the Arc Effect

"Well, that's sort of a long commute for anyone". They could all agree.

Georges took a drag of the cool walk-in-draft

"Look man, when we get back, i don't want to hear anything else about how long it took you to get here. Fifteen minutes late is one thing, an hour is another...but you're fucking two hours out, man."

Just then they both heard a crash outside the office.

"Shit, someone dropped their load down the stairs" Duh, George.

Actually he hadn't dropped anything down the stairs but rather he'd thrown some containers down them in a fit.
Jonah stood above the staircase clenching a bloody, apron, rolled hand.

"Call, Frank!" He muttered as the stormed passed the two.

Now the Wedding rehearsal would arrive early (on time). Georges's, late to the show, and it looks like Jonah's just sliced open his left hand.

Cless ran after the wooly chef , but Jonah had already made it halfway down the avenue before his peers could reach the restaurant's front door.

"Cool, fine, great"

"Well, let's crank".

Before sunset

She turned around to at least take in the full facial expression. Cless hadn't skipped a beat.

"What? You weren't surprised?" She wondered 

"Never surprised, just constantly disappointed, usually" Cless was trying his damnedest to seem indifferent. It was taking every muscle in his stomach to clench up. 

Too early in the work week to tell if there could be more to this. 

Real Estate

Spent a few days out here at a Tom Ferry summit in Vegas.

The part where i met up with my parents again is on one hand frightening. The other is the part where i saw other adults ( people in their mid 30's +).

Just a general sweep of the cast lets you know where you stand. I get the feeling it's a my duty to keep as youthful as possible and to keep from homogenizing.

I get the biggest kick out of the voyeurism.

Well cmon man what else are you here for?

Ive got that tiring and gnawing feeling for destruction again.
I'm going to quickly kickflip back lip that soma rail. I've got to, i need the release and to end the restlessness.

But this is what the arts did to me, i feel. How do we have these projections of ourselves in our minds and keep them there for years?

I mean if it's going to be frowned upon for me to knowingly smash personal property i've got to at least get a little of it out - whatever the consequence.

God know's I've got the body for it, all my arms and legs are in perfect condition -- better than ever ,even.

Let's get after a taste.

Is Sorrow

Cless peered at his car's stereo.

"What's on the playlist tonight, babe?"

Cless looked deeply at the digital display. There was the low hum of some fading strings from the track's synths pouring into their ears via decade old car speakers.

"Is this the right jam for the moment?" he wondered aloud

"I can't even hear it, turn it up, turn my headphones up." she had to confess

Cless knew there are times of great struggle and entropy is eternal. To be sure, most of his existence was a clear display of the balance.

"It's the Black Devil Disco Club...you never know when you'll needs Satan's backing track"

 The beat kicked in with a thwacking-rapid sequence.


THwuk Thwuk Thwuk Twhukk

You might ...know the play.

It's something akin to telepathy. You must feel it at times.
The same feeling you get when you are commiserating with the elderly. You can't really bother them, it wouldn't feel hearty. \\\

"Ah dream on!" She had to shout.

"What?" Cless detached.

"You think you're just so smooth, huh? Get the fuck out!"

"Wait, wait, so this isn't the move?"

The door slammed itself on exit.


///

That sound of thunder?

BISON MEAT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.

So. Cless has two choices here. He can terminally compete with this chap to the bitter end. Or.... he can burry him now. Right where he stands.

"well, that seems like an easy one". He says even to just himself. He even has a laugh.

So. He stalks. If only for a few seconds. Down the steps and to the butcher's room.

There's his prey . How did he become so sadistic so soon?

This is a game of logistics. We simply can't have a fair showing. Tbis is business after all.

Jordan stood there under the hums of the fan. Just perusing the morning's stats. Cless imagines his other options. How else could he commit this original sin?

By smashing Jordan's head into a waffle iron set on high? That'd be too much time for a struggle. We're trying to get back to the office before anyone ssee's we're out.

The shadows are on your side . So Cless moves in on the doorway, its wide open after all.

"HEY YOU!"

THWAAK

CLess pounds the deba deep into the back of Jordan's neck. Just between the shoulders. We could call it a perfect first attempt.

"what the faaauuugggghh" Jordan doubled over onto the cool counter and released some gushing blood. Holding onto his neck for some reassurance, he's still alive after all.

"Gimme back my knife, "

Cless grabbed the handle of the deba and pressed against the oaf's back...He claws the blade out with a crunch.


"now you're out!!"

Jordan flops over onto the nearby table and slowly lowers himself on the floor. It's looking pretty uncomfortable.

huh?

"So, what can touch you?
It's been a great few days of sleeping in and you've had lots of agreeable food to eat. At least the world isn't asking you to fire on a tired and empty stomach.

Let's see what you can do..."

"i don't get it, how does the rest of the world work this way?" Cless wonders aloud. "I mean, if i don't turn up, if i'm late or if i just don't have the goods, its pretty much disaster. Like...I'm not gonna be sleeping it off..."

"huh?" Feb looks like he's drinking a cappuccino. But Cless's eyes aren't registering any signs of life in his 'friend'.

"Sorry to get so technical with you." Cless is intent on having a good morning, so he's got to brush this shit aside.

"Surrender, bitch." Feb swiped a cuff across the warm milk-stache' formed across his upper lip. "No one gives a fuck about your schedule and how demanding you THINK things are."

"Say the words...and words become flesh..." Cless knew he was right.

"This is how the military feel right? Elitism because of circumstances? They chill around in uniform because they feel elevated by the stress they're put under?" . "No, wait. you can't even joke about that. stricken from the record. And what do you know about the military?!"

"Still beats the alternative..." Cless made a little motion to the remnants of the milk stache'. "Absolute crap."

They peered out on broadway, anxious to get just a little tan. Their problems seems so far apart. I mean , on one side you have a desk jockey, and on the other; a self-contained pugilist. Only attached by a common history.

But the attetion on the free fifteen minutes would shift on a dime.

"HOLY SHIT! Look!" Feb pointed down the avenue. An old ranger pops the curb a few blocks down and rams into a stopped Explorer. Fords made to meet.

"Just don't leave anything in your car.."

"I know, i know...I think because of how old the car is, people are going to be over it.."

"That's got nothing to do with it, they did it to my rear window, and that was eight-hundred dollars to replace..a vintage piece of glass."

Quick exchange of nods and we split. Seems like simple info I'd get from any pal.

How retarded to not have listened , but i think the scene was pretty dreamy, thats why i recall it here.

I saw my window broken under a street lamp. Plenty of washed out sidewalk, still raining as i took in all the broken glass.

The upstairs neighbors across the street apparently saw most of the action. He could only point me in the direction of the vandal.

Still don't get why i didn't lose any irreplaceable items, my bag was just getting soaked next to the curb when i found it. I figured i was going to have to give a little pursuit and potentially gut someone.

Ahh its time to relax again.

I guess the good celebrities do die in 3's?

hard to believe this was only summer 2015

To kick off 2016 -- The motorHead dude Lemmy died, David bowie dies, and the guy who played Hans Gruber in Die Hard is dead.

I'm most broken up about David Bowie dying. I always felt like his songs were tailored just for me, and I got to listen to most of them free of charge!

Sound and Vision?

Gets me all choked up and teary thinking about it.

I miss em' heaps already.

That.... and I miss my fucking long flowy hair . It sucks and hurts that i have to sell out to hold my position and keep my tenure for as long as I can. I knew how it was going to work when i signed up, but it doesn't make it any easier/less sad to shed old personas.

I try not to take any of this too seriously. But those are some my fondest memories of me.  Times where i wasn't at total odds.  When; how i felt, spoke, acted, and looked all lined up.

I was like a metrosexual-shredding-chef .  Thats exactly where i wanted to be at the time.
Shouts to David Bowie for doing this all years before and helping me feel endeared by people who didn't grasp the picket-fenced ideal of masculinity.

Only tea can help.

Guess those are the two options at the end of a busy day. Which do you decide you deserve tonight? Tea or chartreuse?

I'm sorry if i was being a jerk earlier. All you guys deserve better.
It's a hearty symptom of humanity to be unsatisfied at different levels isn't it?

That's how i tend to put this issue together. I think: This is natural, and when the dust settles, every human finds a problem with how good things are. They find reasons to upturn graves and issue rebuttals. I'm just lucky enough to have the luxury of sanity, and stupid enough to not realize how good I've got it. But shouldn't i try and fast forward and get to heightened pasteur?

Anyways, thats what this section is for. Just to take a pause and have a silent moment of gratitude.

I feel sad sometimes thinking about the sheer volume that reflects how many times i've been delivered by grace from terrible circumstances.

How many times I've been fished out of the whale's intestine.

How many times I've found the way out.

....And still find a problem with the air around me.

 : )