Creative Writing – Page 8

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (35/365)

“So what’s the Deal with The Name and the Whole Bitcoin Bullshit about?!” asked Lee inquisitively.

“Well They picked the Name Ride because it Stays off People’s Radar. No One asks Questions. It’s the Hiding in Plain Sight Strategy. You see Everyone is more than Familiar with the concept of “A Ride” You Know?” answered Dizzy as He Riffled through His numerous Pockets to scrounge up the $4.37 for the 40s.

“Yeah I get it now. No One blinks when You say shit like “Thats My Ride” or “I got to call My Ride” because Ride is so utterly Generic No One Notices being Virtually Oblivious.” said Lee in a Slow Tone of Realization.

“So that’s explains the Name for You so what’s the Bitcoin Tie In about? Setting Up Ride so even in some INSANELY RARE OCCURRENCE an Asshole figures Out the Ride Name the Bitcoin is there as Back Up.” explained Dizzy plainly as He took several Prolonged Sips of His 40.

“What the fuck does that Mean? Back Up?! What kind of Back Up are You talking about specifically?!” said Lee in a Condescendingly Irritated Tone as He grew irritated by the Whole dragging out of the Conversation, and wished Dizzy would get to the fucking Point already.

“Alright fucking Relax You ass I’ll explain.,” said Dizzy with a rather Authoritative Tone, “It’s really quite Obvious Regular People Don’t deal in Bitcoin or Don’t know jack diddly shit about Bitcoin period or They deem Bitcoin Shady because of it’s Dark Web Association. So without Bitcoin You can’t use Ride.”

“Ok thats a Pretty fucking Smart Idea They came up with.” Said Lee with slight Admiration, “How fucking far is it until We get to Your Place it feels like We’ve been walking for fucking Ever and a Day.”

“Don’t be such a Drama Queen We’ll get there Soon Enough I assure You,” replied Dizzy nonchalantly.

The two continued Their on for a while in Silence as They made quick Work of Their 40s. Then all of Suddenly Dizzy grabbing Lee’s arm to get His Attention.

“Oh shit Look it’s fucking Dancing Dave!!” Dizzy blurted out in Drunken Excitement.

Lee Stopped and looked Diagonally across the Intersection at the Far Corner where Dizzy was Pointing Wildly. There on the Corner stood a Man dressed in a Navy Uniform, but not only that He also was wearing a Stereotypical Kitchen Apron along with a Old School Circa 1920’s-1930’s White Navy Cap. The Man appeared to be in His late 50’s to perhaps Early 60’s and was so Thin he looked a rather Sickly as He could weigh more than 90 pounds Soaking Wet. His skin was badly Weathered, and His Shoulders Hunched as He stood Slouching on the Corner as Still as a fucking Statue.

Dizzy again routed through His pockets until He located a handful of Spare Change which He searched through intently until He found a Couple of Quarters. Dizzy handed one of the Quarters to Lee without saying Why before He took His Quarter and lobbed it across the Intersection at Dancing Dave. The Quarter landed Unceremoniously at Dancing Dave’s Feet bouncing a couple of Times before finally coming to Rest.

Tune in for Next Weeks Enlightening Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (36/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

FYB’s Personal Pandora’s Box is About to Bust Wide Open.

Well Hello Dear Reader,

This is just another quick Peak Behind the FYB Curtin to Let You Know what We are Up To.

SpaceDog has returned from a Cerebral Sabbatical of sorts and We couldn’t be Happier about that.

Now that I have gone 166 Rounds with the Issue of Time Management I have Managed to Free Up some Time to give FYB the Attention that it Truly Deserves.

What that means essentially is FYB is about to go through some rather Serious Growing Pains in the Next few Months.

I have a Virtually Insurmountable amount of Catch Up to Accomplish to say the fucking least. There are so MANY Unorthodox and Unconventional Oddities, Mysteries, Curiosities, and Discoveries Roaming This Reality of Ours I barely know where the fuck to Begin.

SO I will be Using the so called “Monkey Method” We Throw a Bunch of Shit at the Wall and See what Sticks as Content comes at a Much Quicker Pace. If You LIKE something by all means Let Us Know. If You HATE something by all means Let Us Know. We aren’t at all Afraid of Criticism.

FYB’s Amended Mission Statement Update Below.

We are Our Own Alternative Dimension as to Adhere to Our Uniquely Unusual Agenda with Absolute and Utter Abandon. We will continue to Feed the Creative Hedonism with an Epileptic Intelligence, and Unapologetic President.

We are the 7th Dimension to Your 6th, a Niche within a Niche within a Niche Once More running on a Transcendental Time Line Searching out the Secrets of The Soul. Thriving on an Undying Curiosity to fill Our Emporium of Abominations with Abnormal Creations of Kinds and Creeds.

We SHUN the Inane and Mundane Mainstream full of Floating Bloated Corporate Corpses clogging up the Rivers of Creativity. The Mainstream is NOT CREATIVE it is DESTRUCTIVE. It Chokes the Life Out of Ideas and Slaughters Original Thought.

We are the Reuniting of Split Personalities Standing Victoriously in The Infinitely Unyielding Vastness of the Virtual Void. We are Higher than the Hight Road, and Lower than the Low Road a Lost Circus Sideshow Attraction abandoned by The Wayside only to Defy Death with Insanity to Achieve Immortality.

We are the Ideas that Lurk in the Confines of Your Cranium, We are the Thoughts that Linger while Sitting inside Your Skull. Our Strength comes from Those who Try and Kill Us.

Remember to Question Everything and Everyone. Reality is a Construct.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

The Amazing Adventures of Dr Lisa Lithium Part 1

In a place not far from where you may live a little girl was born many eons ago. The year 1950. Her place of birth though remains a mystery. She was found in a public restroom outside of an unknown Washington Township. All that was found with her was a piece of paper which read, “This is Lilith. We do not want her. In the toilets she shall remain, the sewage that she is.”

She was found by a family named Smith and a family named Jones, though these were not the names the families had come to America bearing. They were the 1950s version of a gay couple; two gay men and two lesbians who after one drunken evening found each other’s truths and married.

The families decided to rename her Lisa Smith. Lilith was not a name they wanted to keep attached to her, with or without the harrowing note. She was named after a longtime friend who knew their truths but had passed away in a horrific boating accident.

Dead Lisa was a bubbly, warm soul who always gave 110% of everything. If you needed a lift she was there. A shoulder to cry on. A hug. A handjob. Anal. Dead Lisa was a bit too ahead of her time and this is ultimately what lead to her untimely demise.

It was so told that while vacationing in the bayous of Mississippi, Lisa and two friends had the unfortunate experience of a foundering motorboat. On top of this, the propeller had completely stopped working. One friend wished that someone could swim and push the boat towards safety. Lisa heard the call and into the water she went.

She was only in the water for about a minute when she emitted a scream. A gator was attacking her. It took a healthy bite out of her shin, not quite taking everything below that but leaving her dangling like a rogue piece of spaghetti not wanting to play with the other spaghettis on the fork.

Amid her agony suddenly the propeller reactivated. Usually this would be a good thing but she had won the Powerball of bad luck. The gator had dragged her directly to it. This was the actual cause of her death, not the gator, but her being motorboated by a motorboat. Just to top things off as she went under it took off all the recognizable features of her face. Her soft lips. Shredded. Her fat pointy little nost. Her green eyes sunken deeper into her skull. Her forehead shredded to the bone.

But enough of Dead Lisa. This is the tale of the living one. She will not be denied.

(Stay tuned for more….)

By SpaceDog

The Black Metal Experimental Lyrics

I have been a Fan of Black Metal for some time now, and many Readers may have noticed I use quite a Few Black Metal Pictures in Posts. Some of My Favorites are Goatwhore, Nocturnal Depression, Silencer, Immortal, Mayhem, Dying Fetus, Burzum, Bathory, Gorgoroth, and Dark Throne to name a few.

Over Time I have Noticed Black Metal Lyrics are all about Death, Doom, Destruction, and The Devil for the most part They don’t dwell on one particular Subject per Song, But rather They tend to stick to the Bigger Picture working on broader scale.

So I decided for shits and Giggles that I’d try My hand at Writing some Black Metal Lyrics so Here It Goes Ladies & Gentlemen………

Savages Feasting on Bloody Flesh of Their Foes

Slime Covered Slores Bay at the Blood Moon

A Secret Place of Lore where Cadavers and Corpses

Copulate to Feel alive Once More

Bloody Entrails ripped from Rectums

The Defiling of The Flesh

Devils and Demons engage in an Apocalyptic Orgy

Behold The Aborter Birther of Bastards

A Cemetery worth of Mutilated Carcasses

Rotting in the Sun, Purifying in the Sweltering Heat

Vultures gorge Themselves on the Decay

Gouging Eyes, Tearing Tongs, Deafening Ears,

Parasitic Souls Languish in Lurid Lusting

The Things that Go Bump in the Night

Adorned with the Fresh Skins of Man

Enslaved in Despair and Soaked in Sorrow

The Maggot filled Mouths of Murderers

Blasphemously Born of the Kracken’s cunt

The Ender of times licks His Lips anticipating Armageddon

Damed Deities demand Damnation of the Abyss

Broken Backs, Severed Heads, Amputated Limbs

The Brutality of Burned Bodies

Eternal Torture in the Fiery Pits of Hell

there lies the Destiny of Humanity

Suckling at The Withered Tit of The Witch

What Fresh Hell is This?!

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (31/365)

” There nothing I like better right now than a Cold Beer.” Said Lee emphatically with His eyes still Locked on The Fatal Four Way Refund Death Match still going Strong in front of Them.

“I know a place Near by. It’s My Actual Neighborhood Bar believe it or Not. Low Lights, Cold Beer, No $15 Cocktails, No Flare, No Pretentious Mixologists, No Dj, and No Trendy goddamn Hipster Half Wits. People at The Boozehound are content to leave one another in Peace. Respect the Institution of Bars.” said Dizzy almost growing giddy a the Thought, “It’s called the Boozehound and it’s a True American Classic Dive Bar.”

“Dive Bar you say?” responded Lee His Apprehension being quite evident.

“What? You got a fucking Problem with Dive Bars, I mean what are You one of those Commercial Sheep? One Those Applebee’s Assholes or What?!” demanded Dizzy defensively.

“No Offense its nothing fucking Personal in the least. It’s just that sometimes People get confused on the exact Definition of a Dive Bar. What you described is the Ideal Dive Bar Scenario and I’m liking it again don’t get Me wrong. Some People mistake a Shitty Hellhole of a Bar as What a Dive Bar is or should. When in Actuality its nothing like the fucking stupid Stereotype as Stereotypes go,” explained Lee plainly, “Dive Bars don’t Stink of Stale Beer or Urine, They don’t smell like fucking Vomit either. They’re not dirty, scummy, disgustingly unhygienic, The Bathrooms aren’t total shitholes that make Gas Station Restrooms look like the Fucking Four Seasons. You walk into a place like that its just a Shit Bar it’s No Dive Bar by Definition thats for sure.”

“Oh shit Ok I see what You’re saying. No I assure I’m not an Ignorant asshole or anything. Its a straight up by the Book Dive Bar.” said Dizzy with renewed Confidence.

With that the Two New Acquaintances departed the Theater leaving the Refund Turmoil behind. They walked several blocks through a nice Working Class Neighborhood until They Reached the Boozehound located on the Street Corner. Dizzy threw open the Door and strode in like He owned the fucking joint with Lee in tow.

Lee looked around the Bar assessing the Layout. To the left was the actual Bar that stretched almost the entire way down the wall, and a Row of High Backed Booths lining the wall to the right. The Restrooms were located all the way at the back of the Bar next to an Antique Wurlitzer Jukebox, and one of the World’s Last Pay Phones.

Dizzy and Lee posted up at the Far end of the Bar because Dizzy apparently had some fucking Mobster Complex. He said He always has to have His back to a Wall, and Where He could See the whole Bar but more importantly the Front Door. Lee wondered if Dizzy had a good reason to be Paranoid or if it was simply a Personal choice.

“See the Middle Aged Guy sitting in the Last Booth?” ask Dizzy in a hushed Tone.

“Yeah I saw Him when We came,” answered Lee, “Why what’s His deal?”

“Its one of those No One really knows. We Call Him Vladdy He first came to The Boozehound in the Winter of 1980, and been showing up every single day since. Vladdy keeps solo to Himself and He doesn’t say shit. Not that it matter though since Vladdy doesn’t speak a fucking lick of English and No One round here Speaks a lick of Russian, but Somehow Vladdy and the Bartenders have found some sort of way to Communicate even if it’s in a very Simplistic manner.” Replied Dizzy sparking up a Joint and continuing, “Oh it’s fine if I Smoke a little Weed in here I know the Owner. Anyway every morning when the Owner comes to Open Up Vladdy is already here and waiting on the Stoop. Everyday it’s the exactly same fucking routine. Owner Opens up, Vladdy takes His spot at the Last Booth along the Wall. After Vladdy takes a seat The Bartender brings Vladdy a Jar of Kosher Dill Pickles, a Shot Glass, and an entire unopened Bottle of this Insane Russian Vodka. I think I heard His Family actually makes the shit and ships it Stateside for Him or some crazy shit like that. It’s Vladdy so who knows.”

Dizzy paused for a minute to get the attention of the preoccupied Bartender who was standing with His back t the Bar intently scrutinizing the Football game that was on the Bar’s only TV. When Dizzy got the Bartenders attention He ordered Them a couple of Ice Cold DraftBeers along with a couple of Shots of Maker’s Mark before returning to the conversation.

“Well Vladdy spends the Day sitting in His Booth Taking Shots and Eating a few Bites of Pickle in-between until The Vodka Bottle is Empty. The Vladdy gets up and Leaves for where who the hell knows most likely its Home I’d suppose. And then it starts all over agin the next Morning kind of like an Alcoholic Version of that Bill Murray Movie fucking Groundhog Day and shit.” said Dizzy right before slamming a shot and a Beer, and then ordering another round.

Stay Tuned Kiddies for Tomorrow’s Stupendous Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (32/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober.

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (29/365)

Lee stood up and stretched like a motherfucker. It been so damn long since His bathroom Break that just like on a long Road Trip Lee’s ass had gone numb. As Lee walked triumphantly out of the Theater with a Particular Kind of Pride at being the very fucking Last Person in the Audience by the End of the Show. It was like a Badge given out to People who’s God given Gift is being able to Survive Massive levels of bullshit without Breaking or Bailing.

When Lee reached the Lobby He walked right into a heated discussion between several of the Audience Members who had left the Show, and were still at the Theater arguing Tooth and fucking Nail with the Theater Manager. Of course They all were aggressively demanding The Manager refund Their Money because the Show was complete shit.

Sitting on a Wobbly Old Stool behind the Vacant Concession Stand sat an Interesting looking Fellow who wasn’t actual involved in the Dispute, but apparently was getting a great kick of watching the Drama unfold with a Smile that was bordering on a Sarcastic Sneer splashed across His face.

Since the Show had been a Bust, and didn’t see the Point in fighting over a Few Bucks (the Tickets were $3) Lee figured Why not stay and Watch too. At least He’d get some Real Entertainment instead of Pretentious, Lamenting Socially Objective, Over Indulgent Emo Artist Assholes plodding around the Stage thinking They’re all Provocative and Intellectually Deeply Symbolic Implements of Art. Lee strolled causally behind the concessions stand without a single person taking note all accept the Guy behind the Bar who watched Lee the entire way.

The Guy was wearing of Well Worn pair of Blue Jeans, Construction Boots that by Their Appearance were Older than Lee, and a Leather Biker’s Jacket adorned with a Collage of Patches and Pins. He had Long Dirty Blonde hair that hung half way down His back, and was sporting a AxCx (The Abbreviation used for the Band Anal Cunt) hat which Lee found very Cool. It was the Stranger’s Silencer T-Shirt that caught Lee’s Eye in particular because Silencer was an Obscure and Short Lived Experimental Black Metal Band Lee liked. This Rare T-shirt Earned Lee’s Initial Approval.

“This is fucking Beautiful Bud, This is the fucking Performance Art of Everyday Life. I’ve been here since the beginning and These People are gearing up to go to War over a piddly $3 Loss which is so not worth this Reality TV Show fucking Drama. I do have to admit though it’s one hell of a Show especially after that Buffett of Over the Top Exaggerated Bullshit.” said the Stranger in a matter of fact tone as if He was commenting on the Weather or some other banality.

“So what’s going on here exactly?” Lee asked inquisitively trying to get an Assessment of the Situation that was unfolding Before Him.

“Well the Dynamic here is this. As You can damn well tell the Theater Manager is the Angst Ridden Fellow with the Clip Board that looks like He’s about to have a Stress induced Aneurysm.” Said the Stranger who paused for a moment to take a Hearty Pull off a Pint of of Phil’s Fine Fortified Red Wine (that he had stashed in the Inner Breast Pocket of His Jacket) before continuing His tale.

Stay Tuned Kiddies for Tomorrow’s Insomnia Inducing Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (30/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Centrist

I am not a fuckin’ savior. I peel away at people like onions. We all do. Some of us are the peeled and we cry. Some of us are the instruments that scalp. Away. Away. Away.

We peel away the layers.

We peel away the sunshine.

We prefer it this way. Peeling away until there is nothing but barren terrain. Nakedness of the soul.

I see that barren flesh. I run. I hide. I capture but I do not seize. I growl at myself. I cannot kill the already dead. I cannot usurp what is already fallen at my feet. I plot. I ponder. I smile, I beckon them forth.

Centralist

I have always stood in between time and reality. I have always liked my part in this pathway towards truth, towards honesty, towards good.

I have always hated my lack of proofreading, my lack of utter care over things that most writers would throw hissy-fits about. Is this proper grammar? Am I spelled this write? Yes I know right.

I play dumb for the prey to think I am as such. It is not a very nice thing to do, but do it I shall. It was how the wolves conditioned me. Maybe I’m still just a wolf.

Most likely though, I fall in between. I am a centralist or centrist. I care not to look up spellings in dictionary.com. Usually words flow in my head that don’t make sense. Nine out of ten times, they are real words and I do a little spellcheck and poof they become what they were intended to be. Microcosms of my head spewed out to the masses herky-jerkedly like a disenfranchised orgasm at a self-righteous porno store.

Yes. yes. YES. !!! I would think if I had a bigger ego, that yes I am the fuckin’ Dr. Phil of the next generation. I have been in the middle of many things. I somehow italicized my shit and have no clue how. I havent been in the middle of any bi relationships but if I could have would have just so I could enlighten you all further. But that is not the point of this blog. The point is this………………………………………

There comes a time…….. when we as people need something more. I need more. I hear my friends call me after many a beer and I hear my friends after many a sober evening. I do not hear stability call. I hear everything but.

I write and write and write some more. There is no sense to the melody. There is no reason to the rhyme. Perhpas if I could hear the music. I could tell the tale better. But I have equal melodies of those captured by the waves of the substances and I hear equal melodies of those not captured by such.

What road should I travel? What road will hurt me less? I care not. I care to live.

By SpaceDog

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (26/365)

As it turned out The Dueling Ted Nugents clashing in a Inflatable Kiddie Pool filled with Spam turned out to be quite Anticlimactic. As instead of flat out Brawling the Two Teds were having a choreographed Fight which looked to be a Hybrid of Professional Wrestling and Kung Fu. To make it suck even worse They were fighting in a Slow Motion Matrix Style Rip Off.

Lee couldn’t tolerate the Slow Motion Slaughterfest in Spam a moment longer so He opted to take a leak. Lee descended the Stair case back into the Dismal Lobby where He searched for the Restroom Door. Lee located it at last over on the Far Wall past the crappy Concession Stand.

Once Lee reached the Restroom Door He pushed it open only to discover it didn’t lead to an actual Bathroom, But to the Cramped Trash Packed Ally next to the Theater. Lee figured when in Rome (or an Ally in Rome in this Case), and walked over to the nearest Dumpster. Lee was being extremely cautious no to step on any of the Garbage that was strewn about the Ally. The last fucking thing Lee needed was to catch Hepatitis or Herpies in addition to witnessing this ridiculous Performance Art absurdity.

Lee went back into the Theater and returned to His seat. Once seated Lee noticed the Two Teds had vacated the Stage, and the Next Act was now on Stage. Thank fuck thought Lee taking a piss had been the perfect way to avoid anymore Spam induced Shit. On Stage there was a Man who looked to be in His fifties suffering from a classic case of Male Pattern Baldness leaving His remaining hair looking like a Common Clown Wig.

He was Shirtless and Lee was truly dumbfounded by how much fucking Body Hair this Guy had. There was so much hair that it looked to Lee like this Guy had missed a step or two in the Evolutionary Process. Serious Lee thought this Guy must be the Subject of a ton of Bigfoot Sightings, and the Unknowing Star of hundreds of Sensational Bigfoot Captured on Film Videos. Lee figured that a real live Specimen of a Bigfoot is essentially a Cryptozoologist’s Wet Dream come True.

The Man who too Lee’s disappointment was wearing a pair of Kaki Slacks instead of say Shorts or possibly a swim suit who fucking knew in a Venue like this One Lee found Himself in currently. The Man on Stage also had on a Pair of Black Dress Shoes so Lee couldn’t see how Big win fact this dudes feet were, and couldn’t help wondering if the Black Shoes were intentional to hide perhaps this Guys Big Feet?!

The an went over to the Side of the Stage to retrieve a couple of Saw Horses, a 2 by 4, a 5 pound Hand Held Sledge Hammer, and a Nail that honestly could have been a fucking Railroad Tie. The Man set up the Saw Horses about 4 feet apart and then He places the 2 by 4 across them like a Balance Beam. The Man then took the Nail and Put it in His mouth Sideways Biting Down on it Gingerly. He perched the Hammer balancing it precariously at the far right end of the 2 by 4.

Once the Performer Guy had his Set Up as situated He nonchalantly took His pants off folding them delicately before placing them at His feet. Again to Lee’s dismay The Guy managed to remove His pants OVER his Shoes depriving Lee of yet another curious glance at the size of His feet.

The Man then pulled His Boxer Shorts down to His ankles in one fluid motion, Stood Up, Plopped His Flaccid Penis onto the 2 by 4 in front of Him, Took the Nail out of His Mouth with His left Hand, Picked up the Hammer with the Right, and the Blurted out “I GIVE YOU…THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST.” before holding up both the Hammer and Nail in outstretched Arms in a Crucifix Pose.

Stay Tuned Kiddies for Tomorrows Harrowing Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (27/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Savior

I hate picking categories for my blogs. Sometimes I sit here for like ten minutes and mull. I like sitting and mulling over things. Then I usually just drift away, drift away, drift away………

I’ve been wanting to write this for a few days. I think it might be important. There are just so many angles and I’m seeing things in my head like a great big kaleidoscope lately and Resces Peanut Butter Cups saved me. Ramble done. Substance begin.

Saving

I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours
She knew your life
She knew your devils and your deeds
And she said,
‘Go to him, stay with him if you can
But be prepared to bleed’

-Joni Mitchell

When first heard these lyrics, it resonated with something deep down within me. I had a dream. Well a daydream of sorts. I was 14 years old. It was on my parents bed. I saw that man. I saw the man I was supposed to save. The features in his face were blurred. Then I knew. Then I knew.

The search was short. I thought I found that which had been conjured to me. This was only a faux pearl. This was something like heartache but I had no heart. No one was saved. I was left a wreckage. Nothing was broken. Nothing has no name.

I went off further into the abyss we call humanity. I saw glimpses of greatness. I saw far more horrors. I’ve seen many things that do not bear repeating. For their lack of importance, for their lack of any kind of depth. Only rings around a tree. Only rings around a giant redwood smothered around her kindren deep within the darkest forrest.

Then one day someone introduced a novel concept to me. That of saving myself. So I did. I had just seen Trainspotting again recently. So I left the life I knew, the people I knew stuck at a random motel. I thought I had stolen their drugs but in actuality I stole their Marlboro miles. I did not fret. I did not care. I never looked back. That life was gone.

Then I found something. I found myself. He was hiding where the willows never weep. On a tall cumulus cloud nestled in between the puffs.

When I was sitting home one night it occured. I had no idea what was happening. There was no immediate warmth or glow or feeling of glee or joy. I met the person I was supposed to save. There’s really no way of knowing you are going to save something until the process is already underway. It sweeps you up one night and then you wake up the next day with a hangover. You wonder what just occured. I thought this was love. This was nothing of the sort.

So I saved him.

Literally.

His life.

Not we had a little pep talk and he went out and threw three touchdown passes and the whole town of rednecks went into a frenzy.

Not I sprinkled my fairy dust all through the village and everyone thought he was a prince.

Not he was sad. We got drunk. We fucked. He felt acceptance but walked with a limp.

No. Physically preventing him from leaving this world. Tackling him with the noose in his hand.

It happened again. This time I offered him death. I offered him a chance to overdose on my bed. He chose not. Saved again.

Aftermath

I do not regret the choices I have made.

I stand by each and every one of them as my own.

Sometimes I wonder whether or not I saved the person I was supposed to save. It’s not really what I would call a regret. Just more mulling inside my own head.

There are times that make my decision feel right. There are times that make it cold and barren and desolate. An Antarctic tundra trapped by numbness between the webbing of my feet.

I do not search for what is to be saved.

I do not seek that which lies within.

I venture forth the crumbling highway.

I call for nothing yet something always begins.

By SpaceDog

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (25/365)

There was then a short “Intermission” that is if You call sitting in complete and utter darkness for 5 minutes while the Stage was being Reset. Lee was thinking to Himself in the meantime that while as Brutally Savage the Young Guy craping in a Bucket had some serious balls. That and the piece was far too long so He should consider using a Laxative next time to speed things along.

The Spot Light blaring back on like a Fucking Lighthouse. On Stage was a Man standing rigidly behind a Theremin (Thereminophone), and wearing a full head to toe Black Body Stocking. The Body Stocking was decorated with Random Cliche Space shit in Dayglo Paint. A Pre Recorded Narration started to play from not a not so legit Sound System, but from a shitty 1980’s Boom Box at the back of the Room. Lee had to satisfy His curiosity and peered over His shoulder. Lee was delighted to discover to see He was exactly right about the BoomBox.

Then Bored sounding Narrator that was some Monotone Kid mumbling almost incoherently at points about Inner Dimensional Time Travel like one of those Fanatical Sci Fi assholes that argues in Klingon. Lee felt the Intro was Purely Self Indulgent because it was just Token Space Topics like Light Speed, Blackholes, Time Travel, Alternate Dimensions, Extraterrestrials, Worm Holes, and Life on Mars being rattled off by some thoroughly Uninterested Kid (who more than likely was the Performer’s actual Kid).

The Intro Recording ended and the Performer launched into a what can only be explained as Speed Metal on a Theremin. It totally blew Lee’s Balls Off. He just couldn’t get past how fucking Awesome the Performance actually was. He had thought it would just some Overindulgent Emo Loving Sci Fi Freaky Nerd dredging on and on through what He would classify as “Musical Soundscapes” or something similar as fuck that it might be called.

After a Blistering Round of Theremin Speed Metal (as Lee was calling it) the Performer threw the Theremin over sending it crashing down to the Stage. It landed with deep and solid thud. Lee assumed this was the Theremin equivalent of a Metal Guitarist smashing Their Guitar at the end of a Song/Set. Lee found the Overturning of the Theremin to be the Icing on the Cake as far as He was concerned.

The next Act featured to Men wearing only Red 70’s Bicycle Shorts and matching Ted Nugent Halloween Masks. The Two Men stood facing one another from the Opposite Ends of a Large Inflatable Kiddie Pool. The Kiddie Pool was almost completely filled with an Unidentified Meat or Meat Product. It looked to be some shit ton of an unappetizing Canned Meat Product to Lee making Him a bit Queasy.

Then a Song from a particular Monty Python Skit featuring Spam started playing from the Boombox in the back “Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam….” as the Two apparent Advisories swayed Side to Side switching Their weight from Foot to Foot eyeing each other up. The Song then arrived at an Audio Clip of Dialog (also from the the Skit) which had be Edited in Exclaimed “But I DON’T LIKE SPAM!” the Two Performers Lunged at One Another as They entered the Kiddie Pool to engage in Battle.

Stay Tuned Kiddies for the Next Deviant Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (26/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober