I Fly Home Tomorrow

I fly home tomorrow to a place I dont belong
A place that seems to fade around me like the last note of a song
I fly home tomorrow to a place that held my life
A place that held my everything my family...my wife?
I fly home tomorrow to the things i left behind
A place i thought that only held these unique items of their kind
I fly home tomorrow to this world i used to know
A place that is assaulted by torrid sheets of snow
I fly home tomorrow my life has changed so much
A place that no matter what it has it lacks a lovers touch
I fly home tomorrow what awaits back their for me?
A place i feel i've forgotten, my eyes are open to see

The Ones Around Us

The ones we love, the ones we've lost, the ones we soon will meet
The losing of a best friend, feeling lost on a strange street
The chances that are taken
The ones we lose instead
The ones that we try and gain
The ones we soon forget
Ones is such a simplicit way of talking about our past
Ones are the people in life that flow in and out to fast
Ones that we will conquer, divide, and soon then love again
Ones that take, and take, until they've taken up a friend
Ones consumed, ones desired, ones worth everything
Ones i know and ones I don't and ones worth never again
Ones to steal the purpose
Ones to seal the deal
Ones who offer up their prayers
And ones we have to kill
Ones who have the mark on them
Ones who deliver the message
Ones who don't own a thing
And ones who own the dressers
Ones that never have to pay
Ones that always do
Ones that never walk the line
And ones who fill the shoes
Ones who take for granted
Ones who love the lord
Ones who believe in nothing
And ones following the devils chord
Ones blessed above all else
Ones all covered in sin
One fulfills prophecies
And the ones that never begin
Ones that walk the ends of time
Ones that shine on through
Ones that defy the way things are
And ones that speak the truth

Mystic

Your eyes reflect intelligence and love for those you know
Your coat is covered with speckles of black in background white as snow
You shine when smothered with love, kisses, hugs, and often treats
We just want to save you from the savageness of the streets
When we look upon you, or say the name you know
Those eyes spark with enthusiasm, you ache to put on a show
When we walk into your room, that tail wags to and frow
The mischief that we see in you begins to grow and grow
Yet love for you conquers all the imperfections that we see
And love is the answer to the riddle that Mystic seems to be
Love is what we give to you, to us Mystic your bound
Love is what has made us know Mystic, a home you've already found

Prisoner

Hands moved over my body in that terrible hellish place, the noose that the huge balor had passed around my neck had been drawn tight and I was being drug throughout this immense cavern like I was on display for all to see. The cackles and whoops from the many deformed figures around me reminded me of monkeys at the zoo, the way they laughed at you and pointed like they secretly knew all life’s secrets, but would forever keep them to themselves.
My eyes moved back to the boy/demon sitting on the throne of ivory or fire, the two kept changing so rapidly that I could not differentiate between which was real….or were they both real? The beautiful mouth smiled like the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland, yet the demonish snout curled into a smile, one that mimicked a lion before the feeding.
His eyes never changed, they were the one constant that helped me focus to realize that both images were the truth. My heart was deafening, its pounding seemed to create a cadence that the demons flowed to, dragging me in rapid pulls, ever closer to the monstrosity that sat atop the dais at the end of the cavern.
Fire seemed to free float in this place, and magma was in deep pits everywhere, but here in this place I could not tell if they were real or my imagination, so many things seemed to be from my fantasized view of hell and I began to wonder if the demons were reading my mind.
At this realization, the noose around my neck was thrust forward by the largest of the balors. He was a deep crimson and ebon skinned monstrosity. He was easily 9 feet tall, heavy set chest, bulging arms, with scales running the lengths, above his neck sat an evil simian face, one the mocked humanity, and yet emanated intelligence. His eyes were not the passionless of my killer, but were pitch black, and I knew that this creature was pure unadulterated evil!
Of all the things I had seen here this creature was the first to cause my bowels to revolt, I felt the warmth of urine flowing down my leg, for the 1st time in my life or afterlife, I knew what fear was, and I knew I didn’t want this thing to speak.
His ape like face seemed to snicker as if evil could find humor in anything. His mouth never opened, but I still heard it invading my mind, forcing its way in.
The voice that spoke in my head was nightmarish, it rasped, guttural noises that I could barely distinguish as syllables, that turned into words as if being instantly translated by some greater consciousness. “Youuu haavvveee beeennnn jjjjuudgged! I aaammm iiinnn ccchhhhaaarrrgggee oooffff yyyyooouuuurrrrr tttrrraaaannnnsssssfffoooorrrrmmmaattiiiooonnn. Nnnoooowwwww kkknnnnneeeellll bbbeeefffooorrreeee yyyyyoooouuuurrrr ttttrrruuueeee goooooddddd”!
Hearing this guttural voice speak with such fluidity and intelligence put me in a state of shock, and my legs were being compelled to bend into a kneel, and looking at the beautiful regal man before me I wanted to. Then the transformation took hold and it wasn’t the man but the monster and my half bent knees straightened knowing that if the simian creature was evil, this thing on the throne was the epitome of sin, and all that is wrong with everything.
“Knnneeeelllll”! Waves of white hot heat flowed over my body in shockwaves, my skin blistered and popped, forcing me to scream for the 1st time since my wings had been destroyed. I felt my eyes begin to melt again, and could feel the skin all over begin to drip like wax from a too long lit candle. The pain was immense and without thinking of the repercussions I knelt, immediately feeling the pain subside. The itching sensation of healing began, and when the roars begin I knew I had made the wrong decision.
The immensely evil balor picked me up throwing me over his shoulder, his hands burned deep into my skin, and from his shoulder I could smell the breath that reminded me of ash and hot coals. He was not gentle with the way he carried me, banging me into walls, and hitting my head on underpasses that moved to accommodate his enormous girth, then suddenly snapped back into place jolting me in the upraised head.
We twisted and turned and everywhere I looked it was as if hell was on vacation, all the inhabitants were standing on the two sides of this cavernous road we were traveling on, it was like some kind of macabre parade, but we were the only exhibit.
Strangely I realized that escape had never crossed into my mind and I knew that the thing carrying me had read this thought, this time there was no mistaking it, he outright laughed. If wheezing billowy eruptions from an apelike creature that stood 9 feet tall could be called laughter.
“Where are we going? I dared to speak, what is it that you are going to do with me”?
My jailor responded again without speaking, but his voice vocalized inside of my head, “Too bbee ttrraannssffoorrmmed”.
Another queer thing, this things speaking seemed to be improving.
“Transformed? Into what”? No answer went off in my head. “Answer me you son of a bitch”!
With that he slammed me into the ground, I felt my spine shatter, skull fracture, and many other bones in my physiology I couldn’t identify break. His maw moved to within inches of my face, and he spoke, it was the same voice, guttural and disturbing, only it seemed that much more human, “Never speaaakk ooff ttthhinngss you kkknnnoooww noootthhhiing aaabbout. Tthis iiisss yyoouur fffiinnal wwaarning”!
Groaning on the ground, he moved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a rod, one with angels wings on it, much like the ones they had removed and cauterized from my body. He waved it over my broken body and immediately I felt tissue and bone mend and heal, moments later it was if nothing had even happened to me.
“What the hell”? Questioningly and cautiously I looked up at the demon that had destroyed my body then somehow healed it.
The voice vocalizing in my head again, “Nnoot heellll, iii toookkkk ttthhhhaaattt ooooffff ttthhheee llllaassssttt aaannnggeeelll I killleeeddd”! The pleasure I heard in my head, made me unsteady, and with all that I had been through I swayed on my feet for a few seconds and passed out.
Awakening in and out of consciousness, the halls seemed to be growing darker and the only light source was free floating fire every 15 yards or so. The heat in this hallway was immense, and it forced my eyes to squint. Looking up I saw that my transportation was smiling a toothy grin and I found myself believing we were headed towards this denizens abyssal home.
Once again he could read every thought that I had, “YYeesss I llivvveee heerrreee…..bbbuuutttt wwweeee aaarrreee gggoooinnnggg tttooo aannoootthheerrr ppplllaaacccee…a pplllaaccceee oooffff ccchhhaaannnngggeee”.
How accustomed I had become to a voice speaking in my head, yet it felt as if I was constantly being raped, and assaulted mentally in this place, I could feel the residue of his evil probing on my brain. It was like muddy water being in your mouth, the water was clearly there, but you could still feel the dirty texture of objects floating inside.
A large oval shaped steel door appeared ahead, its onyx coloration gave it a shape shifting appearance from the flickering of the floating fire; However the closer I got to the door, the more it seemed to actually be moving, there was strangely no handle to push on, nor did there seem to be any type of a lock.
The demon gently lowered me to the ground and placed both his hands against the door, the warmth from his hands seemed to soak into what 1st had appeared to be steel, was a dark oak. His fiery hands seemed to heat the door and the dark coloration begins to glow. When enough heat had been absorbed eyes shot open from inside of the door, they were cold calculating eyes and glowed with an orange hue, one that bordered on the sun’s radiance. Then a mouth appeared. It spoke with a wizened accent, one learned over an ancient amount of time. “Is it time again? It has only been a few centuries”.
My demon captor looked at the eyes and spoke to him, although nothing was said out loud, it was certain there was a confrontational battle of wills, and it seemed that my captor was not all powerful as I had come to believe. Sweat flowed down his muscular body, his muscles twitched with strain, and his eyes were straining to maintain locked visage with the door.
“You will upset the balance! The door screamed, it is too soon, think of what you are doing (demons name) even your evil soul knows this is not right”. The strain in the voice was that of one about to be defeated who was changing tactics to begging.
(demons name) I had heard that somewhere before, I knew him somehow, we had a past, but my memories were in heaven where I had left them. Left them when I was stripped of all that made me human, when I was being accepted into heaven. I knew then that I was not allowed in because of the hate and the evil feeling I had brought with me. By fighting to hold onto those shark eyes that murdered me I had damned myself.
(demons name) said aloud with perfect clarity, “It’s not my decision, it is my masters bidding, and you know (doors name) that not even I can ignore those orders”.
His accent was surely (Islamic, Persian, or Egyptian whichever character I choose from the bible), I have never heard either, but instinct told me I was right. Something about the confidence in his voice made me feel like he was someone important from his time, and I knew he definitely was ancient. For the 1st time I noticed that he was not speaking English, nor was the door, the dialect and language was something I didn’t understand, yet I could speak it fluently and understand it as well.
(demons name) pushed his hands against the door, fire leapt from his hands, it was wrapped all about him, then it shot into the door, I could hear the door screaming and knew that it was being forced open. I knew all of this had something consequentially bad to do with me and I jumped up from my seated position and ran!
Pumping my legs and arms I began to run as hard and as fast as I could, only the hallway in which I was running like so many other things in this place seemed to come alive, it elongated, preventing me from ever really getting anywhere. My mind erupted into panic, the noose was still hanging from my neck and the rope was still dangling back where I had started…..
The pain was only for an instant, the rope was pulled tight, and my neck was snapped into two. The feeling in my legs and arms was gone and I knew I had been paralyzed. I heard a thump as disorientation took hold and I knew the thump had been me hitting the ground. My face was buried in the chilly heat of the cobblestone floor; even the floors in this god forsaken place were hot enough to burn your face.
I did feel the hand close around the back of my neck, it wrapped easily all the way around and my eyes registered the rise in the air as (demons name) picked me up and slung me roughly over his shoulder again.
A mental barrage assaulted my being, and even though I couldn’t feel my body, pain erupted inside of my brain; my screams tore throughout the hallway and my eyes saw that we had passed beyond the door that (demons name) had battled earlier.
I could already feel my body healing, although it would take some time without the healing powers from the wondrous rod at my demon jailors belt.
His mouth curled into another hideous smile, I knew he was reading my mind again. We both knew he didn’t have to tell me that he had no intentions of healing me again. He bellowed with that awful laughter at this thought, and gave me a mental image of an altar, with demons all around it, and I was tied to it. All sorts of creatures were closing in around me and no matter what I did I couldn’t escape. Somewhere in the crowd the beautiful man was laughing, only it kept getting closer and closer until he was on me, hands caressing my face telling me he loves me and that I was his chosen one.
Fear sent waves throughout my body and I realized that I could feel my toes numb, but I could feel them. I looked up at (demons name) and tried to peer through to see his real image, the one that was hidden, or the one that was real, I hadn’t decided yet. All I saw in return was a aura of blackness that seemed to shield him from my strange talent. Again he laughed, knowing that my feeble attempts at rebellion were futile. For the 1st time since I arrived in this hell, I too felt like all that I did or could do was futile. My will was broken and the worst was still to come.
At this thought (demons name) spoke again out loud, “Yyyessss ttthhheee wooorrrssstt isss sttillll aahheeaaddd”. His voice and statement sent a shiver down my now mending spine, and for a moment I wished that it would have just stayed broken. With this thought (demons name) erupted with laughter, and once again began our walk to where I knew my fate was going to be decided.

.

Ceremony

The vision passed over me, still that incarnation of evil and his laughter would not leave my mind. (Demons name) looked down at me with a knowing gaze, one that spoke of experience with this particular subject, knowledge of what I was thinking and the futility that resided in my heart.
God had rejected me, earth had given me up, and it seemed hell was the only place that wanted me.
Pain no longer seemed to affect my being, it was as if I had acclimated to it, the way someone acclimates to climate, or heat, or cold. This cleared my mind and allowed me time to see exactly where I was and exactly what was going on.
I was in a circular room; there were lines of white above me, deeply traced into the pinnacle of this immense cavern. They formed a circular shape, one that seemed to create a place where a door or portal should have been, but no longer seemed to be open. This I knew was where I had fallen through, yet somehow I had ended up somewhere else in this hell, this place of pain, and suffering. This place that had the smell of a hospital, and a tomb, the stench of rotting flesh invaded my nose, and the feeling of death crept into my being. This feeling made a chill shoot down my spine, and my heart to race, my vision blurred, and I turned my head in time to see that all of hells creatures were staring at me.
Sitting atop his throne, one that seemed to follow him wherever he went, the beautiful man cast his regal stare on me and I knew that my time had come. Whatever they had planned on from the beginning it was about to culminate to fruition.
He smiled knowing my every thought, and with that I visualized the hand I had seen in heaven. The beautiful majestic hand that had reached out to me to deliver me from all of life’s sins, that hand had promised nothing but good things, and yet I could not release the hate I felt for that man that had murdered me. I concentrated on that hand and the whiteness around it and for the moment, the demons and their masters seemed to melt away, leaving me in tranquility.
Peace passed through my body and mind, I felt all of my injured body heal, and then the monstrous fist of (demons name) smashed in between my shoulder blades. It seemed to explode on impact and I thought my body had been split apart. Yet the hand I was visualizing seemed to absorb the pain and even though the shock of the blow made me lose my concentration and I was catapulted back into the hell I had momentarily escaped, I knew I was not damned.
Hands grabbed at me from all directions, I stared at the beautiful man and his evil eyes, and smiling I accepted whatever fate my true God had set forth for me.
The smile of the beautiful man turned into an inhuman snarl, and his transformation took place not within a blink, but before my very eyes, even the thought of the hand could not block all the fear that came into me. The body of the beautiful man just exploded, blood and gore went everywhere and emerging from within the shell that once had the look of a man was the monster, its twenty foot frame dominated the room and his evil hands waved forth his minions and he spoke, “Begin the ceremony, (demons name) the time has come, and the portal will soon open.”
(Demons name) turned and looked into me, he had a pious aura about him, and one that promised to deliver what had been asked of him.
Quicker then I imagined something of his size and girth could move, he produced the reverse looking cross from out of nowhere and his bulging muscles sent it down towards my midsection. A piercing feeling erupted into my stomach and the flow of blood was partially stemmed from the huge object that was protruding out of me. The end of the cross that had just passed through my stomach, struck the ground with a crash, and I found myself pinned, a crack began to open a hole through which an altar moved upwards. It was the altar from my premonition, and I knew that all that I had imagined was going to come to pass.
Screeches and roars, cheers, and hoops, all manner of noises animal, guttural and unimaginable roared to life. I felt like I was in some sort of macabre zoo, the noises were matched by creatures straight out of a nightmare. Large and small, doglike, apelike, serpent like, they each emanated evil, and each had their devilish eyes trained on me.
Looking around the room some more, I viewed the great spectacle of (demons name) doing what could only be described as performing the ceremony. He had stripped all of his armor, and items on his belt. He stood impressively naked, corded muscles flexing with strain, his apelike face looking extremely more human. He had a dark aura floating about his body; it made him hard to see, yet outlined him in a way that made him look as if he was in this crowded room all alone.
From above us, the white lines begin to swirl, and become a corporeal gate, one that looked like a maelstrom in the middle of the ocean.
Somehow I knew that, that gate was the way out of this hellish place. My hand raised in the air, reaching for something that was impossibly out of my reach. If only…..
(Demons name) reached out and touched the upside down cross that was impaling my stomach, more pain erupted in my stomach and I knew that this wound was not healing. That familiar itch was not present, and I knew that for the first time, I could be completely destroyed.
Holding tightly to the cross (demons name) used both hands to steady himself; I could tell through gritted teeth that this was putting great strain on him. His stomach opened up with a grotesque wound, one that resembled the one I knew was in my own stomach. I could feel superhuman strength flowing into me, and I realized that we were sharing each other’s energies. This cross was transmitting part of each of us back and forth, it felt like I was being ripped into pieces then formed back together again all at the same time. I could not stand it, my mind began to rip, I knew that much more of this would result in my insanity. My God! I thought to myself, this apelike creature was doing this same thing to himself, his piety for his false god must be immense.
Clarity was restored to me, and I saw (demons name) collapse onto the floor, I felt my hands wrap about the impaled cross and yank it out of the ground and out of my stomach. The wound immediately closed the blood flowed back inside, and no trace that I had ever been wounded could be detected. I looked around first checking to see that (demons name) had not recovered yet from his weakened condition. Then I looked to the portal, its swirling was slowing, and I knew my time was short. This was my one and only chance to escape this place and I knew somehow that I had the newfound abilities to escape.
My muscles felt more corded then they had been in life, I felt as if I had grown and somehow the ceiling seemed that much closer to me. Fear hit me in waves, and I knew I was being compelled to kneel. This could only mean one thing, the monster/beautiful man was looking at me. My extra sensory reflexes seemed honed to a fine edge, and from the feel of the stare I knew exactly where the beautiful man was. I wheeled on my pivot foot, turning my hips and conjuring my ancient ancestors I threw the cross like a javelin at the monster that had once been the beautiful man. From the moment it left my hands I knew that it was going to strike true. My mouth curled into a smile that was defeated as my projectile weapon was turned aside by some sort of shield that I could just make out in an outline of lavender.
Something inside of me told me to run, yet I felt like I should kneel before the power that was this thing. Deliberating this, a huge familiar apelike creature crashed into me, knocking the air from my lungs, I instinctually wrapped my hands around (demons name) hips and threw him as hard as I could. Not really expecting anything, I felt him fly over my head and heard him crash into the wall behind me.
Stunned, I knew the other demons in this pit of hell would be on me in moments. And I knew that somehow I had to get through the dissipating portal above me. Concentrating somehow I knew that I could make it. Running, I leaped into the wall, using my newfound strength I pressed my feet down hard as I could into the cavernous wall and leaped again. Even with the two massive leaps I knew I was going to come up short, but the maelstrom seemed to be creating suction, and I became caught in it. It pulled me upwards and I knew that I was going to escape.
Hell had never heard joyful laughter before. It had heard cruel laughter, and revengeful laughter, but hell had never heard the laugh of a child, or the laugh of a loving family. For a brief moment the flames seemed a little less hot, the air seemed a little sweeter, and hell was for that brief moment in time a place filled with hope. This moment passed like so many others throughout history as a single human man escaped from the place that was inescapable. This event would not be remembered or spoken of as (demons name) and the beautiful man systematically destroyed all of the lesser demons that had seen these events unfold. Yet just for that brief time, good had triumphed in a place that evil ruled completely.
The maelstrom felt like water, but I could not be certain that it was not just my imagination. So many things in this place seemed to be created from my mind, and not real. The water passed over my over heated body, and steam began to rise all around me, creating a grayish fog that blocked my view.
Gone was the sound of the screeching demons, gone was the telepathic roars that were constantly in my mind, gone were the rapists who took all my thoughts and used them against me. The silence reminded me of the time when I was floating in the white, and the feeling that I was being transported from one place to another hit me stronger than either of the past times.
The reality that I was actually escaping took hold, and I began to question my escape, was it really happening or just an illusion created in my mind by (demons name). He had done similar feats to me before, and letting me believe I was escaping definitely would be the cruelest thing that he could possibly do to me.
The fog started to disappear and the steam against my eyes made it difficult to see, but I thought I felt something warm in a pleasant way passing through. My feet hit something substantial, and I knew my transport had come to an end. Whether I had actually escaped from one hell, and ended up in another was being blocked by the fog of the steam from my body and the maelstrom.
A sound broke through the barrier that was the grayness, it was a chirping sound that resembled that of one of the demons, and the feeling of hopelessness returned. My shoulders slumped and I believed that my earlier worries of being teased by (demons name) were coming true.
Then the sound seemed to force the grayness away, and sunlight shone through, hitting my face causing my sensitive eyes to close, and immediately I could feel the life force that had caused the chirping sound. It was a few hundred feet away now, flapping its small wings and gaining altitude. Standing there squinting my eyes into the setting sun watching the bird fly, I was reminded of my wings, and the angel I should have become. And I finally knew I had escaped, for no demon could have created something of this magnificent beauty. No demon no matter the greatness could ever imagine a sight of this purity. The way the slight breeze was blowing the great trees and the greenness of the grass that seemed to go on and on as far as I could see. With this realization, I knew I was back on earth.
The tree I had appeared underneath cast a slight shade on my body, and with escape becoming a reality, all that I had been through assaulted me at once. The torture, the pain, the loss of grace, the eyes of a killer, it all came tumbling down and coupled with exhaustion I felt myself become weightless. I struck the ground, and blackness overtook me.

Prisoner

Hands moved over my body in that terrible hellish place, the noose that the huge balor had passed around my neck had been drawn tight and I was being drug throughout this immense cavern like I was on display for all to see. The cackles and whoops from the many deformed figures around me reminded me of monkeys at the zoo, the way they laughed at you and pointed like they secretly knew all life’s secrets, but would forever keep them to themselves.
My eyes moved back to the boy/demon sitting on the throne of ivory or fire, the two kept changing so rapidly that I could not differentiate between which was real….or were they both real? The beautiful mouth smiled like the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland, yet the demonish snout curled into a smile, one that mimicked a lion before the feeding.
His eyes never changed, they were the one constant that helped me focus to realize that both images were the truth. My heart was deafening, its pounding seemed to create a cadence that the demons flowed to, dragging me in rapid pulls, ever closer to the monstrosity that sat atop the dais at the end of the cavern.
Fire seemed to free float in this place, and magma was in deep pits everywhere, but here in this place I could not tell if they were real or my imagination, so many things seemed to be from my fantasized view of hell and I began to wonder if the demons were reading my mind.
At this realization, the noose around my neck was thrust forward by the largest of the balors. He was a deep crimson and ebon skinned monstrosity. He was easily 9 feet tall, heavy set chest, bulging arms, with scales running the lengths, above his neck sat an evil simian face, one the mocked humanity, and yet emanated intelligence. His eyes were not the passionless of my killer, but were pitch black, and I knew that this creature was pure unadulterated evil!
Of all the things I had seen here this creature was the first to cause my bowels to revolt, I felt the warmth of urine flowing down my leg, for the 1st time in my life or afterlife, I knew what fear was, and I knew I didn’t want this thing to speak.
His ape like face seemed to snicker as if evil could find humor in anything. His mouth never opened, but I still heard it invading my mind, forcing its way in.
The voice that spoke in my head was nightmarish, it rasped, guttural noises that I could barely distinguish as syllables, that turned into words as if being instantly translated by some greater consciousness. “Youuu haavvveee beeennnn jjjjuudgged! I aaammm iiinnn ccchhhhaaarrrgggee oooffff yyyyooouuuurrrrr tttrrraaaannnnsssssfffoooorrrrmmmaattiiiooonnn. Nnnoooowwwww kkknnnnneeeellll bbbeeefffooorrreeee yyyyyoooouuuurrrr ttttrrruuueeee goooooddddd”!
Hearing this guttural voice speak with such fluidity and intelligence put me in a state of shock, and my legs were being compelled to bend into a kneel, and looking at the beautiful regal man before me I wanted to. Then the transformation took hold and it wasn’t the man but the monster and my half bent knees straightened knowing that if the simian creature was evil, this thing on the throne was the epitome of sin, and all that is wrong with everything.
“Knnneeeelllll”! Waves of white hot heat flowed over my body in shockwaves, my skin blistered and popped, forcing me to scream for the 1st time since my wings had been destroyed. I felt my eyes begin to melt again, and could feel the skin all over begin to drip like wax from a too long lit candle. The pain was immense and without thinking of the repercussions I knelt, immediately feeling the pain subside. The itching sensation of healing began, and when the roars begin I knew I had made the wrong decision.
The immensely evil balor picked me up throwing me over his shoulder, his hands burned deep into my skin, and from his shoulder I could smell the breath that reminded me of ash and hot coals. He was not gentle with the way he carried me, banging me into walls, and hitting my head on underpasses that moved to accommodate his enormous girth, then suddenly snapped back into place jolting me in the upraised head.
We twisted and turned and everywhere I looked it was as if hell was on vacation, all the inhabitants were standing on the two sides of this cavernous road we were traveling on, it was like some kind of macabre parade, but we were the only exhibit.
Strangely I realized that escape had never crossed into my mind and I knew that the thing carrying me had read this thought, this time there was no mistaking it, he outright laughed. If wheezing billowy eruptions from an apelike creature that stood 9 feet tall could be called laughter.
“Where are we going? I dared to speak, what is it that you are going to do with me”?
My jailor responded again without speaking, but his voice vocalized inside of my head, “Too bbee ttrraannssffoorrmmed”.
Another queer thing, this things speaking seemed to be improving.
“Transformed? Into what”? No answer went off in my head. “Answer me you son of a bitch”!
With that he slammed me into the ground, I felt my spine shatter, skull fracture, and many other bones in my physiology I couldn’t identify break. His maw moved to within inches of my face, and he spoke, it was the same voice, guttural and disturbing, only it seemed that much more human, “Never speaaakk ooff ttthhinngss you kkknnnoooww noootthhhiing aaabbout. Tthis iiisss yyoouur fffiinnal wwaarning”!
Groaning on the ground, he moved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a rod, one with angels wings on it, much like the ones they had removed and cauterized from my body. He waved it over my broken body and immediately I felt tissue and bone mend and heal, moments later it was if nothing had even happened to me.
“What the hell”? Questioningly and cautiously I looked up at the demon that had destroyed my body then somehow healed it.
The voice vocalizing in my head again, “Nnoot heellll, iii toookkkk ttthhhhaaattt ooooffff ttthhheee llllaassssttt aaannnggeeelll I killleeeddd”! The pleasure I heard in my head, made me unsteady, and with all that I had been through I swayed on my feet for a few seconds and passed out.
Awakening in and out of consciousness, the halls seemed to be growing darker and the only light source was free floating fire every 15 yards or so. The heat in this hallway was immense, and it forced my eyes to squint. Looking up I saw that my transportation was smiling a toothy grin and I found myself believing we were headed towards this denizens abyssal home.
Once again he could read every thought that I had, “YYeesss I llivvveee heerrreee…..bbbuuutttt wwweeee aaarrreee gggoooinnnggg tttooo aannoootthheerrr ppplllaaacccee…a pplllaaccceee oooffff ccchhhaaannnngggeee”.
How accustomed I had become to a voice speaking in my head, yet it felt as if I was constantly being raped, and assaulted mentally in this place, I could feel the residue of his evil probing on my brain. It was like muddy water being in your mouth, the water was clearly there, but you could still feel the dirty texture of objects floating inside.
A large oval shaped steel door appeared ahead, its onyx coloration gave it a shape shifting appearance from the flickering of the floating fire; However the closer I got to the door, the more it seemed to actually be moving, there was strangely no handle to push on, nor did there seem to be any type of a lock.
The demon gently lowered me to the ground and placed both his hands against the door, the warmth from his hands seemed to soak into what 1st had appeared to be steel, was a dark oak. His fiery hands seemed to heat the door and the dark coloration begins to glow. When enough heat had been absorbed eyes shot open from inside of the door, they were cold calculating eyes and glowed with an orange hue, one that bordered on the sun’s radiance. Then a mouth appeared. It spoke with a wizened accent, one learned over an ancient amount of time. “Is it time again? It has only been a few centuries”.
My demon captor looked at the eyes and spoke to him, although nothing was said out loud, it was certain there was a confrontational battle of wills, and it seemed that my captor was not all powerful as I had come to believe. Sweat flowed down his muscular body, his muscles twitched with strain, and his eyes were straining to maintain locked visage with the door.
“You will upset the balance! The door screamed, it is too soon, think of what you are doing (demons name) even your evil soul knows this is not right”. The strain in the voice was that of one about to be defeated who was changing tactics to begging.
(demons name) I had heard that somewhere before, I knew him somehow, we had a past, but my memories were in heaven where I had left them. Left them when I was stripped of all that made me human, when I was being accepted into heaven. I knew then that I was not allowed in because of the hate and the evil feeling I had brought with me. By fighting to hold onto those shark eyes that murdered me I had damned myself.
(demons name) said aloud with perfect clarity, “It’s not my decision, it is my masters bidding, and you know (doors name) that not even I can ignore those orders”.
His accent was surely (Islamic, Persian, or Egyptian whichever character I choose from the bible), I have never heard either, but instinct told me I was right. Something about the confidence in his voice made me feel like he was someone important from his time, and I knew he definitely was ancient. For the 1st time I noticed that he was not speaking English, nor was the door, the dialect and language was something I didn’t understand, yet I could speak it fluently and understand it as well.
(demons name) pushed his hands against the door, fire leapt from his hands, it was wrapped all about him, then it shot into the door, I could hear the door screaming and knew that it was being forced open. I knew all of this had something consequentially bad to do with me and I jumped up from my seated position and ran!
Pumping my legs and arms I began to run as hard and as fast as I could, only the hallway in which I was running like so many other things in this place seemed to come alive, it elongated, preventing me from ever really getting anywhere. My mind erupted into panic, the noose was still hanging from my neck and the rope was still dangling back where I had started…..
The pain was only for an instant, the rope was pulled tight, and my neck was snapped into two. The feeling in my legs and arms was gone and I knew I had been paralyzed. I heard a thump as disorientation took hold and I knew the thump had been me hitting the ground. My face was buried in the chilly heat of the cobblestone floor; even the floors in this god forsaken place were hot enough to burn your face.
I did feel the hand close around the back of my neck, it wrapped easily all the way around and my eyes registered the rise in the air as (demons name) picked me up and slung me roughly over his shoulder again.
A mental barrage assaulted my being, and even though I couldn’t feel my body, pain erupted inside of my brain; my screams tore throughout the hallway and my eyes saw that we had passed beyond the door that (demons name) had battled earlier.
I could already feel my body healing, although it would take some time without the healing powers from the wondrous rod at my demon jailors belt.
His mouth curled into another hideous smile, I knew he was reading my mind again. We both knew he didn’t have to tell me that he had no intentions of healing me again. He bellowed with that awful laughter at this thought, and gave me a mental image of an altar, with demons all around it, and I was tied to it. All sorts of creatures were closing in around me and no matter what I did I couldn’t escape. Somewhere in the crowd the beautiful man was laughing, only it kept getting closer and closer until he was on me, hands caressing my face telling me he loves me and that I was his chosen one.
Fear sent waves throughout my body and I realized that I could feel my toes numb, but I could feel them. I looked up at (demons name) and tried to peer through to see his real image, the one that was hidden, or the one that was real, I hadn’t decided yet. All I saw in return was a aura of blackness that seemed to shield him from my strange talent. Again he laughed, knowing that my feeble attempts at rebellion were futile. For the 1st time since I arrived in this hell, I too felt like all that I did or could do was futile. My will was broken and the worst was still to come.
At this thought (demons name) spoke again out loud, “Yyyessss ttthhheee wooorrrssstt isss sttillll aahheeaaddd”. His voice and statement sent a shiver down my now mending spine, and for a moment I wished that it would have just stayed broken. With this thought (demons name) erupted with laughter, and once again began our walk to where I knew my fate was going to be decided.

Revelation

A sense of weightlessness and a feeling of floating 1st erupted into my mind, no thoughts of what had just happened invaded. The pain was no longer there, it was erased just like all the memories of before this moment. The thoughts of my family, friends, enemies, even the guy that makes my coffee were dissipating from my mind like chalk being erased from a board. Was it a bus? A bullet? Damn can’t recall anything but this feeling of floating it’s like the commercials of the NASA space astronauts. My eyes burn so very badly it’s like I have never viewed anything this white, the incandescent light is emanating from the floor, the ceiling, the walls, it’s like being in a room that doesn’t seem to have any walls. The light is actually the walls, there is nothing encapsulating me or holding me in this room, but its like I am floating, I can’t tell if I am floating upwards, or downwards, it’s like I am in limbo.
The realization of what had actually happened assaulted my mind all at once, I remember being shot by the robber in that gas station. How his eyes had shot hate at me at the exact moment that I had reached for the gun and grabbed his arm, that hate had hit me at the same time as the bullet. It was the last thing I would ever recall from earth, and it was becoming so very hard to hold onto that physical realization, everything was being torn from my mind, I am being stripped away of my freedoms, thoughts, my very humanity. That hateful look, I would remember it, nothing would take it from me, I hated that, that man had taken my life, he had robbed me of all that I was, and I would be damned if I would forget what he looked like or what he had done to me.
Fighting so very hard to hold onto that memory, I could feel my kids being torn from my mind, could feel my love being ripped away, so our 1st kiss floating out of my head into that light, could feel her soft body against mine being replaced with an emptiness of sorts, one that let me know something had been there, like the man that had his arm amputated, but still moved it while speaking although it was no longer there. This mental rape took all of my fantasies, all my desires, robbed me of everything that made me….me.
Pain was left to me; it was the one thing other than that man’s face that I was left with, the roaring pain the explosive pain that erupted throughout my being, it felt as if my spine was being torn into pieces. Screaming into the light, my voice was robbed of its decibels when it hit the light it became silent.
My shoulder blades were twisted and turned, my sinews ripped, I felt skin erupt, blood poured out over my arms, it ran down between my fingertips. Screaming only to hear the sound disappear into the light my back turned to accommodate whatever it was that was happening to me. Holes were bored out in my back, and I felt the tickling sensation of skin healing how I itched and then the blood ran back up my fingertips, flowing upwards it seemed back into my back and I felt the leathery sprouting and the smell of dander emerge from my back. Sensation returned and strangely I felt like I had more limbs, the wings that had grown into my back made me feel like I had four arms, I had complete control over them, it was as if I had been born this way.
Stretching my new limbs my amazement was satiated by the feeling that all was right, and I almost let go of the man who had shot me, and the hate that went with his visage.
My wings were an amazing white, one that matched the walls of my confinement. Moving them only made me feel better, made me feel freer. I longed to soar as I knew I could, to fly out over the world and to discover what I was truly intended for. The feeling that I was finally where I belonged, where life had intended for me to end up burst through my being, it filled me up, made me full, replaced all the memories that I had lost, my wife, kids, loved ones, fishing with my father. All of these seemed trivial compared to the eyes I felt watching me, the eyes of my true father, the one that I knew had made me. The being that had put all the complexities that had made myself…myself. The love I felt moving through these white confining boundaries fell into me and I knew that that feeling was only the surface, it was only the top of the wellspring that was this love, this being, and this heaven that was being offered to me.
The hand moved towards me reaching for my own, even the hand was beautiful it was silken looking, I knew it was the softest, yet most powerful hand in existence. Everything in my mind made me want to reach and take it, it was the right thing to do, to take this wonderful hand and to accept this wonderful feeling. When I moved my hand to take his, a wall of light and white stopped my hand, it blocked me creating a field that I could not penetrate, I tried to force my hand through but fire and pain welted my hand, forcing me backwards. Every time I went to take this angelic beings hand, that man that had killed me’s shark eyes filled my thoughts and would not leave, that hate had followed me here to this place and with it I was not going to be allowed in.
With this realization the sensation of floating stopped, the walls of my confinement stayed true, but the one below me grew steadily darker, and with the broken congruity the feeling of floating was replaced with falling!
Then the real pain started, the feeling of floating became more than a feeling, it became a reality, I could see the movement of my surroundings blurring, and try as I might my new wings would not stop my propulsion to the ground.
The burning started, my clothes or skin, I was moving far too fast to tell seemed to melt, it was as if I was coming through the atmosphere, like a spaceship, yet I did not have a burn shield, my eyes melted away from the infernal heat, blood poured from every orifice of my being, my body became a lump of smoldering pitch. At some point I ran out of blood and skin, even my skeleton had melted, yet still I remained corporeal, my wings were still physically there, but I was moving far too fast and with no eyes all I could experience was feeling. The pain and heat intensified exponentially as I felt myself approach the ground. And with an enormous crash I felt what I thought was my spine shatter on what felt like a jagged massive rock. My wings twisted and broke, they were no longer L’s but now felt more to resemble a S. This pain was the worst, the breaking of my spine or whatever it was; the burning sensation of what I hoped was my skin, and then the hands, scaly and claw tipped. The claws tearing into me, creating an itching sensation like when a cat scratches you, and oh how they tore into my wings, the most sensitive property of my remaining body, they pulled and tore and ripped, some of them must have brandished tools made specifically for this purpose, because a sawing sound buzzed into me, and pain mounted worse than anything you could possibly fathom, no words, no voice, nothing could explain the pain and feeling that decimated my will and shattered all of my remaining being.
Yet still the man’s hate filled eyes remained, no matter the pain, no matter the horrors They inflicted upon me, I could not shake his eyes, the eyes of a killer, one that no more thought about the man he had shot then what he had had for dinner the night before.
Still they worked on my wings, I could hear screeching sounds from their in my mind doglike lips. Explosive pain erupted through my left shoulder as one of my wings was sawed and torn off, the nub was still trying to move, and I could feel it twitching my mind was shattered and I could not even focus on the man and his evil killer’s eyes. Fire spewed forth from the hole where my wing had been scorching the remaining nub off and destroying all the evidence of the purity and peace I had experienced moments earlier.
The exalted screams of the doglike creatures reached an all time high when my other wings was ripped from my body and fire poured forth decimating all my hope of ever reaching the place where I knew I wanted to be.
Their whoops and hollers slowly began to rationalize in my mind and began to form words. “The master is coming! He will be pleased to know we finally broke him down”. The guttural tone of these creatures held a strange respect and I knew I didn’t want to meet this master they were referring to.
After all the pain, I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that I could still think, could understand these strange creatures, and still why I could still feel my skin, even though it was beyond hot in this place. Also my eyesight was slowly returning, it was like I was being tortured and painfully hurt, yet I was healing at the same time, as if it was all one big reciprocal circle, pain, heal, pain, heal.
As sight returned to me, it was like awakening in the middle of the night, you can’t actually see, but there are silhouettes everywhere of objects shrouded in black; however in this case a fiery silhouette shrouded everything, and there were no shadows, because this cavernous pit I found myself in had no sun, and in a place so very likely hell, there could never be a sun. The ceilings seemed to go on forever even though I could see the tops I could not gauge how tall it actually was. The walls were a blood red although every fifteen meters or so on the floor there was a pit of bubbling lava, emitting a gas I could only gauge as poisonous.
The creatures were just that creatures, they resembled things from the Island of Dr Moreau. Animal mixes with lacerating wounds all over their bodies like that of a whip lash. There were large ones, small ones, middle sized ones, and for every hundred or so I saw there was a even larger one resembling a 13 foot tall doglike pit demon, they each wielded a whip with a fork tongue, herding the smaller demonoids forward forcing them to march in procession towards a dais. Where sat halfway towards the ceiling the largest monstrosity I have ever seen.
His mouth curled into a smile, one that mocked humanity, tusks protruded outwards like that of a giant boar, he was easily 20 feet tall and thicker than any football player could ever hope to be. His fingers were all the same length, each had a thick claw on the end, and scales protected the exposed parts of his body. Armor plating of some metal I have never seen before coated his chest and legs; no helmet was needed because of an immense broken crown with a blood red ruby set in the middle that sat atop his head. Next to his throne, one that was entirely made of flames, flames that didn’t burn this behemoth, sat a rod, one in the form of a cross, this cross was upside down and it became apparent just who this monster was.
Looking right at this monster, gritting my teeth to concentrate, his eyes were the exact same as the eyes of the man that had killed me. Blinking from the heat that had filled my eyes, I reopened them to find myself staring at the most beautiful man I have ever seen. He resembled a movie star, but one that had an aura about him that demanded respect, demanded love, and demanded respect. His naked body was one you would find on a magazine cover, and his face was that of a greek marble statue. Perfection smiled out over his now transformed demonoids, they had transformed into humans, looking like a crowded street in New York, and they all bowed to this man appearing to be in his thirties. His smile curved and his beautiful features accentuated, making my knees go weak.
Strangely I couldn’t recall what he had looked like earlier before I blinked.
I desired this man, I wanted him, wanted to make him happy, and would do anything to make him notice me. I could tell that he knew that everyone in this room desired him, the way he sat in his ivory inlaid throne gave it away. I suddenly wanted to look in his eyes, wanted to see the eyes of perfection, to know what true desire looked like. When I stared into them they had not changed from earlier, and those memories came crashing down, his eyes, the eyes of a killer shone out over all of his now retransformed demons. With this realization I could see him for both of his sides, like those things you buy your kids that if you tilt one way you can see one picture, then tilt the other way and see a different picture. That is what this man/monster became to me. His lie had been exposed and I recalled the love and serene feeling I had felt before my plummet. At this time I knew that I had to find a way back to that place, and I knew I would do anything to earn my way back in.
Optimistically I hoped that my torture had subsided, and the pain actually began to dull to calm, needles in your skin kind of pain, instead of flesh melting blood boiling pain.
Crack! A whip! I began to laugh to myself, wondering how cinema had gotten the ideal of hell so perfectly right. It was so cliché yet the pain was so very much underscored, a chain of fire was fitted around my neck and the man on the throne stood and pointed at me. The fire burned my neck I could feel the heat against the bone, and I knew that my pain had only just begun.

Such A Great Distance Is Holding Us Apart

Such a great distance seems to be holding both of us apart
Somehow, someway, without touching you already held my heart
Your lips voiced out your country twang and them I ached to kiss
Such a great distance makes me think of all that i have missed
The right job? The right life? The right girl? Whichever should I choose
It seems that no matter how I pick, the others I will lose
You make me think about all the choices I have made
The life ive lived! The love ive had! the cards that i have played
Yet smiles seem to dominate and overlay the cries
But when I think about you I wish I had two lives
You made me care about you more then others I have known
You did all this with text messages, pics, and conversations on a phone

Strangers Passing

We never meant to fall in love when 1st we locked our eyes
The depth and emotion I found there completely took me by surprise
You stared at me and looked right through all my imperfections
That stare devoloped all throughout and broke me into sections
You looked at me and saw the boy that wanted to be a man
Your eyes they knew everything, from birth, to life, my plan
I missed a step because of you, your mouth curled to a smile
And just like that we walked on by; both affected for quite awhile

Why Were All Alone

From the first kisses we have nervously had
To the love that we have lost
From the passion that revolves in us
To heartbreaks awful cost

For life is always throwing at us all that it can muster
From cheating hearts, and midnight love, the tears forever after
The ride is all that matters not the fall or climb back on
The feeling that we all get when there is no more cheers and laughter

This love seems like a carousel, around the same predestined track
We wish that we could find something more, something worth our time
We wish that we could summon forth the will to love our kind
Yet we all know the reason were alone is our own sad petty crime.

Dreams Within Breaths of Seconds

The tiny breaths we take in the insignificant seconds we live in. No memory is too sharp that it remembers all that the eyes have seen, nor all that the nose has smelled, not even the pain we felt or pleasure we have recieved. Life is so strange how it glitters before us with all the hope of all the millions of seconds that we have, yet as they tick away our dreams become realities, or become something we just place on a shelf, sighing to ourselves about all that we could have accomplished. Those breaths we take among those seconds we live within a reality that we have discovered can be anything we decide that it is. The empowering lives we all live make us fear that someday we will achieve all that we desire, because the beauty of a dream lived within a breath within a multitude of seconds is that dreams are things that are never supposed to become realities. Otherwise they would be goals, achievable beyond measure, dreams are what make human beings the envy of all living things.

The Man I'd Be For You

Amazing how your smile one that I barely even know
Makes me pause and think about all the places this could go
To hear your voice the one that matches that sparkle in your eyes
To know that every guy sees you as nothing more then a prize
Something about the way you walk or just the way you stand
Makes me feel an utter fool for all of my life ive planned
I'd change plans or capture stars, or just be there for you
The man that you deserve i'd be, eternally and true

Waters of Change

The world is a series of ever changing shapes, in this it is essentially easy to understand why most of our planet is made up of water. Water is one of the most malleable of compounds. It can be a solid, a liquid, even a gas. Water much like the people of the world is constantly changing, often sustaining life, sometimes destroying it! It takes on so many shapes there is no distinct view of what water really is, nor what its full potential could be. This makes water so like the human race because of it volatile nature, and its complex adaptive systems. Given time water can change landscapes, seep into cracks unseen by the human eye and then change shape by freezing and given enough time can destroy entire buildings, roads, and bridges. This is comparible to human beings who over time have changed the entire landscape of the world, building empires of brick, masonry, and timber. These changes of the scope of our world are monumental to be put lightly and one can only wonder when our time to change shape will be, when we inadvertently destroy a metaphoric bridge or building that is the world we live in.

Chapter 1

Breathing deeply, the padding footfalls of a lone jogger on a blank stretch of highway smoothly accelerated up a steep embankment of a familiar hilltop, this hilltop was one he had climbed every morning for the last four months. The familiarity of the run calmed the mind that was although tranquil on this run always at unease. Rhythmic breathing followed by rhythmic joggers’ steps propelled the man onward towards his destination, towards his home…. Strangely it felt like home, but the man knew he was on borrowed time, always They came for him, always They found him, and always unspeakable terrible things happened to the inhabitants of the places he called home. Closing his eyes, the man continued to run the road he knew so well, taking in the fresh scents of the Colorado mountain air, he knew there was a family of deer nearby, although how he never really understood, it was one of his gifts one of the ones he had paid so dearly to receive. The gifts always got stronger when They got near, always They found him, how he never knew, but for once he was considering running, escaping from Them before harm could come to the inhabitants of this sleepy mountain town he had made his home. Fear was not really a part of it, but the empathy he felt for the people of the town called Diggers Ford, they had touched him somehow, invaded into him the way he had invaded into them, and for once the fear he felt for himself had changed into outrage at what They would do to the people of Diggers Ford to try and catch him, to try and take him back to that place. Gods! That place! A cold sweat erupted out on his skin causing goose bumps to explode onto his forearms and the nape of his neck. The sense of the family of deer bedded down a mile or so off of the highway charged into his mind and he knew they like so many around them were healthy, and happy, having just had a fawn the mother doe was nurturing him, he could feel the love emanate out of her towards the spring ling, could smell her glands and how they mixed with her fawns. He could also sense with amazing clarity the whisper of the mountain lion stalking nearby, she would narrowly miss the bedded down deer, but it was only because the wind was blowing downwind of the lion and the mother doe would smell the predator long before he arrived. Amazingly how this situation mirrored his own, how he knew his predator was coming for him, yet he wanted….needed to stand his ground and defend what had truly for the first time in what seemed like lifetimes become his true home. Curse Them! He screamed at the top of his lungs, and with the same clarity he had sensing the animals, he knew that They had heard him, that They were so very close now, and They had powers that rivaled his own, although in dark twisted ways, ways that defiled life, powers that would demand many lives and cause vast amounts of pain!
The road began to descend towards the room he rented from widow Nel, she was an older woman, in her late sixties, and her husband David had recently passed on from a heart attack. This had left her alone and having a farm to run and little money left over from the insurance policy she had taken to renting rooms out to wayward travelers in exchange for some sweat and good ole fashioned put your back into it work.
Graham Sullivan had met Nel four months earlier while walking through town on his escape from one wrecked place to hopefully somewhere he could find some peace. She had immediately noticed his solid frame not from a sexual viewpoint but one of a seasoned trader who understood what she perceived as the true value of a man.
Nel pulled her old 1988 Dodge Diesel up and manually rolled the window down to get a better view of this impressive looking stranger. Nel noticed right off that even riding in her oversized diesel rig this man could look her directly in the eye, he must be at least 6’3, and the width of his shoulders hinted at a frame of at least 230lbs. She instantly liked this stranger, something sad in his bluish green orbs said I’m a good man, I’ve just hit hard times, you can trust me and I would never hurt you. Strange how those exact words went off in her head and at the same time she felt as if she had formed them and put them there.
What a catch Nel thought, now if he only likes fried chicken and biscuits I can broker a deal. She smiled to herself when she thought of this, because who had ever met someone that didn’t like fried chicken and biscuits anyhow!
A few hours later the two of them were seated at her dining room table deep in conversation that only seemed to be stemmed from one side of the room, and from one oversized pudgy mouth.
Nel had never been a beautiful woman, she resembled a tomboy, always wearing jeans, and a ball cap, always comfortable and always smiling, even the death of her husband could not slow this woman down. Nel has an appetite for life and being able to cook had put a sparkle in her chestnut colored eyes, one that unmistakable said yes I was a mother, yes I was a housewife, yes I am a god faring Christian, and yes wipe your damn feet before you come in my house!
The conversation stayed mostly on key about working arrangements, and Graham after some doing had been talked into taking a room in the guest house, as well as a minimum wage paycheck, and free meals. Before dinner concluded, Nel looked at Graham, at the quick way his hands moved about his plate to stack his dishes, and how his entire body seemed in tune with whatever he seemed to be doing, it was even like that with the way he climbed into the back of the truck! He resembled a dancer and a football player, it was such a strange combination, but Nel disregarded it as good fortune, and filed it away to pray for her new found friend and employee.
Nel spoke as the two of them stood…”Graham, where are you from? Are you running from something?” and strangely she added, “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Graham composed and with those same sad eyes locked into her, and he spoke the first sentence she ever heard him utter, “Mam, I came from a place I never care to go again, and yes I’ve been running all my life, and I thank you for wanting to help, believe me you are”. With that Graham slid out of the room with that athletic stride ducked under the doorframe and silently let himself out to the guesthouse.
Nel was soothed by his voice, it was not remarkable at all, but something in the undertone, something in it the same way as his eyes, said I have been and seen more then you could ever imagine, and none of it was good. Yet here I am still alive, still living life and still a good person. Nel decided right then to spend a long time with her prayers that evening.
The following day Nel woke early as usual, around 5AM and began the task of preparing breakfast, something about having a man to cook for again had made her feel ten years younger and she celebrated this by cooking: pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, and hot maple syrup.
After setting the table Nel realized that Graham was still not up and she decided that she was more than spoiling her lazy help and with that she was out to scold him for not being up yet. Opening the door to the guesthouse caused an ole creak, and Nel thought how lax she had been with the house since Davids death.
Looking inside Nel realized that the bed had not been slept in, that nothing had been disturbed, she began to wonder if the man she had trusted so completely the night before, had actually become a thief of some sort or done some other terrible things around her farm.
A noise outside broke her daydreaming state, it was the cow in the barn, and the horses whinnying, something was definitely disturbing them, Nel prayed that Graham had not ventured into the stall with Thunder, he was an ex race horse who she had rescued from being made into glue or some other monstrosity.
Racing herself out to the barn, Nel turned the corner seeing the barn door halfway open, and she imagined the scene that would be in front of her,
Graham lay sprawled out, blood running from his head, and his shoulder half out of its socket, a slight moan escaped his lip, yet his life was surely slipping away. Nel heard herself scream and knew that Graham was going to die. Thunder snorted and stomped the ground with his powerful forelegs, he bucked and his forceful back leg crushed Graham’s skull. No more sound came from either of the two humans lips and Nel felt as if she had lost her only child, she felt worse than when she found David out on the pasture lying in the now auctioned off tractor.
Graham stood inside of Thunders stall, stroking the tip of his nose, feeding him some old carrots he had found by the door. A calm serene aura stood around the two of them, Nel had never before seen someone look so right standing beside an animal, nor had she seen an animal look so right standing beside a human. She felt an intense pride in him, and a disdain for herself for not having trusted him. She instantly felt like she had acquired a new son and rightfully so, she and him could share with one another, they had both been through loss, and both seemed to be searching for something the other could provide. Nel had no idea what all Graham had been through, and Graham did not believe that Nel was the one he could confide in about his past and about Them!
Over the next few days Nel was even more impressed with Graham and his amazing talents with the animals on the farm. He could almost understand them it seemed, and when he needed something from them he would just lock those sad eyes into theirs and seem to ask them with his stare, and every time they would do as he wanted.
His physical prowess seemed limitless, it was if he was a giant furnace that ran on Nel’s cooking, and he would work all day and come in at night like he had been napping from sun up to sundown.
Their conversations grew and grew; they blossomed from one answer, to full sentences, to sometimes Graham going as far as to ask her a question. Strangely none of their conversations ever went anywhere concrete, they always talked about the farm, or the town, or about how he had found a hunters trap on Nel’s property, but never anything about him, his past, or where he was headed.
Nel was confident that soon they would move into the conversations she knew he desperately needed to have, but she figured a day off into town would do them both good. So at 5AM the following morning Nel told Graham to get in the truck, and that they were going to town for a lil R&R and to get him some clothes for church.

Ode To An Irish Legend

You've made women blush, you've made women swoon
You've played Bond on Earth and Bond on the Moon
You've been Harrisons dad, you've been a regal king
You've died in the Highlander with one awful swing
You've had all the lines, and drank all the booze
Strangely you've never starred with Tom Cruise
You've been the voice of a dragon, with the heart of a child
You've been in bloody fuckin movies and some that are mild
You've died a ton of times but the bad guys always fail
Because in Crusade Indy gave you a drink from the grail
The penitent man will pass I remember you saying
When shot from a Nazis gun the ground you were laying
You taught Connor Mcloud all that you could
But acting lessons given instead of you should
You've been quoted as saying women need slaps
All I can do is cheer you and clap
You and Kevin Costner stopped people from drinking
All I can say to that is what the hell were you thinking
De Niro had a gangster kill you with a tommy gun
The league of extraordinary gentlemen wasn't much fun
Indy 4 is coming I hope it is soon
Before your bedridden and being fed through a spoon
Your definitely a legend and a titan of your time
But the Entrapment with Catherine Zeta was surely a crime
Now finding forester wasn't half bad
I mean a black guy looked up to you like you were his dad
Then there is the rock with Nicholas Caige
In First Night you got cheated on and put in a rage
Never forget Rising Sun with Wesley the Snipes
Thought you were racist bet there were gripes
Oh the Medicine Man who looked for the cure
Might be your best your character so pure
Then you defected from Moscow on a sub
And you had to act with a Baldwin, Oh what a scrub
But I will never forget that you were James Bond
And all of your movies I'll always be fond.

Mask We Wear

When are we at our most real? Is it when we feel protected from judgement? Is conformity that powerful? Our trends in fashion dictate so much about our lives, yet some of us still are so fake and unreal to ourselves that we don't even know who we really are. Quoting "Hamlet" "to thine own self be true" Strangely Hamlet is in disguise throughout most of the play and through this disguise is more real then he could possibly be otherwise.
How often have you been to a Halloween or Masquerade party, where people are acting completely crazy, this I am certain we have all been exposed to. Why is it that people so protected behind masks will act out their most carnal and innermost desires? Is it that with no one to know who we are we feel free to do anything? I relate this to drinking so very often, masks are not always things cut to look like werewolves or other creatures, masks can be drug related, alcohol related, or even identity related. Am I not more or less writing this anonymously in that am I not wearing a mask of some fashion.
Masks...i remember times when I drank so I would have said or done anything; However the next day I regretted all I had said and done, but my mask had allowed me to do those things. We are definitely responsible for our actions even behind those masks, but that sheer ability for us to wear them to accomplish our goals seems to me that the human race has lots of identity issues, mostly warped senses of who we are supposed to be. I have fallen victim to this at karaoke bars where I wouldn't sing because of people not liking it, or not dancing with the girl because I'm not the best dancer in the world. Countless other things come to mind, where if only I had been wearing a mask at the time to hide my identity I would have done things I actually really wanted to do. This has got to stop, it is time for people to live how they want to live, watch what they want to watch, read what they want to read..etc.....etc...etc...
Masks are a fine thing, something to supplement you like a crutch, but if you constantly have to rely on it to get you in to places that you want to go, or to do things you want to do, then you have lost a large portion of your identity, and in essence your you.

Ode To a Woman

Only you can make me smile, laugh and cry and talk awhile
Only you can make me breath, shallow, deep, or in between
Only you can bring me hope, somewhere to live and ways to cope
Only you can take me home, a place to truly call my own
Only you can make me see, that I is better as you and me
Only you can bring me life, truly worth living my loving wife.

A Night With My Grandmother

Strangely my childhood is not one that I remember all too well, some children recall everything even saying they remember being born. Me thats not quite true with, I didn't have a remarkable childhood nor did I have an unremarkable childhood, I would say from the pictures I have seen that it was happy, one filled with birthdays and bicylces, trick or treating, and christmas presents. However unlike most people who experience traumatic events and then can't recall them due to shock or horror, I can honestly recall every instance of the worst night of my life. Even thinking of it now makes the hair on the back of my neck stand upright, and the shiverees to bubble all over my forearms. I'm going to tell you about the night my parents left me all alone with my grandmother, the night they didn't come back till I was completely hysterical. I never really liked my grandmother which is not atypical for a young boy, all of my friends used to tell me how much they loved their grandmothers and how they would bake them cookies and knit them sweaters with their names on them, not mine, she drank scotch, loved Yahtzee, and smoked Marlboro reds from 8-80 from what I heard my mother say when she was not around.
My grandmother was a powerful woman, one of those women small in stature but powerful in spirit, she could move mountains with a lift of a brow, and freeze pit bulls with a stare from her cold blue eyes. She was at times someone I loved although I couldn't tell you why, she had no real endearing qualities, I think it was that instilled love the kind you have because your expected to love the person because of their hierarchy in your family, but no I definitely never liked my grandmother. Strangely my parents always left me with her when they went away, like she was a loving moral authority figure! It was likely due to the fact that at the age of 88 my grandmother moved in with us after a minor heart attack, but i think it was because my parents were too lazy to get a babysitter.
This particular night like all upsetting stories occurred on a dark and stormy night, one where the wind was howling and the moon was full and all manner of creatures stalked the night searching for souls and young boys to eat. That last line was one directly from a story my grandmother used to tell me before bedtime.
Sneaking out of bed, I peeked through a crack in my door at my grandmother who was sitting in her rocker in the next room, her gaunt face concentrating on the fire crackling in the hearth, with each rock she took another drink of her Johnny walker scotch, slowly lowering the levels of her drink and the color from a rich caramel to a dirty brown. I prayed she had forgotten about me, sometimes she would when her drinking was in excess, sometimes I prayed, please let it be a sometime! My breathing was that of a small child trying to control their breath inexperiencedly which only resulted in the holding which eventually caused the deep louder breathing that was being attempted to be masked in the beginning.
Wait....the rhythmic creak of the rocker stopped.....I look again through the crack into the mad drunken eyes of my grandmother! A loud yelp slides out of my tightly sealed lips, and I bolt for the bed and the protection of my covers, strangely my feet and hands are pistioning but I'm not moving any closer to the bed...if anything I am moving further and further away! Whimpering I realize that my night shirt, my favorite one with the motorcycles on it is around my shoulders pulled against my neck and I'm being drug through the living room to the fireplace.
The mad woman cackles and oh god! How the feeling of fear permeated from my body, it was worse then the scary movie your afraid of most, the time you got pulled over when you were drinking, or when your dad was on his way home to whip your ass for doing something to piss off your mother. Those mad eyes locked with mine and bubbles of fear pocketed on my skin, those clammy hands wrapped around my throat cutting off my ability to breath. She moved her mouth close to mine and the smell of the drink flowed from her mouth to mine, I felt intoxicated but it did not do its job in numbing the lashing I received from her with the hot iron poker from her fireplace, from her favorite spot in all the house she hit me over and over across the back with a hot fiery red poker. Screaming for her to stop, she spat obscenities about me spying on her in her own house, and how no rotten boy deserved to live where she broke bread. Over and over I felt the pain rise then fall till numbness...then blackness....M
My parents found me lying in the floor half a bottle of johnny walker at the foot of the rocker next to me, a now jet black cool poker laying next to my bloody back. They rushed to my side begging me to tell them what happened? I tried to speak but words could not form, I was in shock, but it was the shock that locked those awful memories into my mind forever, locked eternally the fear of my grandmother into my very being. Finally I spoke, revealing the truth, that my grandmother had been the one that beat me savagely. Eyes looked at me with crazed amazement! For you see my grandmother had died the day of her heart attack, she moved in not so soon afterwards, and strangely I was the only person that had ever seen her. I know have a residence in a hospital for the disturbed and the insane, no one has ever believed my story although I know my mother still finds half empty bottles of johnny walker by the fire and the rocker on a regular basis, I'm sure she just passes it off in her mind that its my father, but you and I know better.

Anime is Surely Gay

We all have flipped through the channels where adult swim plays late at night and late night anime is playing. Now when I was younger perhaps 10 maybe even 12 I was enamored with sword fighting and dragons and all sorts of magical and mythical things; however the adult in adult swim sorta throws me off considering that these CARTOONS are CARTOONS not actual shows. Now I'm not referring to Robot Chicken, or Family Guy, even Futurama has its place sometimes. I'm referring to the shows where all the main characters have the exact same voices played by Chinese and Japanese selected officials whom are forced into slavery to be the voices for these uber gay anime shows.
Strangely I caught myself watching these quasi Thundercat wannabees and these serial Transformer GI-Joe hack jobs and wondered no shit! this is why the world is so fucked up! When people view morally questionable and exceedingly stupid shows that only vaguely resemble the great cartoons of old, no wonder people are as they are. I mean I am not one to blame crime on cartoons, or drugs, or even dungeons and dragons! Blah! Fooey! People are inherently evil and inherently good, place a gun in one mans hand it shoots someone, place a loaf of bread in the other and people get fed, its not a cartoons fault, but stupidity can surely be linked to television, and questionable shows, sure the good guys are still fighting the bad guys in badly scripted sword and kung-fu battles, where new powers are discovered and young boys become of age, also all the 14year old girls in these shows are Lara Croft sized boobed and have lil submissive personalities, its borderline pedophile! but where is the freshness? Where is the new developments? Or is a don't fix what ain't broken mentality roll all through cartoon land?
Back to what this was truly about, the poor bastards who are locked up to voice this characters and strangely its all manga comic stories, which is loosely based on porn and the supernatural! So next time you are late night flippin and you see one of these shows on watch it for a few seconds....breath deeply...sigh....then laugh...because in all honesty a tv station that just showed old Thundercat, Transformer, Ninja Turtles, and Gi-Joe episodes would be a hell of a lot cooler. But then I guess we wouldn't be stimulating the economy full of Dragon Ball Z action figures and a vast array of shanty Pokemon movies. And we would no longer be supporting the slavery of these poor bastardized quasi celebrities whom are most likely locked in a sound studio cave somewhere.

Uncharted Waters

Uncharted love is somewhere I have never really been. Sure I have had my regular relationships, and my high school crushes. Strangely we confuse these things for love so often that boundaries somehow cross eachothers path. This makes me wander what is the uncharted part of love?
I see it as a place that we have neither been to before, nor are likely to go again, it is like a far away island only mentioned in a whisper from a tongue that surely cannot be trusted. This is where love must be truly found, on that island that may or may not exist, the only chance for it is to sail in the direction you feel it most likely to be, and to hope to God that it truly exists.
It must not be like a mountain, love cannot ever be conquered, it must be more like an exploration, one of encompassing danger, and daring risk, with a gentle side rolled into it, one of faith that your island does lie out in the uncharted waters of the world, and temperance so that you will not give up at the first sense of animosity. Virtue is a key component in love, that and morals, passion lies there as well, virtue is like your island, something you strive to find, morals are what bind you to your quest and to your island when you find it, and passion is what drives you to find what you are looking for.
The only real question is whether or not your island exists? The answer is never simple, it is hazy like the fog of the morning sea, and the dangers are they any less then death? Because what if there is no island for each of us to discover? This thought invades my mind everytime I start to engage in a conversation with the opposite sex, everytime I think of taking that first step into the boat of exploration of love, it scares me to death, yet is it not death to never take that chance? Is it not more alive to take the chance that your own island is out there then to never set foot off of the docks? Believe me it is, and when my turn to set sail is upon me I will not falter, I believe that each of us has an island to discover, one that was born/formed specifically for our individual self. So when your time comes set your course for those uncharted waters and discover what mysteries lie outside the depths of what you call security.

Help!

I write, I write! Ever faster, for moving upwards comes disaster.

Quickly now, they're is much to do, its moving faster its sad but true.

Hurry now, your mission is bare, my hands keep shaking, its to fast, not fare.

My god its so much faster then ever i thought, my mind cant focus I've lost the plot.

What was I writing where did my mind go, Christ nothing can stop this vast overflow.

Help me someone from the texts from my phone, I need a miracle now or at least a typing clone.

Its too late, much too late, I've now run out of time!

Repairs must now be made, although in time I am sure the problem will start to heal and fade.



*this is a dramatization of me taking a bath while having a text conversation and trying to finish a poem/story before my water overflows from my bath tub.

The Dreams of Eyes

Eyes are all around me waiting for me to fail.
Eyes continue watching to see me die or end up in jail.
Eyes are so distracting from the dreams I know I can reach.
Eyes continue blasting into my very soul they reach.
Eyes no where to escape them, they constantly are there.
Eyes reflecting abject hate and shallow I do care.
Eyes that show love sometimes they reflect an inner child.
Eyes that show a tint of green with blue floating in wild.
Eyes who love, and laugh, and cry, and eyes that burn with rage.
Eyes that have seen to much, who yearn to see outside their cage.
Eyes that shine with thoughts of what the future holds.
Eyes that pray that no time soon its lids will forever fold.
Eyes who want to meet its mate and then cannot look away.
Eyes who want to meet its mate eternally to stay.
Eyes that start to turn to dark, eyes that start to wither.
All this I see in my own eyes staring back at me from a mirror.

My Lady GunRunner

My lady GunRunner her spirit is unmatched, her thoughts are so mysterious, her moves unable to predict. So quietly she travels this world then loud impact she has, my lady GunRunner where will you show up next?

My lady GunRunner the one who knows me best, yet in and out of life she swurves no one can claim to know her best. I only claim to know her and to have shared a part of her life, my lady GunRunner who stops the hearts of men.

My lady GunRunner wherever will you go? Overseas adventures? Private funded wars for your own amusement? Or to do the job you do best? To me you fulfill the dreams I dream and will never experience myself. My lady GunRunner the one who lives the dream.

My lady GunRunner like a pirate you do seem, like a myth of a legend, of someone no one has ever seen. I can see you now in a torn and dirty dress, steering your wooden ship to an island in the East. An eyepatch you wear for decoration, for your vision is supreme, your men are completely loyal, they all know and respect your lead.
My lady GunRunner the myth I know is true.

My lady GunRunner a letter you sent to me, after all of this time you spent in other countries you never forgot of me. In it all I found was a worn eyepatch of black, it makes me blink and start to cry thinking of the adventures you must have had and I know you are on your last mission, the one you will never return from. How I wish I was there with you to face the end at your side. My lady GunRunner the one who made me cry.

My lady GunRunner your last chapter has been written. Even though your fate is sealed you continue on your mission. No storm will stop you, no enemy to great. Fear of an unfulfilled life means more to you then death, but for all that has been prophesized I cannot see you dead, my lady GunRunner death awaits for you.

My lady GunRunner a life lived mythically, I will never let the world forget any of your deeds, your missions accomplished your wars fought and won, your fortune was acquired you can sleep now restfully. My lady GunRunner the one who lived for me.

Life Is A Bell, Tied To A String

Life is a series of bells all tied to thick strings
When one is shaken and rattles the encompassing ones ring
Through small little circles this effect loudly goes
Like ripples in a pond from a splashing large stone
The larger the circle the more bells are heard
From one to another then affecting a third
This process continues exponetially around
Impacting so many from jingle to pound
On and on the bells ring until the world starts to shake
Bells ringing out louder then any earthquake
Life was begun with the ringing of two
It will continue to ring until all rings are through
Ropes seem to sever with age or with ware
With no reason at all or just lack of care
One rope one bell can change the whole tune
Some ropes that fall cause others to, too soon
The bells that fall ringing, crashing, quivering to the ground
Changing the melody and pitch of all the bells sound
Then other ropes come and replace fallen kin
Then those bells attached begin ringing again
This cycle continues and bells are still swaying
The bells never answer to what song is playing

What love truly is?

How long have I known you? It does'nt seem to matter.
An hour, a day, a month, a year? Have I ever really known you at all?
Yet somehow the thought that you might never be here again makes me feel so lost within so eternally unfulfilled. Is this what love is? To want for selfish reasonings? Do love and sacrifice go hand in hand I have always thought they would. Yet for all I try and all I meet no voice seems to ring true. Love seems something different something I might be incapable to do. Somehow to force it even if it does seem right, makes me feel malevolent, and makes me feel untrue. Love is not a tool, or even an emotion,it is something so much more yet I feel i will never know. Am I whining? Probably, although everyday I meet someone I feel could be the one. What bothers me so much is that compatibility seems so easy to one as broadly interested in life as myself. I am attracted to all ranges as long as they have a passion and go after it, this is the very thing i look for in a partner, that and laughter, someone that can remind me of that sweet hysteric laughter. How it haunts my very soul to think of never hearing it again.
Why just the other day i met someone that kindled interest almost immediately, but is it something to pursue? Is the entire process null? How often do we miss the ones that we should forever be with simply because of nerves? Or some other reason, is it not plausible that simply by showing up to early or to late, or simply not showing up at all could have such a resounding impact on our lives as to affect to the point of missed opportunity for love? Myself I simply think it is matter of opinion, easily i think i could be married within the year, happily most likely not, because who out there can readily understand the complexities that are me, then accept them for who and what they are and then love me for it. Is that even a possible scenario? Who is willing to love someone that has basically given up on monetary compensation for a greater goal in life, even if it is one of self-enlightenment and purpose. Yeah its not to difficult to take that person home for the night but to actually build something that is intimate, as well as something that will last throughout is that even possible? A friend once told me that this is not the time of marriage that it has become more of a joke then a idealistic reality of life, it is more of a burden from unplanned then unloved children who later turn into what they were spawned from. Yet is there perhaps hope for a hopeless romantic like myself? For all my cynicism I ideologically believe that love is possible that we can and will have an opportunity to meet the one we belong to, our ideal twin soul, but if we actually take the leap for that particular person when the opportunity comes is entirely up to us. How preacher-like I am, someone who barely if at all knows what love encompasses, yet for all my grandiose words and ideals, I will most likely be the one married to work, and entirely alone when my time comes to pass from this world, alone with the memories that ghost my mind and turn over and over wishing their was something more to go along with them, even though my life will be for the better of mankind, and especially animal kind/ this lifestyle is one I gladly and willingly choose, because humans are not the only ones that need champions and love comes in many different forms, love of morals, values, quality of life for our planet and its inhabitants is what I would rather love and champion.

Religion of Impact

Religion is an icon, or is it a key? Is it an answer or a mystery? Religion is an ideal, one that many people seem to find, something that inspires and supplements the mind. Its deeprooted in some of us, and found by others searching, it charts the entire globe from Taoism in Asia, to Islamic in Turkey. It causes vast wars and strife, and creates enemies where could be found friends, it tries to rationalize death and pain and hints at this worlds end. Yet from every corner of this world from cave men, Greek philosophers, Roman emperors, knight of old, and scimitar swinging bandits, there lies in us a feeling that something greater is at hand, something in our hearts and minds that differs us from billions of crystals of sand. I feel this sometimes late at night, the feeling that someone watches me from the dark corners of the night. My flesh seems to chill like I have been bodily caressed, and deep within a drop of my stomach and the ache within my breast. Could this be my judgement? Was I awoken just for this? Is it the trumpets sounding or is it deaths fatal kiss? Thoughts pervade my head, attacking all my senses, I try and focus in now but away drop all defenses. Panic over my life how tragic it all seems, all squandered opportunities ive forgotten all my dreams. Humbly I fall to my bare knees, the cold air and the ground force my prayers to come in chatters, I beg and plead for another chance to rekindle all my fires. Awaken from this trance i'm in having asked all for forgiveness, I set my sights on dreams ive had and changing things for the better. Religion is an ideal, its a reminder of life and limits, it lets all of us know that time is of the essence. Does it matter if its real or something made from mans mind? I think not because its affect has impacted lives like mine.

Finding Home

The word home has an amzing impact on people, it creates a euphoric sense of imagery and relase of endorphins that magically make things completely better. How many people would rather be sick somewhere other then their own bed.
I recently moved to a new place some 13 hours away from my hometown in Oklahoma, and the word home seems to have no real application anymore. Mind you that I am a so-called homebody and enjoy being at home when I read or write or do any of the many things I enjoy doing in my spare time. However is my home not in essence where I lay my head at night? Is it a place where I pay rent? Or is it where I spent the major proportion of my life? The confusing part is there are so many stipulations to a home, a roof, a bed, bills, where you eat, but is it not a major proclivity that you love where you are at the time, how many freshmen at college think of their stuffy dorm rooms as their homes? Although being of an age more appropriate to adulthood is it not time for me to make my own home? But does that mean paying rent?? Is it purely financial? The road is clear for me to achive my own home, but where I live now is not a home, it seems more a roadside gas station to a larger trip in the creation of my home. What is a 2 year stop anyways, in this time with internships and the chance of relationships is it not likely that my physical address will in fact change?
Then their is the old "Home is where the heart is" thing, but is it truly? My heart is with me now and I feel no more at home in this 2 bedroom apartment then anywhere I have ever been. I feel a prisoner of my own doing, yet all the amenities are here, tv, laptop, dvd player, shower, air conditioning, bed, kitchen, fridge, yet for all its intentions it feels no more then a motel.
Another aspect to analyze is whether or not my parents home is my home? I dont pay bills there, I dont own it, I was more a long term guest then anything else. So in fact I feel as if I am homeless, but inside me is a world, one created with many different relationships, and interactions, one that has had resounding impact on other people, and hopefully a postive one on the world as a whole. I feel as if a homeless person may very well know more about being at home then anyone in the world, they are not affronted by things, and clothes, and fancy food, they only wish to survive and in this may be more at home with themselves then anyone on the face of the planet. This leads me to believe that upon achieving my dreams, and becoming who and what I want to be, I may be more at home in the Amazon taking pictures of Jaguars and others species of animals, sleeping in a tent and recording data then any other time in my life.
Home is not a place, its more of an ideal, and it is carried with you through the relationships you have built and the impact of those relationships with other people. Home is in essence where the heart is and where you finally feel that release of life that lets you know im free, im here at last, and im where I belong.