Living, Loving; Remembering, Forgetting.

Life is pretty beautiful and awesome. It is all okay. It wouldn't even be that bad if we all died. Maybe I will get hit by a car. Maybe you will get shot. Maybe we will meet and fall in love. Maybe then we will live happily...for a few days...and slowly it will fade away...we will start arguing more, we'll get ugly, we won't talk as much, spend more time apart, drifting. We will split up.
We will meet other people. It won't be the same. Sure its nice. Everything is awesome and beautiful, just like life. But still. It is just not the same. We won't even think about each other, but subconsciously we wonder. Then one of us will die. It will be in the news or something. How you snapped. You were too lonely. You started hugging strangers. You hugged the cashier. The waitress. The taxi driver. The firefighter. The cop. The gangster. You got hugged, slapped, punched, beaten, and shot. I will read it. And I will remember. And I will think::Shit, life is beautiful and awesome...


I remember the house those kids used to live in. They weren't really friends. We hardly saw them, but we knew they lived there. I don't know why it matters. I guess I'm just remembering these irrelevant things to remind myself I didn't forget. I sometimes wonder what I've already forgotten and will never remember. I guess its better to remember things that don't matter than to never remember anything...

One Has to Wonder...

What makes you think I would care.

When you know I'm being irrational.

And Its So Awesome.

This can't even be legal.

Is What Worth It?

In the aftermath I wonder.
Was it even worth it?


Probably not.

Fight Club.

I was out sitting on the porch this morning.
I got so mad.
so mad.

I punched the wall next to me.

it's really rough concrete.
it left red marks on my knuckles.
but I did it again harder.
I punched the wall over and over until my fist was torn and bleeding.

because I couldn't stop.

later I went for a walk.

my fists were clenched the whole time.

whenever I saw a person coming my way I would feel my body tense up.
I wanted to jump them.
I wanted to through them down and beat their beautiful face in.
Destroy them.

I resisted every time.
just barely held back.

I was just waiting for someone to bump into me.
some reason to throw down.

I just wanted to talk to someone.

every time someone passed and I didn't have the nerve to say a word I felt torn up inside.

so mad.

I'm so lonely.
and there's people everywhere.
but how can you meet people when you automatically have a plan to kill everyone you see?

Just in case.

Who's Laughing Now?

Times are hard. The circus isn’t what it used to be. It started when the top clown, Opus Magikus lost his nerve; he just froze up during a performance. Stage fright is not tolerated. Albert Rigapoli knew what had to be done. Opus was dealt with…fatally. It was too late for the circus though. People just weren’t interested anymore. The new top clown, Freddie the Pie, had to find the clowns a new line of work. And so the Criminal Circus was born. Everyone is afraid of clowns. Sadistic, Psychopathic clowns there fore, make the best criminals. Anyone who crossed the circus was removed; Albert was a brutally efficient hatchet man. As the most powerful clowns, the tension between Albert and Freddie was palpable. There was not room for the two of them under the big top.

The stage was set for a betrayal. The Circus booked a flight to Europe; the target, a Swiss Bank, aka, an impenetrable fortress guarded by a veritable army. Never favoring subtlety, the clowns blew the entire face of the building off. Clowns swarmed onto every floor, cackling madly, engaging the security and soldiers up close and personal. It was a mess of flaming pies, exploding juggling pins, knives, and gun fire. The clowns clearly had terror on their side.

Albert had planned for this moment; he would kill Freddie the Pie himself during the heist. He had confided in several of his fellow clowns. He had trustworthy allies.

He thought.

The plan was, once the security was dealt with and the vault opened, Albert’s fellow conspirators would turn on Freddie and hold him in the vault until Albert arrived to perform the execution.

Albert approached the main vault, a bloody knife in one hand, a meat hook in the other. There were no clowns in sight.

Albert stepped into the vault and immediately spun around to see Freddie coming towards him wielding a revolver and laughing. The meat hook swung in an arc, caught the revolver and flipped it into Albert’s open hand.

“Who’s Laughing Now?!” Cackled Albert, pulling the trigger.

BANG!

A little red flag popped out of the revolver barrel, a circus prop gun. The gun man had just been a random clown in Freddie’s makeup.

Albert felt a shotgun barrel pressed against his cheek.

“Who indeed.” Replied Freddie, as he pulled the trigger.

Albert’s lower jaw was splattered against the vault walls, as he fell and the room went black…