2018: A Space Oddity, III

III. Player One Isn’t Quite Ready

There was a resounding thump as the door closed behind me and a fairywind kind of a whirling sound as it disappeared behind me.

I was standing in a room that seemed familiar to me in many ways but not in any kind of way that would have been useful. As in, a way that would tell me where I was. I wasn’t in my bathroom anymore and certainly wasn’t in the dimension of nothingness that I had just walked out of.

I was in a barren space with eggshell color walls and a carpet to match. There was no furniture, no signs, no posters on the walls, no signs of life. Only a large room with orange-tinted fluorescent lighting shining high above from a ceiling I couldn’t make out. There was a wavering hum permeating throughout the space at an odd frequency, no doubt emanating from the lights above.

“Where am I?” I asked aloud. No response. “Umm…hello?”

Where was that specter that I had encountered earlier in the mirror? It been awfully chatty since it had first shown up. Now, the lack of response was deafening, making the humming frequency seem even louder than it had before.

My history has shown that staying in one place for too long can be detrimental but there was no indication that anything had heard me. I walked around for a while, trying to gauge the volume of the space I was in.

And by that I mean, my face smashing into a solid surface.
With nothing around me, I had no sense of object permanence.
I went from walking along to a “Falcon Punch!” strike-like blunt force to the nose sent me falling to my ass from an invisible force, as if i were a character from a rudimentary 3D platform game from the early 1990s running into the borders of the land that the game developers created.

Typical, isn’t it? To be forced to participate in something that I didn’t agree to by a being I don’t really know because of the threat of what could happen if I didn’t listen.

It’s hard to say how long I was walking around trying to find something, anything. Could have been hours, days, months, even years. Maybe only a few minutes. The passage of time feels a lot different when there’s no point of reference.

All I can remember is my feet hurting. And wet, from either sweat or blood. My eyelids were heavy and my breath inconsistent.

The eggshell walls around me began to cracm, flaking away, falling below my feet into the nothingness. All I could do was watch.

And I watched as the nothingness transformed into something. Something, an area that I could recognize.

An area.
A place in time that I had believed I had completely forgotten.
And wish I had.

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insomnia.werks

I created a celestial rock EP/mixtape.

I first got the idea months ago. Insomnia runs in my family & i was blessed enough to get it as well.

I spend many, many nights wide awake. With far more energy than is entirely necessary for a time when the rest of the world is asleep. Instead of wasting time until I was tired enough to eventually fall asleep, I decided to do something constructive with that time.

Introducing insomnia.werks.

Every single sound you hear on these songs were performed & produced by Me.

I hope you enjoy.

1. VY

2. Narcissis

3. Josephine: The Blue Allen

4. Purrty

5. Saturn Salutation

A Disturbance In The Force

The last drop of The Witch’s Brew passes between the lips

it takes control of the hips & makes the body dip on an unworthy stick

if only there was a way to forget

Wait a minute. Something’s wrong.

I’ve already taken the last sip.

The cauldron is empty.

now what?

I’ve got a bad, bad feeling…that this has happened before.

I put the key in the door but it was already unlocked from the disturbance from the time b4.

Therefore

I go to The Witch to get another batch.

She groans in a gravely hum

“Surely you haven’t finished the last order already? What could you possibly need it for? You’ve only just hatched.”

I walked away without a reply. No sense in applying a layer of logic on top of the illogical. It’s like spraying a bottle of pungent perfume over body odor.

It’d only highlight what was meant to be erased.

what now?

Posting a blog post, I suppose.

well. I may as well go back over yonder.

bc I know if the only thing The Witch will loan me right now is an itch

I know good & well

someone else (or something)

will give me what I need.

A Reading: Declaration of The Hill Dwellers

source post: Declaration Of The Hill Dwellers

You dare look me in the eye & say
the aged intensity of punk rock doesn’t smolder in my soul
That I don’t carry the torch of my fallen punk ancestors
Laid to rest by the 9 to 5
Spikes combed forward, ‘hawks brushed to the far left
lookin’ no good, no bueño
flown off to nowhere special.
Memories fade. Scribblings remain.

How Dare
You spit in my eye
as I walk down the aisle to claim the prize
The most damned prize so rightfully mine
of everlasting life & peace of mind
No price is right when the price hanging over my head, es
no good no bueño
Measured in wealth with no real value,
Chop it up thrice & serve it chilled sided with grilled
chopped heads of men & mice

How Dare
You poke me in the eye with sharp edges
from a bill you figured your generation would
have paid in full by now
Shoot daggers in my back, my shoulders buckle
under the weight of the price on my head
But behold this truth!
That the price is not mine! The price is not right!
It’s No Good, No Bueño!

That’s why I
Dare to fly northward &
onward & on & on
Gone that way, pulling the reverse switch
past 1992, past time
past the time of the No Good
Of whatever remains past the No Bueño
past the punk
rocking out with no one special

Memories fade. Scribblings remain.

Site Update/A Jaded Community Pool

How is everyone? Anyone still read this site? Ok, good. Here’s what I’ve thinking about lately.

I recently realized that I’ve had this blog for several years now. The rules of Time are something I respect but don’t follow at all.

It doesn’t even feel that long ago. I remember the night I signed up on WordPress. I didn’t have a plan & I can’t rightly say that I do now.

With that said, I’ve grown a lot since I started this blog; emotionally, spiritually, and more. My life is in a different direction & it only makes sense that the things I share on this blog reflect that. I never want to force content & I’ve realized I’ve been having difficulty with creating.

So. I have a lot of ideas swimming around in my head & too much planning is causing them to drown and make me feel over-hydrated. I don’t where shore is exactly but I’m picking a direction and going that way, full speed ahead.

Here is the space for any feedback you’d like to share/or any questions you’d like to ask about my work & this blog. Whether positive or negative. Whether you’ve been following me for a while or you’re just tuning in.

I want to hear from you. I only ask you be constructive & courteous.

A Place For My Stuff

ralphsteadmanbookofdogs8

Artwork by the legendary Ralph Steadman



a dog that chases its tail will be dizzy
not accomplishing anything
though it feels busy
can’t find its bones buried beneath the backyard tree
next to its goals
wow. that’s shitty.
if Melvil Dewey saw this, he’d be in a tizzy

but he’s dead.

and my shovel has dulled away from overuse
there’s a copious amount of my possessions
strewn about like a poltergeist had gone mad with vigor
i feel like i do when someone calls me a nigger
my emotions as tangible as a phantasm
my thoughts as straight forward as broken sarcasm

my cognition & body are skinny
& i feel as superfolous as Our Lord’s daily bread

………

some actions are better left undone
words left unsaid
scabs left unscratched
crimson tears better left unbled

oh, if only i had somewhere to rest my head.