Archive for February, 2009

Short Story – Part 2

{ February 17, 2009 @ 9:51 pm } · { Short Stories }
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The man walked quietly down the street with hands in pockets, breath a fog before him. To the outside observer, he was the definition of calm. Inside though, he was a raging storm of anger, helplessness and frustration. Why did things always have to be so difficult? What was it about him that always seemed to bring out the worst in people? Is this my fate, he pondered idly.

The fight had started like they always did nowadays; about cigarettes. There was just something about the things that drove her crazy. Anytime she caught him it was the equivalent of a world war. The man didn’t understand why they set her off so bad, but it always irritated him she wanted him to quit. She had done nothing he’d asked. Not one thing. So why should he have to give up something for her? Why was there always an ultimatum? It just didn’t make sense to him. But he rarely understood her.

The man reached the street corner and stopped, watching the world go by around him. People on their way to here or there, bustling about much like sheep. Did no one stop to think for themselves anymore? Why was everyone so content to do what they were told? The man would never understand, not having seen what he’d seen, and done what he’d done.

I honestly thought the world would be different, he thought. I’ve been gone for a year, away to places that people only dream about in their most private moments. What was it that made people so scared to break out of the mould? He would never understand.

Sighing, he continued on his way. As he walked on, he thought of her face. The way her features had contorted in disgust the first time she’d seen him after he came back. Were the scars really that bad? He resisted the urge to touch them. Idiot, he thought. You wouldn’t feel anything with the left hand anyway. Thinking of the left brought on a torrent of new memories. The day she’d found out that what was under the glove wasn’t what he’d told her. There were no burn scars, no disfiguration. No, what was under the glove was…a tool. She’d come to accept it though. Under the surface he was still the same. It was only the vessel that had changed.

Interlude

{ February 9, 2009 @ 1:30 am } · { Short Stories }
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2 months later.

The man kneeled. All around him were the sounds of a world ending. He thought what he often did. What does it take to break a man? How far does someone have to go before they’ve had enough? How do you learn your limits? After everything, the man still didn’t know. Could it be that one day he would collapse? He hoped not because there was much to be done.

He looked at the woman he was kneeling beside. She was all but gone. There was nothing to do but offer comfort. He stroked her head and whispered to her. It didn’t matter if she heard or not. This was his therapy, his way to wash away a sliver of his guilt. The world had gone to hell. And to think it had only been 2 months since he’d stepped off that bus. It seemed so far away.

The woman breathed her last breath and slipped into the void. Sighing, the man stood up and continued on. As he walked a breeze began. I’ll find you, he said. I’m coming. You’re not alone.

But no one heard. The wind stole his words and carried them away, possibly to the same emptiness the woman had fled to. It would be so easy to give up, to lose sight, to lose faith. But the man soldiered on. Surely hope was alive somewhere.

Pity party?

{ February 2, 2009 @ 9:20 pm } · { Just Junk, Personals }
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Ugh, it’s going to be one of those months. I can already tell, just from how today went. February first and the whole month is already down the shitter. It doesn’t help that I hate February with a fiery passion, and all this bullcrap about Valentines Day isn’t helping. I’m not going to say anything on the subject because it’s been talked to death.

So my dad has been out’ve town lately. I haven’t seen him in about a week and a half. I knew he was home today so I was kind of jazzed because I’d heard that he’d won his golf tournament that he was off at. So I’m all excited to see him and talk to him about his big win. I get home and start watching Lost and he comes downstairs. Now, instead of saying hello, how was your week, blah blah blah he comes down and gives me a big fucking lecture about how I don’t pull my weight around the house. He says I don’t do any chores, I can’t keep my room clean, and basically called a disgusting fucking slob. So then he starts listing off all the shit that he’s having a problem with.

No one emptying and filling the dishwasher. Now this one I can definitely do something about, although I’d say I’m at home for about 10 hours a day, and 5-8 of them are spent sleeping and the rest is spent trying not to go on a killing spree because of my job. So I’m never home to empty the dishwasher. I’ll try harder Dad, I promise.

The hot tub getting too dirty. Well, first of all: fuck off. I went in the hot tub for the first time since July last week. I’d say I go in the hot tub about 5 times a YEAR. It’s just not my thing. It’s all wet, you can’t read, you can’t play video games. I’m not down. And he’s telling me I need to help out with cleaning the hot tub. Good fucking luck.

And his other big winner was that I don’t clean my room. Well guess what Dad? I pay rent. Which means I rent this space which means I can do whatever the fuck I want in here. And if I want it to be messy then it’s going to be messy. I’m a slob, I’ll be the first to admit. But don’t come and tell me how to live. Piss off. I don’t tell you how to take care of your room, and I don’t tell your bitch cunt fucking hobag of a wife when to go fuck herself when she tells me to do things. I’d say that’s a fair trade off. Inadvertently, I had ended up cleaning up my room on Friday since I bought a new TV and it had no home. So I made one for it.

So. To top of an amazingly shitty day, I get to come home and have my dad take a dump all over me. Wasn’t that nice of him? I’m just so frustrated with my life right now. I feel like I’m in a rut, and something needs to change because I’m starting to get bored with life and bad shit happens when I get bored with my life. I start making purchases, and smoking certain herbs. The wheels just basically come off.

That’s all I’ve got. I’d love to go on a tangent about how fucking stupid the Geek Squad is, but it’s not worth my time. Safe to say, people! Pay attention to the following sentences! If you are computer retarded and your shit breaks, please, for the love of god, don’t take it to Geek Squad or the Futureshop equivalent. Find a friend, or someone with an A+ degree and get them to fix it. But make sure you ask them nicely, because I’ve been doing a lot of tech support for my friends lately and I’m about ready to eat a glock sandwich.

Brody.

Also, I discovered the greatest mascot in the world today. His name is Balzac Billy and he is a giant fucking groundhog. Google that shit.