I really wish I could tell you

what was wrong with me. Let's start from the ground up. Three years ago, everything was fine, almost perfect. How in three years I've come to barely recognize myself, I have no idea. I've still got my boys at work and the clan but other than that I'm what I never wanted to be. In light of the hole left two years and some odd months ago, I've become addicted to working. I'm taking 15 or 16 credit hours a semester, a full school load but still I insist on working borderline 40 hours a week with a makeshift weekend on Monday and Tuesday. I love the feeling that I'm worth something to someone because I'm good at what I do. Probably since I lost that feeling with someone else, I try to find it though labor. The money has been great, I haven't had to worry about my accounts slipping in the past couple months but at what cost? I still get to see the guys occasionally, pretty much whenever I can but there comes times, inevitably, when they will want to spend time with their someone. Where does that leave me? Back at work? By myself? Walking the streets at all hours of the early morning trying to drown out my own thought with an iPod? For awhile it was running through it. With no goal in mind, maybe three times a day, just running. Sadly that was taken from me too. So it was back to work. One of the only places I feel part of something anymore. School is automated and monotonous, when I'm home I'm either sleeping or doing homework so where does that leave time for much else. I thought that hard work would give me an awesome sense of accomplishment and value but it seems like its leaving me more and more empty every day seeing what I used to have. Every time I think I might find something to replace that part of myself she walked away with, it dies in front of me. It moves away, it wasn't feeling it or it leaves me waiting, just blankly staring at the salad bar trying to convince myself to stay another couple minutes. Just another couple minutes.

Oh, hello.

that time again, eh?
i suppose so
my, you're bright
you don't seem to be too dull yourself
couldn't do it without you
you're too kind
time to shine, kiddo
no pun intended, i hope
none at all
the majesty is lost through the looking glass
the owl hears nothing.

Gotta trust me, here.

you just missed it
no, i swear it just happened
the most amazing event in lifes short span
i can't wait to show you
i can't wait to show everyone
is everyone here?
okay, here goes
no, don't leave i swear i just did it
maybe you have to not watch
please

This is based off a dream I had last night that I'm sure many people have had. I was able to fly, it was awesome and completely real. I could do it on command with a simple trick that for the life of me I can't remember. Hopping my car over traffic, flying to the tropics, just flying. Then suddenly I just couldn't do it anymore. For no apparent reason. People that had seen me do it and were amazed suddenly had no further use for me. The novelty had worn off.

Where to from here, boss?

Okay so this is potentially the first chapter/prologue for a novel I've been mulling over for years. In a nutshell, Death hates his job and quits. People stop dying and we follow how it affects different people. A doctor who gets too full of himself, as well as a couple others. Then when he resumes his position, the effects of the reinstated death take over, slowly going back to normal, the events seeming insignificant

Theodore Steadman had fallen asleep in his chair again. It was becoming a more and more regular thing with his old age. He had been getting in the habit of turning off all the lights and feeding the dog before he sat down to watch the evening news because nothing would get his attention again until the morning.

The lights from the television pulsed like a florescent heart in the dark room, the politicians and newscasters speaking to the comatose man drooling on his worn flannel robe, which he seemed to live in these days. A sharp crack from an overzealous commercial snapped Ted out of his slumber, cutting him off mid snore. The light from the TV blinded him as he attempted to regain his bearings. As he looked around, he contemplated just going back to sleep. There was never a point to do anything productive anymore since Mary passed away.

Mary and Theodore had been married for almost forty years before the accident. Mary had been driving in the country one Sunday afternoon, like she and Teddy would always do. Only this time, he had opted to stay home and work in the garden. This bit of irony always stung a bit. In his grief he would always tell himself the elderly stereotype killed her and kept him from being killed. Aimless driving and the goddamn garden. To further the icing on this delicious cake of irony, neither their classic Cadillac nor the once ornate and extensive garden had been touched since. He even avoided the southern bay window as to never even have to look at either ever again.

With a groan he pushed himself up and out of his chair and puttered towards the kitchen. Stepping over their, his, old as dirt poodle, he reached for a glass and ran the tap. Brown water spat out across the sink for a few seconds until the stream ran clean. He filled the glass and stared at it. He had never been the philosophical type but he found himself wondering what the point was. Some innate and carnal, maybe even cosmic urge caused him to get this, but why? In fact, why anything, really. Standing there for a few seconds, he finally decided to stop being a nancy and drink the damn thing. Downing it in one tip, he walked back into the living room.

The nightly news program had changed to even later programmed infomercial cavalry. He sat and watched Billy Mayes yell into the camera at a presumed audience about the stain fighting power of whatever his new cleaning bit was. Mary had been all about that miracle cleaner bullshit, he thought. That though drove him back to the kitchen to grab his bottle of whiskey before returning to his chair. Maybe Jack will make him and Billy get along a little better, he though chuckling to himself. Poor bastard. Annoying as all hell, but a damn good salesman. Of all the recent celebrities to die, he didn’t deserve to be one of them. The poodle had since made its way from the kitchen to go where the proverbial action was, as little as it may be and laid down next to the armchair.

“What do you think, girl? Would you buy this?” he asked.

The dog sat and only looked up blankly.

“He’s good, I’ll give him that. Could probably sell a refrigerator to the Eskimos or matches in Hell. Wonder if he tried to talk his way out when the big guy himself showed up to take him away. I’d have liked to see that conversation.”

“Oh he did certainly try, but he’s not the first and as sure as I’m sitting here, won’t be the last. And I hope not too, keeps things interesting.” A voice to his right drew out.

“Speak of the Devil,” Theodore said as he took a swig from the bottle.

“No,” the man chuckled, “he’s a different department entirely. Him and Mr. Clouds-and-Harps got their own deal.”

Theodore could see out of the corner of his vision the man talking. An elderly gentleman, like himself but with the outward aura that he just always looked like that. He wore a wool knit sweater vest and business casual khaki’s and those God-awful Croc’s.

“You don’t look like I’d expected,” he laughed, causing the bottle to bounce, “just walk off a cruise or something?”

“Close, actually, I was spending the winter Florida. With all the retired people moving south, it’s just easier for me to live closer to work, you understand.” He said leaning closer with his elbows on his knees.

“Oh, of course I expect traffic is a killer for a, well whatever you are.” Ted said as he handed the bottle to the stranger.

“Well,” he coughed on the whiskey, “technically speaking, you would call me an angel, but as you can see, I haven’t been trying to keep up with that appearance. I feel it over glamorizes what I do, you know?”

“I thought the whole robe and scythe thing worked well for you?” he inquired.

The mans cough turned into a laughing wheeze. “You know, the funny thing is, I never once wore a black robe.” He outstretched his arms. “Look at me, white as a ghost! No pun intended of course. What’s the point in wearing something where if people see me first, all they see is a floating head? Not the image I wanted to go for. As for the scythe, best I can figure was this wheat farmer back in the dark ages who thought he could stay alive by taking off on foot dropped his scythe. Now I wasn’t really in the mood to chase this bastard down to I picked it up and just chucked it at him, Babe Ruth style. Knocked him out and I dragged him away. Simple as that. He must be spreading it around that I had it to begin with to save the embarrassment or something, who knows.”

Theodore contemplated in his haze telling him Ruth wasn’t a pitcher but decided against it, lest he take a Bambino swing at him. He coughed to break the silence. “So do you remember everyone you take in?”

“For the most part, I try my best I really do.” He said with his tone dropping near somber. “I’m not the ethereal being I once could have been so I was cursed with empathy.” He smiled slightly, “Its like the life of an old time traveling tradesman. The classic salesman before everything turned to codes and numbers, phone calls and e-mails, you sold with yourself. You put your all into it and made them believe in what you were selling. You formed a bond with that person, if even for a moment.”

“Except in your case, its free.” He laughed.

The stranger snorted. “Exactly, and they don’t have a choice, they’re taking it whether they like it or not.”

After a pause, Theodore spoke. “So what about this one? Is it special or just another day on the job?”

He took a sip. “Well I can say not many have been so courteous. And this is a damn fine bottle. So yeah, I suppose I’ll remember this little chat.” He said putting the bottle between them again.

“Well while we’re here, do you like it? Just off the record?” Ted asked.

“Like it?” he paused, “I don’t see how anyone would. I find no joy in telling people their time is up. The ones like you are the hardest too. The kickers and screamers annoy me to the point where I’m glad to get out of there.” He laughed.

“Ones like me?”

“The people who are perfectly content with their fate. It always kind of creeped me out. But with how society bombards people with death from an early age, it really isn’t a surprise anymore.” He paused and chuckled again. “Like now, you were more concerned with the way I was dressed. That’s what the Style network does to people. Death comes a’knocking and you comment on his shoes.”

The wind whipped outside, waking the dog who let out a low groan.

“So this is it I guess.” Ted sighed.

Death exhaled slowly. “Yeah, probably about time to get going.”

The bottle was almost empty.

Ted looked at it solemnly before downing the rest in one gulp. He looked back up at the man. “What’s it like?”

He looked at him apologetically, head titled slightly aside. “I wish I could tell you. Like a bad salesman, I have no idea what I’m selling.”

Theodore smiled. “I’ll have to let you know sometime.”

Death smiled back, “I look forward to it.”

Theodore snapped upright. “Wait!” he looked around him frantically before finding the TV remote. “Don’t want to run the electric bill.”

Death laughed, “Frugal old bastard.”

With Theodore on the chair, the dog slept soundly through the night.

Behemoth

herald!
to lay waste to the end
the bitter beginning
the subjects needn't concern
samsara is slaves to us all
expense of athanasia
the will to maintain
alas
it is only a couple more miles

Revelation

sun shines on the digger
the worker and his toil
the intellectuals wonder why
he doesn't hide his macabre task
he only laughs
you all dug this grave long ago

Oddity

the infernal machine-
contraption of bone and bane
the Colossus holds the song,
in his hand, life swirls
empires rise and fall
love is found and hopelessly lost
treasures dead and buried
he smiles
"stranger things have happened"

Raise Your Glass

behold
the World, shrinking
the soil flees
and leaves the crypt maker
to his bidding
even the hum of time
will fade with the crescendo

The Five and a Half Minute Hallway

if you steal her once,
steal her twice
or free us with a glance-
because and only child is the only chance
to end this wicked curse-
the only way, we say,
you rid the sea with dance
and banish love to verse.


Only now do I accept my mediocrity. Compliance is another story.

Lok'Tar

I'm not quite sure how I feel about the fact that my WoW playing time has been so suddenly and drastically slashed. I mean logging in 20 days of play time on just my one character and probably closing in on 40 with another, its probably for the best at the moment. With the Lich King being a cakewalk now I don't really see the point until Cataclysm comes out. Or at least until the fearless DK can get his raiding up and running.

So please, if anyone ever starts a raid, let me know, I want to get myself up and back in fighting form before we can all play again.

The Sheep in the Boots

I feel a great weight lifted off my shoulders now that I got a part of my shit together and have a routine that seems to suit me for the time being. Tired of feeling lazy and lethargic, waiting for my next obligation to come along, I've decided to take some time and do things for me. Trying to end the procrastination is proving to be the hardest part. Yet the absence of Azeroth and the World of Warcraft came easier than I had imagined. Without out fearless leader, we find ourselves not even finding the ambition to enter the Citadel and give Marrowgar his weekly what-fer just to throw in the towel the first wipe on Rotface and his oozes.

The Modern Warfare is where we've picked up. I kept true to my word, not that I feared I wouldn't, and there have been man nights of fragging and raging all for the stories to follow. Like legitimately getting a kill with the care package. Suck it.

All of this is well and good but the icing on the cake is purely for me. My mother always told me that physical activity a couple times a week does wonders for just about everything. My job is fairly physical but I figured a shock and awe campaign against my own body might be what the doctor ordered. A month or so in and I couldn't be more pleased with the results. I can run farther than I ever thought possible, lift more than I ever wanted to and feel better than I have in a year. The fact that I just might be able to keep up with Anthony when he gets back is just a bonus.

I took some initiative for once in my life and it feels great. I'm getting more hours, making more money, feeling better about myself, dug my amp out of the closet and in a sense, I'm writing again.
The nights are still lonely and I've got a long way to go, but this is the first step of many and my shoes are holding up nicely.

"Snails see the benefits, the beauty in every inch"

Behold a Pale Horse

"Argue your limitations, and sure enough, they're yours."

When I think back to everything that's happened to me in the past two years, I can't help but wonder if its all been worth it. I've made life long bonds with people I would have never suspected otherwise from, people that I cannot imagine my life without but at the same time, people who helped me through my darkest times seem to have faded into their own lives where our paths split. In twenty-four short months I've seen passions and loves rise and fall, interests spark and fade, friendships grow and dwindle and there just comes a point where one has to ask if its all right.

As much as I never thought I'd hear myself say it, the monotony and routine of high school has become something I came to miss. The days where you knew exactly what you were going to do for the next weeks on end and the biggest shock you could get was bombing a test or forgetting your homework and the biggest stress was speaking in front of a room full of kids who to be honest, either didn't care what you had to say or were too nervous about their own forced thirty seconds in the spotlight to listen.

I wasted so much of my life caring what other people thought of every little thing that I did. People that didn't give two shits about me or anything I chose to do with my day. I blew off any chance I had to be myself and stayed lost in the expectations of everyone else and I paid the price. I began to listen to my self doubts and reservations towards my abilities. I fought my ambitions and it left me unsatisfied and uninspired from the things I found the the most joy in.

It took a parade of people marching through my life for me to even have an idea of who I was. From the days of riding and late night debauchery, which in a large sense I'm glad stopped when it did, to the musty smell of a basement band with dreams a bit too big for their britches, there's been no shortage of characters in this play. From eating wood and pavement with my bike crashing down around me to winning a battle of the bands with so much as barely knowing three original songs. I gained and lost who I thought was the love of my life, and in some ways, I still do. I still sit back on some of those nights alone after work and wondered if I had tried harder, would it still be the same? Or was it simply not meant to be? What happened to all of this, I couldn't tell you. All I know is what I've lost there, I've gained in some of the greatest people I'll ever meet.

My friends, my clan, my brothers. Without them I don't know if I would have ever made it. There's rarely a time where I would rather be anywhere else. In a sense, I think the only real relationship I've ever had couldn't compete and in turn, eventually ran its course. I know we've had our rare fights and talked the occasional shit behind each others backs but the harsh truth is I would take a bullet, hell multiple bullets, for any of you. Even being one man down for the short time being, which in a large sense is probably what made me reflect so suddenly on myself. I couldn't be more proud of what he's doing and at the same time, sick with myself for not doing the same. Or at least something that I feel is of a greater significance. I live in the constant fear of disappointing or letting any of them down. I want to succeed and watch them succeed right with me. I don't want much out of life, but first I need to figure out what it is and I know you'll be with me every step of the way.