The You, Inside Of Me

Another day like any other... blank faces and burnt cigarettes completed the scene. I was sitting in the corner, as usual, sipping my coffee watching the breathless clamor about the flooring... then she walked in, bright eyed and fancy free. The stale air and wisps of smoke stepped aside as her presence breathed life into all that was once dead... the world paused for a moment as it's heart once again was filled with purpose. I suppose she felt me starring at her with curious eyes, an inescapable scenario... in that brief time, she had seen the child hiding within and her curiosity sparked as well. I became excited and flustered as she smiled at me... lowering my head in assumed embarrassment. She walked over and greeted with unexpected pleasantries and ask if she could join me for awhile... "inside or outside?", were the thoughts rambling inside my mouth. I nodded in acceptance as I began to rub the armies of moisture from the palms of my hands... it was a pleasure to be certain, company for tea and conversation to fill the empty moments. She reached out her hand and offered it to me... her name was Mari and her hands were soft and kind. In turn, I introduced myself and offered to buy her a beverage and something to eat... just myself and the child within, as we begin this dance made for two. We stayed there for what seemed like an eternity, but the hands on the wall noted it had been only two hours... each moment lingered as we explored this curious arrangement. The sun had began to set and the day was coming to a close... they would be coming soon and I really must be going. I assumed this moment and meeting were to be over, so I began collecting myself and preparing to venture home. As I stood from the table, she asked me if we could see each other again... sheepishly I looked down at my feet kicking at the floor and suggested when. She said, "I don't know... what are you doing now?"... the bricks fell lose and landed firmly in my stomach. My words stumbled forth like the obnoxious drunkards in the alley... I told her I really needed to be getting home because I didn't really like to be away for too long... not me, but them; they don't like me to be away for long. I apologized as I shook my head in confusion. She placed her hand gently on my shoulder and asked if she may join me at home for a time... there were no claws sinking inside my flesh, it was a good touch for once. I agreed by simply looking up at her and smiling... she took my hand and we began walking home. I rarely had company and admittedly the house was in a state of dismay... books and empty cigarette packs covered the coffee table and the dust had settled into a musty blanket of neglect. It was a quiet house, away from others and the upsetting mesh of society... I lived alone in the house, but never alone; not for long. We sat down on the couch in silence... it was painfully obvious to her that I was quickly becoming more and more uneasy. She scooted closer to me and took me by the hand once more... the child began to sweat. She tried to comfort me and assure me that she meant me no harm... she just saw something inside of me she really wanted to get to know better. My chest began to heave faster and faster as I noticed her moving her lips towards mine... the stage grew quiet as I pondered on the thought of her getting to know me better. Our lips met and pressed deeper into me, licking my lips and nibbling gently upon them... the child began to weep. Confusion flooded the room... I was in no pain or distress, yet she was touching me. The air became thinner and my breath escaped me as she began touching my body in the places that had grown cold and distant. Her hand slid along my chest and down to my inner thigh. She began caressing my lower region until I had began to become aroused. She was going to wake them... the child inside screamed in terror. With my lips no longer responding to her passion and my erection dwindling, she pulled away for a moment to once again look into my eyes... something was different. Something was wrong. Her warm eyes met with mine, but this time they were met with an icy stare... a milky complexion and smirk of dissection. The child inside was gone and she saw with clarity as he began to come forth. Time had once again froze, as new sensations danced upon the room... this time, her chest was pounding in anticipation. I turned my head slightly to the left as I studied her expression and absorbed her vibrations... he too, found this girl to be quite interesting and different. Her hand touched mine once more, but this time it was she that was looking for comfort... the tables turned and the bidding had closed. I smiled at her once more, but this time someone else was looking back into her. Quickly my hand twitched and leaped towards her throat. It had become a vice, gripping tighter with each passing moment... we were there for what seemed like an eternity, but the hands on the wall would once again disagree. Her arms had began to thrash wildly in the air and her legs were kicking for release... I moved in closer to share my appreciation. I threw her back and pressed myself tightly against her writhing body... my grip was without compassion and filled with delight. Her eyes grew wider as she felt my erection return and press in agony against her body... her tears were like lubrication for the soul. As her breaths became softer and of less frequency, mine became deeper and in rapid succession... the man inside moaned in excitement. Her lips became blue and foamy spit escaping her mouth formed in the corners of her lips... I kissed them gently and suckled her once more. As her eyes glazed over and her body gifted me with one last spasm, I reached my full potential and shivered as my body heaved with the convulsions of orgasm... the man inside laughed. I crawled off of her lifeless body and sat beside her in silence for a moment... she had seen something special inside of me. I reached down and lit a cigarette as I pulled her shell closer... propping up her body in the seated position. I placed her limp arm around me as I rested my head against her chest... the warmth I once felt had departed and was replaced by a nothingness of completion. I looked up at her and smiled. Mari, I think I love you...

Beginning The End

There is a place one can go... apart from the images and dancing figurines. In a time separate from the now and morrow, a place of wall-less shelter... those tears cried themselves dry. The wheat is tall and dripping milky honey for all the weary that lay down to rest... it's safe to swallow and the needle is out. Fancy free, one can flee... for in here, none may follow. Not in mind nor the tangible, for this place is made for the one... not her, not him, not ever again. You'll be wrapped in a silk-less cocoon of braided air and silent whispers... melodies once drove the heart to slumber. All you need to do, is breathe it all away... every moment, memory and day. Just forget every smell, image and smile... the blankets are folding, I'll forget in awhile.

The I In Infected

All reasoning escapes me... if this is the HU-Man experience, then I am failing miserably. More than feeling, we are here to learn and understand these feelings... the fire burns intensely, but the flickered dance goes without meaning. I guess the only small comfort is that I am not alone in this failure... the world is filled with countless drones that feel nothing at all. Placing one foot before the other, webbed in glass and ash... at least I have the vibrations. I see people complain about not having contact with other people... branded beast and isolated from the world. Yet, when you try to encourage them or reach out, they snub you like a diseased leper... champagne taste with a penny sized purse. Maybe they are alone because they feel they are too fucking good for anyone else... my outlook is the opposite, never worthy of another.

"Jarhead" had a birthday recently. Still unable to process the previous encounter, I decided to once again speak with him... an experiment to gather knowledge and biscuits. I didn't wish to relive the terrors of yesterday, so I simply wished him a "Happy Birthday", told him I thought of him often and that he will always have a special place in my heart and life... an empty home is better than no home at all. Within two days, he responded in kind... flashes of broken fingernails clawing at the pavement. He told me that he loved me and that I have no idea how much those words meant to him... press firmly, insert and twist. Of course this didn't bode well with the choir and they have refortified the city gates. The vibrations were overwhelming and all of those those thought and images I was desperately trying to evade came rushing in for the assault. This experiment has brought about more questions and confusion... all of the little children singing, "Jesus Loves Me". Why is it that people from the past remember me well and the current people discard me like a soiled whore? I was less of a person years ago... filled with rage, abusing and using everyone for my pleasure and thirst. Maybe that is the way people think... when someone has been removed from their life, they remember fond moments and build sand castles with them. I haven't seen many of my tormentors in a great many years, but I remember them well. Even though I am not consumed with hatred towards them, I wouldn't greet them with open arms. I wouldn't greet them at all... out of sight, out of mind. I tell myself and others often that the world is full of heartless robots, clawing and ripping at each other for domination. Perhaps we are all robots, myself included... it's just that I am broken and in need of repair.

Timid Theodore

Tonight will be without the tongue lashings and bile drenched spit... I have finished feasting on the children and wallowing in my feces. Their hands dance with a new purpose... flailing the stage, as the body twitches in fright. I was thinking today, as my body was draped in a blanket of water, about the misconceptions of mental illness, as a whole... those sweaty teeth lust for the sweetest of meat. If you stumbled upon a handicap person, struggling to carry their physical burdens, would you kick them in the fucking legs? If you saw a person with down syndrome, playing with utter delight on the sidewalk, would you point and gape your mocking maw? If you met a terminal cancer patient, weak and sickly from treatments, would you tell them to suck it up and get over themselves? Of course not... sick, fucking, heartless bastards. Interestingly enough, people will treat a mentally ill person with the same thoughtless, callous actions... the tears become lubrication for the fucking. Depression... pathetic. Schizophrenia... serial killer. Mania... over-emotional, attention whores. The list goes on and on... each thrust splits the flesh even deeper. So why is this common practice? Is it purely out of ignorance and fear... what do you see, when you look inside of me? Personally, if I see another Criminal Minds, Law & Order or CSI refer to a schizophrenic as a serial killer, I will be filled with an overpowering urge to travel to Hollywood and stab those directors in the fucking throat 74 times. Yes, I know, that isn't very constructive to my cause... the passion runs deeper still. I am not a violent person in action... at least not anymore. I have a very hard time dealing with physical contact, so the likelihood of me physically hurting someone is very doubtful. That is not to say, I don't have violent thoughts... the screams were orgasmic and the grin was ear to ear. I suppose the answer is mutual to the later... perhaps it is our honesty and openness to ourselves that inspires the hatred and fear. We live in a world full of masks... all the players take the stage, forgetting themselves in the process.

Mary's Flock

Things have been quiet since my last purge of bile and ire... what better way to stir the silence, then a kick to the stomach? It is the 4th of July, our blessed Independence Day... another day to love, drink and walk blindly off of the nearest cliff. Fucking lemmings. What are we celebrating, independence... from what? Remove your "patriotic glasses" for a moment and think about it. We left England to come to America and be free... of course the price for that was enslaving the people already living here and shipping new people from another country to be our slaves as well. So here we are, free from England's rule and living the good life of any decent marauder... well done. So we form a government... for the people, by the people. Then we inflict the same rules and ternary upon the people that ran for "freedom"... same game, just a new location. Then a few "patriots" stand up and begin fighting for our freedom... while behind the scene a new Puppet Master toils with our strings. No, I am not at liberty to name the spades... the freedom of speech died long ago. Just think about where your money is going and who controls everything from health care to entertainment in America, you'll get the picture. Our wise government has striped every right and freedom from under our noses and the people are too daft to see it... all they see is "The American Dream". I'll tell you what the dream is... business. Morality has taken a back seat as we live the dream. Bigger, better, faster... it is the American dream. An empty mansion, a fleet of gas guzzling behemoths and toxic, glamor girls... life couldn't get much better. Oh wait, it can! How about a nation that builds secret death camps, poisons our water by drilling for oil, sprays chemicals into the air to spread disease and decay and a nation that stops backing our currency with precious metals, so that it becomes completely worthless... now, that's a great nation! Children burst from the womb while googling on their iPhones... the search of the day, is genocide. You've done a model job, Mr. Salt... please Sir, can I have some more? So celebrate your "freedom"... dance in the streets, burn your worthless money and watch it spew forth pink, yellow and red and have another drink, please do. Forget, for the moment, that you are a fucking slave to your "freedoms". Am I anti-America... no, I'm anti- sheep. I am wide awake and watching this lunacy unfold... while the others remain asleep and fondling their genitalia. Bah, bah, mother fuckers... Happy 4th of July.