Climax

_{[1]<- What's This}

L I F E S T O R Y
"
I finally understand why people enjoy a good story so much. It gives us all a chance to experience life through the trials of someone else without having to make any sacrifices of our own. We even go as far as investing a part of our spirit into the journey and excitement of a good story so that we may feel the tug of emotion and the sting of disappointment the character may encounter. We want to know what it might be like if our life were this way but we don't really want our life to be a story.
"

This is the first post of the new year. An opportunity to start things off fresh and new. Exciting huh? A chance to kind of start over and redirect my focus on the things that are truly important to me and you. This is the moment I've been waiting for. The big reveal. The part in life's story where we are absolutely sure we know how everything is going to end. All the clues have been gathered. All the characters have been introduced. All the alternate possibilities have been exhausted. We know the story is about to come to an end. Oh wait a minute! That's not how life works huh?

There are no neat little wrap ups to separate one chapter from the next. Real life is a never ending cliffhanger. There are ups and there are downs but you never know what's coming up next.

I finally understand why people enjoy a good story so much. It gives us all a chance to experience life through the trials of someone else without having to make any sacrifices of our own. We even go as far as investing a part of our spirit into the journey and excitement of a good story so that we may feel the tug of emotion and the sting of disappointment the character may encounter. We want to know what it might be like if our life were this way but we don't really want our life to be a story.

Stories are too neat. Even though life is not a sloppy heap of endless duty and activity have you ever tried to write out every single thing you've done in a single day including the most mundane and menial of all tasks? One day alone would almost equal the length of a grocery store novel. We like stories because they remove all of the "ordinary" and talk only of the things most important in moving the plot along. Its like life minus the B.S. (literally).

Stories inspire us. Stories make us want to change our life. We realize that the characters (although fictional) had to overcome some grand obstacle and it makes us feel as though our simple trip to the dentist is no big deal. They forces us to focus our attention on how everything is interconnected and better asses where we are trying to go. They makes us take a step back and look at the big picture. They allows us to laugh at yesterday and lose sleep while waiting for tomorrow.

Our "life" story isn't over until we die. I just hope someone will read mine and laugh or cry along with me as I reveal what I've gone through. I hope my life makes a good story. Everyone appreciates a good story.

You all have a nice year. I'll be right here.

The End.

Acid Rock Rinse Cycle Grunge Metal Razor Kiss

_{The following is based on true events as recorded from a dream.}

3am A.M. wakes me

Punching me in my chest

Gripping at my heart

Twisting painful knots into my cycle of breaths

I gasp

I gasp

I gasp for air poisoned with the taste of bitter smoke

It courses sharply through my bloodstream and marches directly to my brain
It stains my sheet with a salty wet substance of my own glands
Its almost as though I had taken a swim in the ocean
yet I was only in the basement
The dingy dirty dark filthy black silt covered tomb at the bowels of what some might call home

I descend rapidly

Falling not walking into its hollow stone lined flesh intestines

Corridors twisting

Family gathers under yellow tinged luminescence

The view is like a pee stained disco

Flickering monitors imprison nude wriggling bodies

They all laugh

They all smile

They call out Domino and King me

Their arrogant ignorance disturbs the air

Killer rats with gnashing teeth emerge from their holes

Jumping

Biting

Shooting brown machine gun pellets from their asses

I was frightened

I didn't know which would be worse

To die of disease or from the loss of bodily fluids

The precious blood that god gave me

I vowed to protect it

I run

Stumbling up an infinite flight of stairs

Panting

Gasping

Swimming upstream like a spawning trout

Rats hanging from my flesh

Sweat dripping from my brow

I just want it to be over

Eye wide shut I bang my head against hard light

It stuns me and I fall

Slowly

Drifting down like I was held aloft by angel wings

Feathered and white

Crowds gather around me

I plant my head firmly into the earth

It felt like pillows

Relaxing

Warm

Soft

I arose from a small pool of my own saliva

blood

teeth?

The world spun around me

The boys in blue walked by me

Not offering a hand

Not asking if I were ok

Did I need help

I stood

I dusted off the disgust of my making

The dirt of the ground

Gods magic formula and began to walk

I thought this was a nightmare at first

But there she was as beautiful as ever

I drifted in her direction

My intention was a single kiss

Her lip silently called to me like a siren song

I wanted to hum along but my mouth was crusted shut

I could feel my teeth chattering the drum solo

I drifted

Bumping into pedestrians

I drifted

Leaving over turned tables in my wake

I drifted with no means of deceleration

It was an inevitable crash

Screams

Food tossed all over

Ketchup stains my shirt

The boys in blue don't believe my story

I am grabbed by the arms

Led back into the basement

One of them grabs his weapon

I break free

Catching his chin with the butt of his own gun

I planted my bare feet sharply into the toe of his boot

His screams disrupted the skies

They turned black and angry

The basement now looked more safe

I run dizzily towards its mouth

Down its throat

Once again withing its bowels

The rats now drive tanks

My mother battling them with a cast iron skillet

Whack

She knocks them around like haphazard Tennis serves

Whack Swack Pow

They smash against the wall leaving interpretive modern art splatters

The air is thick with violence

My chest burns

My throat aches

I just want to go home

All is quiet

My sister is walking alone through an alley

I walk up and hug her

I tell her every thing is going to be ok

She grins

The dream now ends

5am yells at me

pierces my eardrums

I wanted to scream too

The room spun into place

Reality reconfigured

I walk over nude to turn it off

The nipping cold reminded me of a recent journey

One with rats and sentinels

I commence in the standard morning debate

Obligation wins this round

I descend the carpeted stairs

Remnants of a dream still hanging on

The world of darkness painted with surreal memories of an unconscious mind

There she was waiting for me

I lift her up onto my lap

I began to stroke her softly

The words flowed from my mind to my finger tips easily

She understood them all

She translated every scene of my dream into its digital manifestation

Maybe you were there too?

My chest still burns and there are scratches on my hands

Maybe I am my own worst enemy

All I want to do

Is wake up...

~Tigga76