The Way of Things.

 In a small town in the north, there is a warm wind that blows through it every spring, and people will gather, and share in conversation what it is that they are looking forward to in their lives. Expecting parents will relax and look forward to the joy that will soon be in their lives. Children already with them, will run and play outside, imagining new worlds and dreams, never imagined before. New loves and old loves, will feel at peace with each other, refreshed and excited for the unknown future that will soon be a happy present. All because of the warm wind that comes with the change of the season. All of these things, and more, are known. And all of these things, and more, are expected.

It is the way of things.

This year though, there were no new loves, there were no expecting parents, there were no children running in the streets. There was nothing to imagine, there were no new worlds, or, the new worlds were too dark to imagine. The warm wind, blew it's warmth on the town. But, like a widow crying on her husbands coffin, it fell on deaf ears.

Somewhere far away from this place, for reasons beyond most of the residents understanding or appreciation. A small group of people made a mistake. Because of this mistake. The town was dying. There were no jobs, those that still had them could barely afford their modest hard working lives. And they didn't know what to do.

This had happened before, they had heard the stories, they had heard about the darkness that swept across their continent. They had seen the movies all about it. 

In remembering this time, some of the people knew that they had to band together, to work together, they had to form large communities, and work hard together to survive. To give, when there seemed that there was nothing else to give. To create a community of struggle, compassion, and understanding.

The last time this horrible type of mistake was made, they survived, the town survived. In the time of absolute darkness. Where there was no hope. The people shone at their brightest. Brighter than they ever had before, or ever have since.

This time when the troubles hit. Everyone seemed to gladly leave the town, give up on each other, and keep what was theirs. To share none of it. To give to no one. To make everyone fend for themselves.

Eighty years since the last one, the world had changed dramatically.

When the old man that spent his winter taking his tractor out and helping pull cars out of the ditch, lost his farm. He had nowhere to go. His family had long since moved to the city. No one in the town took him in, no one offered him a meal, let alone cash to be able to take a bus into the city. No one wanted to help him. No one felt that they could, or should.

When half of the teachers at the school were let go, they started a protest. No mothers or fathers came out in support. They were left in the cold, protesting an injustice, unheard, and uncared for. No one felt they could help them, no one thought that they should. They all had so much to worry about for themselves.

More and more people fell on dark times like this, more and more people were left on their own. To face, a dark world of loss, alone, with no home, dreams, or hope.

People forgot how the land was truly won. People forgot what really happened in order for so many, to have it so good. People forgot that those that stand alone, fall the easiest.

They forgot because, they were told to. People started calling each other lazy. Pointing fingers, and breading hate.

In towns across North America, there is a warm wind that blows through it every spring, people gather, but they don't talk. Expecting parents scowl at the behavior of others, afraid of the world that they are bringing new life into. Children, already with us, are no longer seen, and are especially not heard. They are inside, despite the warmth. They are imagining what they are told to. They are dreaming dreams that belong to someone else.  New loves, and old ones, will look at each other, doubtingly. Always afraid to lose each other, knowing that they could, at any moment. Afraid of a future unknown, that will become a present, despite themselves. All while a warm wind blows in. None of these things, and more, are known. And none of these things, and more, are expected.

It is the way of things.

Welcome to it Now. (Prequel to Making them Count, Sequel to A Bad Situation)

Kelly was down on the ground with the bag of our shit, ducking down like a pussy. What was he expecting Jacob to do? Not use the gun I bought him? We couldn't pay rent, did he think we could pay for the drugs? Come on man, think!

But he wasn't much of a thinker, he was just some skinny kid from suburbia that wanted to see the real world that he had been sheltered from.

Well, you're welcome to it now, you piece of shit.

Jacob was pretty scary though. I have to admit. Even I was freaking out at him. He looked like he really liked using that gun. Staring with that kind of creepy intense hatred.

He looked up at me after a minute though, because we were all, sort of frozen. Staring at the two guys, now just two bodies. He said:

“I've never done that before.”

So I kissed him. To make him feel better.

“It's got a real kick to it”

Fucking creepy.

Kelly was still on the ground, crying. He had no idea what was going on. We had to pick him up off the ground. He pissed himself. Pathetic. Then he just started screaming at Jacob.

You killed them, you killed them, you killed them...over and over. As if, we hadn't realized that he had killed them.

We got him in the car, and we went back home, mostly so that Kelly could shower off the piss smell. Maybe he could get back some dignity while in the shower too.

Jacob was cool a cucumber though, I hate to say, he was, he looked intense. Well, even more so, he always looked like an intense guy. Like he didn't want things to go badly, but he was always willing to act accordingly in any situation. No matter what. It was in his eyes. Steel, stark blue. I was staring at his face when he was killing those guys... it was the same look he had when he was laughing at something so hard that he lost control of himself.

In all honesty, I'm glad I peed before we left.

Jacob checked the news, but there wasn't going to be anything. Like, that only happens in shows. When they're creating a believable world, the real world doesn't care about two drug dealers getting shot.

Two hours later, we're all just sitting there. Jacob reloaded his gun and put it in his pants. We all had a bit of our new weed. I was giggling at the television, it's always so easy to tell they are actors faking it when you're high.

Kelly seemed to calm down a bit. A bit. But then he saw the flashing coming from the bag. A little red dot. He screamed at Jacob and me.

What the fuck is that?

As if we didn't all know.

A Bad Situation (Prequel to Making Them Count)

I was scared, because it was scary, so it made sense.

He brought a gun! I don't know why, but he had a gun. This wasn't the kind of operation that would require a gun, was it? I didn't think so, but then again, I've never done anything illegal. Either had he I bet, I bet he just brought one because he's seen movies and television.

I've never seen a gun in real life before, either had Sharon, but she was playing cool. I guess I was playing cool too. It's important to play cool, when someone has brought a gun, and is playfully pointing it at your face and saying bang bang bang.

Fuck, I'm even laughing. Fucking Jacob. I'm so uncomfortable right now.

I guess we need a gun in case our deal goes bad. But I thought we were just going to pick up like a couple pounds of weed and then sell it. What could possibly go wrong right? I mean, yeah, like, a lot. But not like, gun worthy shit right?

It made me uneasy, like maybe Jacob didn't have his share. Like maybe he was planning something else.

I told him to put the gun away, jokingly...nicely. It worked. I said that we were going to be late picking up our stuff.

The three of us are roommates. We've only been living together for like, a couple of weeks. When Jacob can't come up with rent. Either can Sharon. I'm fine, I have a job, not a good job, but a job. I can pay rent. That's when Sharon said that she knew some guys who wanted to sell a fuck ton of weed, and we needed to just buy it, and then we would sell it, and everything would be fine.

Money is money after all. Of course I agreed.

So yeah, now we're in a car. Jacob's I guess. Never saw it before. I'm realizing like, half way there, that it's probably stolen. I really wish I knew this guy better, but Sharon says he's cool. So he must be cool right? I know Sharon pretty well.

I fucking thought I did.

We pull in to the back alley. We get out of the car. We wait.

We waited for what felt like an hour. It probably wasn't, I was just really stressed out. I couldn't get it out of my head that like, maybe I was making a huge mistake. I know that if anyone who knew me growing up could see me now, they wouldn't be overly impressed.

But I had never really been that impressive.

A car pulled up. Two guys came out. I had a brown paper bag that was supposed to have to money in it. I walked up to them, said hello. They didn't say anything back. I gave them the bag. They gave me a black duffel bag. I walked away, with my back turned.

Just head towards the car, that's all I was thinking.

But that's when I heard the shots.

I dropped to the ground. I peed myself.

Not surprising.

*Authors Note – One more perspective to wrap up this story, coming up soon*

Non Fiction. Some thoughts and imaginings.

My favorite moments, have been the moments when I've been able to take a step back and feel as if I am floating through my life, outside looking in, and I can appreciate the love, dreams, hopes, and beauties that are comprised in it, allowing me to feel at peace. There is a sigh involved. My shoulders fall back and I am relaxed.

Maybe it was a song that made me feel this way. Maybe it was just a beautiful smell. Or boredom that shaped itself to bring me back to a charming memory.

In those moments I can laugh to myself and smile. Not even bothering to look around to see if anyone is looking. Just smiling and laughing.

I'm not the first person to write about this kind of moment, or feeling. I hope I am not the last. While somethings are redundant. I don't see how space battle after space battle. A group of rebel travelers trying to overthrow a king. Detailed descriptions of horrible living conditions in some places of the world. The struggles for love, peace and respect are more unique, and more worthy of our attention and writing than that of happiness and love. Tragedy is great. All life has tragedy. Most life has happiness. But the reminder that we all share, every now and then, the moments of appreciation and happiness, can never be redundant, if those other subjects aren't considered to be as well.

Back to the moment, perhaps you already know it. It's imagining yourself on a beach (Which in my personal experience has always been better than actually being on a beach) and hearing ocean waves, calming and breathing and feeling alive. Basking in wonderment, allowing each wave to overcome you, because despite knowing why they wave, that doesn't take away their power.

Sometimes, I can get a little silly with my imagination to get me to that place. I'll imagine giving and alien a hug. The spaceship comes down, and they say greetings, and I hug them, and give them all the love that I have in this world to offer. And the alien creature and I run skipping down a boardwalk.

Sometimes I'll imagine bunny rabbits dressed up like people, walking along a rainbow road. Trying to act like people, but it's hard. Because they are rabbits. They're having fun trying though. They aren't dressed up like real people. They're dressed up in nineteen twenties dress. Like The Great Gatsby.

 Always puts a smile on my face.

UNTITLED

There is a soft hand touching my back. It's gently moving up and down, on it's way up I can feel the blunt part of the finger tips. On it's way down, it's nothing but skin. I wonder, which way I prefer. I can't decide which one is better. I hope, that these sensations will continue long enough for me to decide, and longer still for me to enjoy my knowledge of the preferred.

There is a breath in my ear, it says I Love You. The touch hasn't stopped. God, if you look upon me now know that Samurai have killed themselves for less. This moment can never be repeated. This pure joy and ecstasy can't last. I might as well stop after this moment. Nothing will top it. I'm in love, and there is no tomorrow.

Passion is to suffer, to suffer is to live. A life without passion is no life at all.

Don't take me back to the old moments. Don't push me back in to a world that doesn't hold on to this. Don't. Please, I need this.

Passion is to suffer, to suffer is to live. 

I'm not alive without this. I wasn't alive before this.

I'm meant to live without it.