defensively.

He stumbled towards the bedroom slowly and lazily when Kathryn shoved the puppy off of her chest and leaped up to block her boyfriend’s path with her arms akimbo. “I’ve been waiting for you all day long. We were supposed to have dinner together and then go see a movie.” She took in the scent of booze with a scowl and said, “You obviously had other plans.”

“You know what?” slurred Steve. “I did have other plans. Plans that didn’t involve coming home to you every night and getting chewed out for stupid shit! Ever since we got engaged, it’s been the same: fighting, fighting, and more fucking fighting! So excuse me if I don’t feel like hanging out with a crazy chick who wants to keep me on a leash!”

Kathryn shoved Steve and sent him careening backwards. He would have landed on his ass if he didn’t have a firm grip on the back of the couch. Towering over him, she snapped, “We never do anything together anymore! I have to keep you on a short leash because I can’t trust you to be there for me! We’re supposed to get married soon and now you’re going to ruin it for us by drinking yourself to death! I’m sick of this shit, Steve!”

Amidst rapid-fire dog barking, Steve pulled himself to his feet, but not without tripping forward and almost landing face first into Kathryn’s chest. “Kitty-Kat, just shut the fuck up before you make my headache worse than it already is.”

Kathryn slapped Steve across the face and sent him rolling onto the couch. “How can you talk to me that way?!” she angrily sobbed. “The Steve I know would never have said that to anyone, let alone his own fiancé! You’ve changed! You’ve fucking changed! You can either check into rehab or I’ll drop this wedding like a bad habit!” When the dog continued to voice his opinion, his owner shouted, “Shut up, you stupid dog!” and earned a whine and a crouch from the little pooch.

Steve’s burning fury caused him to grab one of the couch pillows and thrash everything in sight with it, whether it be the coffee table, the TV, or Kathryn herself. He threw the soft weapon to the ground and shouted, “That’s it! I’ve had it with you! You want to end this relationship?! You want to throw it all away over stupid shit?! You got it! Good riddance! I’d be better off jacking it to internet porn than spending another night in the sack with you, you gorgon death bitch!”

Kathryn’s cheeks flushed into a brighter shade of pink than her bathrobe. Tears poured from her eyes with more intensity than the weather outside. “The Thunder Rolls” meant more to her now than it did when she was waiting for Steve to come home. She curled up into a ball on the floor and dampened her knees with sorrowful liquids. Steve wouldn’t be deterred by such a “pitiful” display as he crossed his arms and stood over her like a giant terrorizing villagers. He wasn’t staggering anymore despite the strong scent of alcohol blowing around the house like disgusting perfume.

“How could you?” Kathryn whimpered. “Why would you say that to me? Don’t you love me anymore? Does our marriage mean nothing to you?” Even with the biblical flood of tears, Steve hadn’t moved an inch. It was only when poisonous snakes grew from her scalp that he slowly staggered backwards and fell on his ass.

Now it was Steve’s turn to shed tears of misery and fear. “What the hell?” he asked as the dog’s barking picked up steam yet again.

The snakes in Kathryn’s hair slithered, spit venom, and chewed at the air. Her skin whitened to a pale shade of marble. When she nipped up and roared to the sky, neon red lights shot from her eyes and turned every fly whirling above her into little pebbles. Their corpses rolled across the ground like a game of craps. Steve had already turned around and covered his head so that he didn’t have to look into her eyes. Her demonic voice, on the other hand, was as clear as day. “You want a gorgon death bitch?! I’ll give you one, you little shit! You’re going to put a ring on me whether you want to or not!”

The shivering and cowering Steve opened his eyes ever so slightly to see Kathryn’s shadow creeping up on him. The snakes in her hair all made a lung for him and he rolled out of the way just in time. “Come on, Stevie-Boy!” the gorgon taunted. “I thought you liked putting poison in your body! You do enough of it at the bar, so why not here at home?”

The snakes lunged at him again and one of them managed to snag the back of his hoodie. Steve screamed in almighty terror as he ran behind the couch, leaving a piece of his clothing behind for the snakes to snack on. He tried to run towards the bedroom, but his drunken stupor made athleticism close to impossible. He tripped to the ground and crawled across the carpet like a soldier trying to avoid barbed wire. His heart thundered at a million beats per minute. Sweat and tears rained off of him like a dam after an earthquake. His body trembled and his bladder unleashed another rainstorm upon the ground. He even managed to feel pity for the barking dog behind him.

“I’m sorry, Kathryn! I’m so sorry! Just leave me the fuck alone!” Steve pleaded through a swamp of tears.

He felt a sharp presence clutch the back of his hair and yank him up to his knees. Those same claws mockingly massaged his shoulders while Kathryn whispered sweet nothings in his ears, her cacophony complimented by hissing snakes. “Oh, Steve. You’re so cute when you’re shaking in terror. I knew there was a reason my family loved you so much. They kept pushing me to marry you and now we can be happy together at last! Just you and me, nobody else! No beer, no drugs, no shitty music, just a lifetime of sweet symphonies! Doesn’t that sound like paradise, my darling?”

Even with his mind racing beyond the galaxy itself, Steve could make out the sound of the little puppy gnawing on Kathryn’s ankle, to which the gorgon growled and unleashed her savage stone stare upon the little guy. Steve and Kathryn yelled, “No!” together, which would be the only thing they had in common at this point in the argument.

Steve slowly turned his blistered face to see Kathryn on her knees cradling her stone statue puppy and sobbing once again. “Why?” she blubbered. “Why do I keep doing this to the ones I love? I didn’t mean to, damn it! I just want a happy life! I just want a husband and a puppy-duppy! Is that too much to ask for?”

With his eyebrows furrowed like lightning bolts, the thunder flashed in Steve’s eyes as he saw his opportunity to end this madness. He leapt to his feet, yanked the stone dog out of Kathryn’s hands, and before she could turn around, he smashed the petrified animal over her head multiple times. She screamed in bloody agony while her snakes hissed and nibbled at Steve’s arms and hands. He didn’t give a fuck about the poison or the blood.

A flash of red burned across his retinas as he smashed Kathryn’s head over and over again. The blood splatters and dead snakes were giving him a funny feeling in his wet pants. His eyes bulged and so did his underwear. He laughed like a psychopath as he bathed in the sweet venom of his now dying fiancé. It felt as warm and relaxing to his aching body as a Jacuzzi. He hammered her again and again until the stone dog spilt in two and Kathryn’s head was a pool of shattered bones and splattered brains. For the first time in this relationship, Steve could breathe easy, but he did so with a deep, raspy throat.

His moment of sweet nirvana was interrupted by the sound of his apartment door being kicked down and police officers yelling, “What the hell?!”

Steve’s bulging eyes and psychotic demeanor faded into soberness when he peeked up at the cops. His heart sank to his feet when he saw that Kathryn’s gorgon appearance was no more and the puppy’s stone body was a bloody heap. Beyond the rancid smell of blood and guts, Steve could still identify the alcohol on his own breath and clothes. Goddamn, that was some strong booze.


The officers at the door gazed at Steve with horrified shock and arms akimbo. All Steve could do was shrug his shoulders and say, “It’s not what it looks like.”

Monday, February 20, 2017

A Wonderful Day to Take a Nap

CHORUS
It’s a wonderful day to take a nap
With a cute little kitty on your lap
A wonderful day to take a snooze
Dream away your moodiest blues

VERSE 1
The rain is pouring, the puppy is snoring
Everything else is delightfully boring
Lullaby music is playing so softly
Sleep like you’re in the arms of your mommy
Under the blanket so cuddly and warm
Keeping you safe from the rainiest storm
Counting the sheep as you fall asleep
Snuggling with them feels so sweet

EXTENDED CHORUS
It’s a wonderful day to take a nap
With a cute little kitty on your lap
A wonderful day to take a snooze
Dream away your moodiest blues
A wonderful day to rest your bones
Turn off the TV, unplug your phone
A wonderful day to have a dream
Until the sun shines its bright beams

VERSE 2
Pour yourself a glass of warm milk
Wrap yourself in a blanket of silk
Snuggle with puppies and kitties
Whether they’re big or just itty-bitty
When you snooze, nobody will lose
Stay in your bed as long as you choose
Listen to raindrops on your window
Listen to the mighty wind blow

EXTENDED CHORUS 2
It’s a wonderful day to take a nap
The weather outside wills start to sap
A wonderful day to take a snooze
Until the sunshine brings colorful hues
A wonderful day to rest your head
In the softest and warmest of beds
A wonderful day to snore and drool
Until your pillow becomes a pool

VERSE 3
Rock-a-bye baby on the treetop
The wind and rain won’t stop
Come inside for a place to hide
Under the covers, you sweetie pie
We’re one big cuddly family
Of animals and sweet little peas
It’s a wonderful day to nod off

In the beddy-bye ever so soft

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Lazy Day

VERSE 1
In this world of necromancy
Another rainy day is passing
Nothing to do but fall asleep
For wasted time I will weep
Laziness has taken over me
Blurry vision is all I can see
Novocain on my poor brain
Saturday goes down the drain

CHORUS
If hard work is everything
Show me the tools to bring
Give me the lyrics to sing
I’ll fly with my own wings
If boredom is the sickness
End it with some quickness
Lazy days drain life away
In this bed is where I lay

VERSE 2
In this world inside my head
Everything is buried and dead
Coffins make the best of beds
Ashes to ashes is what I said
Dust to dust, in fire we trust
Light the fuse, ignite the lust
Nothing wants to move today
Slightest twitch is too much pain

CHORUS
If hard work is everything
Show me the tools to bring
Give me the lyrics to sing
I’ll fly with my own wings
If boredom is the sickness
End it with some quickness
Lazy days drain life away
In this bed is where I lay

BRIDGE
Writing my life down on pages
Speaking in the tongues of sages
Rocking on the biggest stages
Lazing until the final ages
Recovery mode is not an excuse
But it’s the one I always choose
Heavy eyelids and a heavy heart
Continue to tear my art apart

VERSE 3
There’s always tomorrow to cure today’s sorrow
Because I know that time is always mine to borrow
Procrastination is a form of indoctrination
Convincing myself that this is my destination
So many of my allies depend on my actions
But all I can give them is less than a fraction
End the day by falling down on my face
Fuck necromancy and fuck this whole place!

CHORUS
If hard work is everything
Show me the tools to bring
Give me the lyrics to sing
I’ll fly with my own wings
If boredom is the sickness
End it with some quickness
Lazy days drain life away

In this bed is where I lay

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Gray Days

***GRAY DAYS***

If you live in the Pacific Northwest like I do, you would have noticed the overwhelming number of gray days during the summer season. Hell, it might be happening in other parts of the country or even the world, but Pacific Northwest weather is notorious for catering to gray days. It could be sunny one minute and pouring down rain to the point of flood conditions the next.

Anybody who knows the old me knows I would have constantly complained about gray rainy weather. It’s not the best to go walking in, especially if I’m thirsty for a bubbly beverage and the convenience store is around the corner. Now that I’m 31 years old and have a more mature outlook on life, I’ve learned to love the gray days, even during the summer season. If I was that thirsty all the time, I could just make a pitcher of ice cold iced tea. Yum-yum-yum! If I was so bored that I needed to go for a walk to clear my head, there’s nothing stopping me from bumming a ride from my family to the YMCA. They have a jogging track upstairs and a shallow swimming pool on the bottom floor; how hard could that be to comprehend?

I didn’t realize until recently how wonderful gray days can be for getting creative work done. Or if I just want to be lazy that day, I could just take a nap while there’s new age music playing in the background. Smokey seems to agree with the latter ten times out of ten. The low barometric pressure during gray days can make anyone sleepy enough to want a nap because of the lack of oxygen, which is a major source of energy for the human body. If you feel sleepy, give into it. The creative work will always be there for you when you’re ready for it. If you’re in school, however, it’s probably a good idea to turn your work in on time and in tiptop condition.

And then there are people who enjoy running around in rainy weather. The cold rain definitely feels good on the skin after a long day of exercise. I remember going to a Linkin Park concert with my brother James at the Tacoma Dome in 2003. After we jumped up and down for a lot of their songs, the rain felt so good to us that we didn’t bother putting our jackets back on. That’s part of the reason why I’m not worried about rainy weather happening on the same day as my July and August concerts, which take place in an outdoor amphitheater. If Korn, Rob Zombie, and In This Moment get my cardio going for god knows how many hours, I’m going to love that sweet cold rain.

It’s true, folks: I have nothing better to write a journal about than gray days. I don’t know what else I could say about them, so I’m just going to sign off and give you all updates on my creative projects.


***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***

The new contest got started this past Tuesday and the prompt for the week is “Piece By Piece”. For the second week in a row, my short story is a modern day drama and will therefore be shelved under “American Darkness 2: Black State”. It’s called “Toy Trauma” and it goes like this:


CHARACTERS:

Kevin Hunt, Toy-Loving Child
Marty Hunt, Kevin’s Father

PROMPT CONFORMITY: Marty dismantles the action figure piece by piece.

SYNOPSIS: Ever since gaining custody of Kevin in a nasty divorce, Marty has been stressed out to where even the smallest incidents send him into a screaming rage. One morning during breakfast, Kevin brings his favorite action figure to the table with him and plays with it a little too loudly for his father’s tastes. After several unanswered warnings to his son, Marty grabs the action figure and snaps its arms and legs off. The toy abuse leaves Kevin in a fit of tears and even causes him to say that he hates his father. Is this enough for Marty to realize how far off the deep end he’s gone or will he always be a sourpuss?


***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

I’m sure you all noticed the recent uploads of Rook Maxwell and Edward Glass and hopefully you’ve enjoyed them. Coming up next is a character from the villain department. He’s Jax Nightshade and he’s a dark paladin from “Medicine Man”, a short story I submitted to one of the WSS’s monthly contests. For some reason they aren’t doing monthly contests anymore. I don’t know if the admins forgot or if they’re legitimately discontinuing them due to a lack of activity. Either way, the Medicine Man himself is going to be immortalized. Be on the lookout for a dark paladin badass!


***READING TASKS***

As of today, I have three different authors to (beta) read from: Andy Peloquin (Lament of the Fallen), Marie Krepps (What Money Can’t Buy), and Zero Urrea (Rake). I have no problem with the workload, because when I have the energy, I can get anything done in record time. The past few days haven’t been kind to me in terms of energy. Sleep apnea had really been kicking my ass and making me too sluggish to get anything done. To those who rely on my help, I’m sorry. But I can safely say that I’m doing something about my lack of energy. I requested an appointment with my sleep study doctor and he’s going to teach me how to use a CPAP machine, which will give me oxygen while I’m sleeping and my windpipe is flat. I’m also going to start going to the gym more often with James. My workout will start off with thirty minutes of walking around the track and end with weightlifting. So far, it seems to be paying off. Let’s keep that shit going!


***WRESTLING QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Enzo Amore is so skinny he could hang glide with a Dorito. He already looks like a bird.”


-Jerry “The King” Lawler-

Thursday, November 19, 2015

High Winds of Death

***HIGH WINDS OF DEATH***

If you’ve been wondering what I’ve been up to the past two days, I can guarantee you that I didn’t go off the grid on purpose. I’m not like that father from the Little Caesar’s commercial who wants to live in the woods because ordering pizza online is “too frustrating”. All that heartache over a goddamn pizza. God, I hate commercialism.

The real reason I’ve been away from the internet is because in my home state of Washington, there were 25 MPH winds blowing southward. Trees were knocked over, houses have been destroyed, streets have been flooded, and many homes and businesses were without electricity, mine included. I went without electricity for a little over 24 hours. All I had to keep me entertained was my MP3 player and conversing with my 11-year-old niece Reina. I wanted to read my book, but without electricity, there’s no light to shine on the pages.

I probably shouldn’t be bitching and complaining too much, because my electricity eventually returned and I’m a happy man once more. I’m more worried about the people who no longer have stable homes and are trapped by the floods. It got so bad that Governor Jay Inslee declared a State of Emergency, which means National Guard members are going to assist those who’ve been displaced by this harsh weather. I can withstand 24 hours of boredom, but those less fortunate deserve your thoughts and love more than I do.

I’ve lived in Washington State from 1991-1993 and again from 1996 to the present day. The Pacific Northwest has always been known for its bipolar weather. It’s insufferably hot in the summertime and damned near devastating in the wintertime. Don’t get me wrong, Washington is still a beautiful place to live. But for all the times that Mother Nature gets even with us, it becomes more and more important to have a plan in case the electricity goes out, you’re stranded at home, or you don’t even have a home.

Even more than that, it’s important not to lose our humanity towards the less fortunate. If a family has been displaced by this kind of weather and is currently living on the streets, don’t shout at them for “taking handouts” and “not getting a job”. Show them your love. Give them hope. Even something as simple as a twenty dollar bill can make a difference in that family’s life. And one more thing: if you were displaced by bad weather, you’d want “handouts” too despite all of the pride you keep within you. If you had a choice between living in a low-cost apartment and having some disposable income along with food stamps over living on the streets and being closer to death, you’d choose the former every time. Admit it.

The weather already looks like it’s improving. I just went for a walk to the convenience store with the sun shining down on me. It was a little bit chilly, but there was sunshine nonetheless. But if I should go offline again, you now know why. No matter how many times Mother Nature strikes, I will always find a way to tell you guys I’m alive and well, even if it means going to a library or a hotel to use their computers. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

 

***CREATIVE PROJECTS***

Being offline has caused a little bit of a setback in my creative work, but that’s okay, because catching up is as easy as 1-2-3. I’ve declared today “reading day”, which means I’ll catch up on short stories submitted to the WSS and I’ll do another 30 pages of “A Street Cat Named Bob” by James Bowen. Tomorrow is Friday and will be declared “TV day”, where I’ll catch up on NCIS, NCIS: Los Angeles, NCIS: New Orleans, and WWE NXT. Wow, that’s a lot of initials. As far as “Zombie” goes, I’ll probably write it this coming Saturday since all of my catching up will be done by then. And then there’s the Dark Fantasy Warriors drawings. Next on deck is Danielle Reigns, the benevolent necromancer from the short story that used to be called “Conform”, but is now called “Dead Man Walking”. Wish me luck on catching up! There’s not a storm on earth that can stop the power of creativity!

 

***SKYPE DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

ME: I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that the acronym for Occupy Wrestling is OW, which is what people say when they feel pain.

MARIE: Haha! If I catch a wrestler saying, “Ow!”, I’ll slap him across the face and say, “Man up!”

ME: Yeah, wrestlers mostly just scream in agonizing pain or say, “Shit!” After all, nobody gets wrapped up in the Walls of Jericho and says, “Please stop that, good sir.”

MARIE: Hahahaha! That’s true.