Thursday, June 13, 2019

Second Chance

Some say addiction is like a virus, a virus that spreads. You find yourself going in circles until it's defeated. In the midst of this challenge it becomes your crutch until you snap. You go to it over and over again to heal the pain. I couldn't find a cure until I found a weapon to fight with. To kill a cancer you have to kill every bad cell. I killed the dealer, I killed the exotic dancers, I killed everything that I felt killed everything that I loved. On the end of my killing spree I sat in a room alone with no recipe to feed my cravings. I had no one to act out the sex scenes in the videos. I had no one to cook up the drugs, no one to get drunk with and no one to smoke with, I killed everything that was killing me and somehow I found justice. After I realized what I had done, I looked in the mirror and I felt better. I washed my hands of all of the blood in the dirty sink and when the cops came I turned myself in. With no more bad cells I cured the cancer and I alone was responsible for relapsing and killing myself. I now had no choice but to be clean. Hearing a crowd of addicts cheering was all an illusion because the only cheering that I heard came from those who took their second chance and never looked back. I became the hero that told my fans, "Don't try this at home."

Second Chance

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Page 88

All my life I've tried to be a good person. I've tried not to lie, cheat or steal. One day at the library I found an abandoned book outside near the trash. It was a small book with no cover. On the first page was a picture of an open heart with light beams coming out of it. The first page quoted: "He who possesses the image on this page is able." Seeing that I was at a point in my life in need of some direction, I was drawn to what this author had to say so I took a seat by my bike near the curb and began to read this old abandoned book. I got to page 37, then I decided that I better get home because I couldn't help but notice librarians peeking through the big windows of the huge building as they prepared to close.
As soon as I entered my one room shack in the deepest part of my imagination, I sat on the couch and continued to read.
"Who would throw such a good book away?" I thought to myself as I continued to read. 
Yawning, I turned to the next page and noticed that it was blank.
"Where's page 88?"
Up to this point the book was so deep that I needed to know more. I could tell the author had a lot on his mind when he wrote it. I mean this guy had answers for everything. Up to this point in my reading, the author makes it known that there's a flaw in civilization and the women for some reason are bringing their children to this man's house but there's no page 88.
I turn to page 89 but I'm missing a key part.
"Why are all of these women bringing their children to this man?"
Curious, I look up information about the book on my phone. I also look up the author but find nothing. In frustration, I throw the book and it breaks the mirror nearest to me on the wall, then I hear a knock at my door.
"Where's page 88?" I whisper to myself looking at my reflection in the broken mirror.
There's another knock at the door.
I move one foot to look and see who it is. The floor creaks on the weight of one foot.
"Who is it?" I ask, but no one answers and I don't see anyone outside.
In deep thought I realize that I have to figure out what this book is really about, what is the author trying to say? I skim through the pages and I hear another knock on the door.
"Who is it?" I shout, sitting in my one room shack on a dirty couch reading a book with no cover. I then slam the book down on the bare floor to see who's at my door but still see no one. Now I'm starting to get freaked out.
"Hello, is anyone out there? What do you want?"
I get no answer.
Now I'm really getting freaked out. Something is wrong. I get a burst of déjà vu while noticing that the mirror is not broken this time and the book is not on the floor, it's on the couch. I could've sworn that I sat it on the floor. Okay, at this point, I've lost it. Hearing a knock on the door, I rush to look out of my small window. There are children standing all around my one room shack. 
I'm on page 88. Feeling my heart skip a beat I rush to the book on the couch and begin reading page 89.
Realizing my fate, I now know where page 88 is. I am page 88. I then open up the door and began to read the rest of the book to the children. I also notice that my one room shack is in a small corner at the library.
All this time I've been sitting in a small room reading to children enhancing their imagination. I then turned to the next page and the story goes on to the next chapter of the book.

Thursday, May 2, 2019

The God of Roses

Oh my, what a pretty flower. The sun has allowed it to grow on my owned and paid for property. Have you noticed that I’m the only one growing this beautiful gift from the sun. How will I share it with my fellow people? Will I charge them? Will I take pictures and sell them? Oh look, it’s god has protected it’s beauty with thorns, how clever. This flower’s beauty comes equipt with a defense mechanism. It’s beauty is deceiving, I shall leave it alone until I find a way to kill it and remove it from my property. Hmm, is the God of humans trying to send me a message or is the god of roses trying to assume the throne? Could they be the same God? What a beautiful flower, I shall cut and and share one with my wife to show her how much I love her. Oh no, I’ve been tricked again.

The God of Roses

Thursday, April 25, 2019

The day when nothing happened

It was a rainy day and I had just finished making my signature peace t-shirt. I marveled at the black and white designs trimmed with fluorescent colors. After all of the hard work, I turned on the radio and noticed that nothing was on, it was just air. I turned on the TV and saw only static. I went outside and noticed people just sitting on their porches...
"What in the world is going on?" I asked myself softly not expecting an answer.
I then grabbed my keys and jumped in the car; driving down the street I noticed all of the city political leaders and justice officials sitting eating barbecue with gang members. I drove by the military base in town and say all of the ships docked. Every military plane was on deck.
"What in God's name is going on?" I kept repeating to myself.
Realizing that things had taken an odd turn, I was spellbound when I saw all the religious leaders of every faith in town sitting outside of a church playing corn-hole.
From a distance I noticed the local gun store had chains on it, everyone had given in, they all threw in the towel.
Submitting to the movement, I went home, put my t-shirt on and jaywalked across the street and had me a piece of barbecue with my neighbors.
There were no more clouds in the sky.

The day when nothing happened.

Friday, March 29, 2019

The Love Story

Many writers approach the topic of love in a general fashion, some often fail to isolate the feelings between two people.
This story starts with a little piece of paper on the floor and two people less likely to fall in love.
One writer would say that love cannot be forced, it has to happen randomly, when two people need each other the most, then, with time, it will reach its fullest potential. They have to need and want love. Accept it, because they've seen enough so they surrender to the force that love creates. Then the story begins:
It was a rainy day and Ryan sat in his office chair falling asleep, tilting his head to the side he noticed an old piece of paper that had fell from the book that he had been reading on break yesterday. Noticing a familiar name on the piece of paper with a number, he picked it up. Ryan had been single for quite a while and this was a strange situation. The name on the paper was Monica, a girl that he had grew up with but never approached. Holding on to the paper, Ryan found himself in a new trance, all he could think about was the paper and the number so he decided to text the number to see if he would get a response. Hours passed with no reply so he gave up and went to sleep but like the writer said, love cannot be forced, it has to happen randomly to reach its fullest potential. The next morning when Ryan awoke, he noticed that he had a text message from the number asking who it was, but Ryan was too afraid to text back. Eating breakfast, he couldn't help but to keep looking at the picture of he and his ex-wife Karah on the wall. She broke his heart and he doubted his instinct to try again, so he didn't, he erased the text and threw the paper away.
Leaving to go to work, he hurried and grabbed the book that he often forgot to read while on break.
At work Ryan felt different, it was like a force of attraction that was pulling him in Monica's direction. He could feel something because all he could think about was a simple text message. He had some type of spell on him. Distracted, he spilled hot coffee on his arm.
"Ryan, are you okay?" Tina asked, noticing him trying to care for the burn.
"You might want to get some help, that arm doesn't look good."
Tina was the supervisor on staff that day and from the moment Ryan clocked in, to the moment she saw him spill coffee on himself, she noticed something serious was on his mind. She had seen that look before.
"Did you meet someone last night?"
"No, no, I've just got a lot to finish up. A lot on my mind, you know," Ryan explained, wiping off his arm and clothes with a paper towel.
Grabbing more towels from the break-room counter, Tina helped him clean up,
"Ryan, go home and get some rest, and make sure you see a doctor about that burn. I'll have Jim cover the rest of your shift. It's slow today anyway."
Hearing the phone ring in his cubical, Ryan's attention shifted as he slipped to head to his desk. Tina stopped him in his tracks,
"No, no, no lover boy, you're not going to make me look bad today. Jim will take the call. Go get treated, I'll see you Monday."
Ryan gathered his things and in a matter of ten minutes he was headed to emergency to get his burn looked at. The nurse wrapped it up and on his way out, that's when it happened. Ryan saw her and she saw him.
"Ma', Monica, what are you doing here?" Ryan asked, shaking like a wet duck.
"I just started this job yesterday. Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
As the conversation shifted to the text message, all doubt soon left Ryan's mind. This is how it happened. A man and a woman who've had so much heart ache in their lives, yet in the span of three days would have conversation and realize that they needed each other more than a doctor would need a nurse. It was simple. There was no hurry for touchy-feeling-bumping-and-grinding, just pure love. The two just met everyday and began to spend time knowing each other all over again. Five years later, at the altar, he kissed her with no doubt that he had made the right choice. Twenty years later when his son came to him with the same feeling, he asked Ryan about love. Tripping on his own shoe laces, he looked his father in the eyes and asked,
"Dad how do you know when love is real?"
Ryan put his hand on his son's shoulder, the one with the scar that led him to his future wife, and looked his son in the eyes,
"The force of attraction will be so strong and all of your feelings will surrender. My son, there will be no doubt, you will know."
In certainty Ryan and Monica would spend the rest of their lives together and have three children. Through ups and downs they would never forget the moment when they reunited. The key is that they would never forget to keep telling each other and their kids their own love story.
  
The Love Story

Monday, March 25, 2019

The Angry Dog

Today I smelled the grass and pissed on my owner’s favorite chair, and I don’t care. I do love her but she has to understand that I don’t like it when other dogs smell my spot. She never listens, I barked at her for hours, hmm, let me lift my leg up and piss again. It’s a dog-eat-dog world. You ‘betta ask somebody. She has no clue what I’m saying, I give up, let me piss on the chair one more time first, then, I’m going to lay down. Barking wears me out.

The Angry Dog

Thursday, March 21, 2019

Left

Once again I’ve been left alone. This must be what it feels like. I’ve given away everything, I have nothing left but my grandfather’s discharge papers. This must be what it feels like... this is what being barried alive must feel like. I have nothing left. I sit and watch the devils of this world take credit for everything that’s good. I watch as the people flock to them while those suffering sit in the dark. In the shadows, like me. Prisoners of war in your own country. Pondering, I notice my left hand shaking. I use my right hand to comfort it. I then comprehend why I was made with two sides. Wait there’s almost two of everything. Everything goes hand-in-hand, but my left hand is weaker than my right hand. There’s two sides to everything. I look in the mirror at my reflection, pondering the fact that all my life my soul has been in the middle of two sides working together, inseparably, indivisible; United...if I lose my right hand, I must learn to use my left, so my left becomes my right, how ironic. Being comforted by my own thoughts and reflection, I thank god. My comprehension has lead me to figure out that those who sit in the shadows will eventually be brought into the light. I have no more regrets. I’m grateful, I see the light, the darkness led me to it.