Mundane

*story was never finished and I can't remember what it was leading into but the ending seems quite amusing as it is.


It was just about the turn of autumn when I lost my job and was forced to sit at home dissatisfied about the way my life was turning out. I had lived out for the past twenty seven years, a life of uncanny mundanity. Which pushed me to give unsatisfactory results at work, which in the end, had me terminated from my position. It wasn't a great position to begin with but something. Better than nothing I suppose. I was a store manager at a local furniture store, which wasn't terrible pay, but the benefits weren't really up to par. It mostly consisted of wicker furniture that didn't really match any of my other furniture in my apartment.

So here I sit, in front of my television. One hand on the remote and the other hand free to roam about.

DAY 1_ (49 days until I find a new job)

I've saved up some money here and there and was sure I could make a couple of months before I really needed to start looking for a job, so I considered this an unpaid vacation. I made a list the first day, of all the things that I wanted to accomplish that I wasn't able to do for the past twenty seven years. Okay, so:

1. Go Hiking
2. Read a book
3. Learn an instrument
4. Write a song
5. Make a library card
6. Spend a week with my parents
7. study communism
8. write a new list in one month

Then I bought some weed and smoked the rest of the day. Things became clearer this way.

"One"

*was a huge fan of hip hop and still am but when I was a teen and through-out college, man, all I ever did was write rap lyrics.



celebrate the fact
gives me time to react,
mesmerize my pact,
repeat the track....

all in all, I've become a soldier
god given talents, no time to bother,
with pain and it just hurts
blood squirts, i flirt with disaster.

when can I just, justify my reactions,
actions lead to consequences, that lead to reparations,
perspiration for the unity of one nation,
marching to the front line, demanding unification.

line after line, hit after hit,
bodies fall to the floor, it hit but we missed.
mothers cry for death, but we keep spending our bullets,
feels good, but then we start to panic.

Manic depressant and hard core drug addict,
feels safe then but now a psychotic,
drank to much hypnotic, blood pours out her amniotic.
guard our lives because somehow we're all in it.

Can't leave now, the story's just begun
our lives full of hope with songs to be sung,
swing low but our dreams gone,
our favorite father, they tortured and hung.

it all makes sense, to burn our trust
for the lust to gain, but she gives him her thrust.
up and up till he can't take and busts
what has she done, to defend it we must.

go after the heart of all alters.
fortify our men become the rock of Gibraltar
walk on water and take man's torture,
gravitate towards the heavens to awaken our fathers.

painstaking wraths of gods, call us martyr
lose our faith but gain it back in one quarter,
don't cry because we can't all be starters,
but soon we will all be part of.........................


ONE, it don't matter because we're ONE

gibberish

*Note* Not sure why I ended up calling this gibberish, now that I read it for the first time since writing it, it feels like the most sensible thing I have written.



we only dream so seldom. we realize it was all a joke and stop thinking about the impossibilities. The joke goes something like this


_ a man stamps his thumb into the dirt and creates little live creatures. The creatures are thankful of this tremendous gift and begins to pay respect to the man, they work hard and try to find meaning as to why this man has given them life. They all eventually die like the little creatures they are. Now they thought after they die, they would have the opportunity to meet their maker and reap the benefits of working so hard but little do they know, the man is only a man and has died himself wanting to meet his maker and so on and so forth._


The possibilities are endless yet we see the end already. So near sighted we are that we figure that nothing is able. We are a group of enablers. If the meaning of all this was given to us, in simple man's language, we still would look at that person in the eye and ask him to explain. He would say, "I've just explained it all to you, what's so hard to understand? and we would reply, huh?" because that's just what we are.


I lie away, dreaming of another day. But that day will never come. Its a mystery as to how we got this far. Its all an obstacle and the purpose doesn't come until the end like a good movie but will it be the hollywood ending or the ending in some films where its left open ended? You begin to think of ways to spice up the journey and the mysticism of it all. We look upon other people because we can't see it in ourselves. The stars and celebrity that we've created to literally "CELEBRATE" these characters in life that we have no relation with. But we look to them for comfort, the comfort of having a life that we seem to be unable to achieve. And many times, we feel as though we're glad. First we're hopeful but later we're regretful.

Time is one of these mystic reminders that we're only here temporarily. The temporary and not forever. Will you love me forever she asks and he responds oh yes, forever and eternity. But that's all a lie, we know it. Its sad to remind ourselves that after we leave this life, nothing is certain. All that we know can disappear or maybe the life that we lived will stay intact and we will see ourselves from afar or maybe we will be reincarnated in another life or maybe just nothingness. The emptiness of being nothing. Maybe there is a heaven and a hell but for some reason or another, I tend not to think that way... For all we know, our lives could be heaven, or are we in hell?

Connie and Johnny

This story was never finished. I believe I wrote it as a backstory for a script idea I had in mind. Maybe someone who reads this can finish it and do something with it. It seems like an excellent start.


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Introduction:

One in every 200,000 births occurs like this. So horrible the birth that many times, the parents would dispose of their own children to escape the humiliation or the burden of having these children around. This mother in this particular case died while giving birth to Connie and Johnny, the Siamese twins from Kentucky. The mother was in labor for thirty-two painful hours, the screams could have possibly made Johnny partially deaf. But partially deaf he wasn't. He rather wanted to born completely stupid and so his wish was granted.

Johnny: He is the half of the Siamese twins that gave his part of the brain to his brighter, much more intelligent sister. Johnny had a rough childhood to say the least. He was always a quiet child, never went over someone's house to play board games nor did he have any friends to spend after school time with. He was in a special class but before long, had to be home schooled for the lack of any kind of sense. Soon his father gave up on him and just asked him to feed the chickens whenever he remembered how. So all Johnny ever did was go out to the chickens and throw them pellets of food and go into the barn to exercise. Now what people say about jocks and how dumb they are probably goes in reverse as well. Johnny was one stupid fellow, but he was stronger than anyone in his town and the state for that matter. He went into the barn and lifted weights until his father called him in for dinner. And still he continued to lift weights partially because he was too stupid to realize that his father was calling him. The lack of any kind of intelligence gave him brute strength that was unimaginable in those days. He was a beast, with a beast like temper to match. Anything that would upset him, he would release his frustration with his mighty fist, that must have weighed fifty pounds alone. He once even flattened his father to the kitchen door, just picked him up and threw him, not thinking twice about any consequences for no one was able to discipline him. No one but his sister.

Connie: She is the intelligent half of the Siamese twins. She is half the size of Johnny but has taken most of his brains and quiet smart, even for her own age group. You see, the twins are still attached, and with Johnny lifting weights all the time and not being able to go to school and learn, Connie was forced to dangle from Johnny's head and teach herself all the essentials of life. Connie was a well-spoken lady, being able to annunciate all the proper syllables and knew all the synonyms to the words Johnny can only hope to learn in his lifetime. Connie was a small girl, not much physical mass to her at all but then again, she had Johnny for that.

Part 1: On the farm

"I want to be separated" exclaimed Connie. Connie was in one of her foul morning moods and the thought of being stuck head to head with Johnny for the rest of her life wanted to make her kill herself. She threatened Johnny that he’d just have a dead corpse hanging from his head by the day’s end. Her father tried to calm her and held her hands to his heart. “You hear this pulse, that’s my life. I will gladly give it to the either of you if you asked.” Connie being the devilish one, asked for it and when she realized it was all a metaphor, she wanted the separation again and threatened to kill herself. There were many attempts at this separation but was foiled by their father. Connie would deceive Johnny into using his massive strength to try and detach her head from his. Nothing worked, and fortunately for them because any physical removal of either person from the other, would cause immediate nerve damage to the brain killing them both instantaneously. It was difficult for the father and Johnny to deal with Connie’s tantrums sometimes, but for the most, the two men took it well.
Johnny adored Connie for she was his better half. Johnny admired the fact that she was able to read and that she was able to analyze things and comprehend meanings. Johnny knew that as long as he had Connie attached to his head, he wouldn’t have to feel handicapped in terms of information. Connie was bitter towards the fact she lacked any physical strength and blamed Johnny for that but she knew it was a fair trade off and soon realized that Johnny was more than just a brother to her. He was her. The father loved both of his kids, even if they were part of the same and treated them both as complete separate individuals. Two birthday presents, two Christmas presents.
So they all lived peacefully on their farm, a bitter but sweet Connie, a stubborn but child-like Johnny and a headstrong family head in the form of their father.

Part 2: Life experiences

The family never ventured past their property lines, most of their daily needs were self produced and completely self dependent, but on occasion the father would travel out to indulge just a little, getting some chocolate for his two children and a copy of the next alphabet in the encyclopedia, the local shop carried. Right now, they are on the letter “L.”
The reason that they never traveled outside much was the fact that there were terrible stories about the twins going on. They weren’t accepted at school so they were home schooled. The kids can be so cruel and they would come to the farm to throw rocks and sticks and anything else they can find in the near vicinity. That was the reason the father put up a high fence, closing them off from the rest of the world. The parents were just as cruel and gave the father a dirty stare whenever he came into town as if he was the owner of a two headed monster. Soon, even the friends he had before stopped visiting, probably from the pressure of the town’s people.
This never bothered the father. Yes his wife was taken away from the birth of his twins and yes, he has secluded himself from any form of a social life because of his twins but he loved them so. He became a father, a dream he had for many years and something that he thought he was never able to attain. His wife was a beautiful much younger bride who he met at a local town meeting. She had just moved into the neighborhood and with the blessing of their parents, married underneath the twinkling skies at the local recreational center. She vowed to give him many children in exchange for comfort and stability but was a vow she could not keep. They had tried for twenty years until she nearly reached the age of forty and still was unable to bear children. The father had become the brunt of all jokes in town and was ridiculed by even the closest of friends. They’d given up any hope of having children but to much surprise, the twins were born. The process was all too traumatic for his wife and soon she passed but not before leaving a pair of children attached at the head, who would become a social outcast and an oddity tailor made for the freak show or the traveling circus. All this the father took in as a gift from God and thanked the Lord for providing him with children despite many of the unfortunate events.
The father was raised up with protestant values and possessed strong family morals. He was an only child who never had many friends so the longing of a large family was there from the start so there was no possible way he could go on and despise his children for they are the product of his prayers for so many years.

My Whole Life in a couple of Pages

Its been a long time coming since the early days. but those days are all i've got left. I've never claimed to be the hardest working man in life but there are days that i've pulled in my share of overtime. Now, I just stare out the window and want to sleep.

I was the oldest in my family who immigrated over to the states. Any son from an immigration family would tell you that they have their share of the burden. The language but also the capacity of the responsibilities given to you by your parents who will speak little to no english, even after the twenty years they've spent here in the States. I had two younger brothers and a sister under my care. Whether they got to school on time and came safely back home was all on my narrow shoulders. Whether they had a decent meal for lunch and whether they did their homework for the next day. Not to mention my own belly and my own homework that I had to tend to. When we had trouble paying the rent on time, it was me who had to go speak to our landlord to give us an extension and not call the police.
I had my first job at thirteen, running strange errands for a local barber shop to help and pitch in towards the household. See, my dad was half retarded and my mother didn't graduate high school so their income was relative to their abilities.
Okay, so my dad wasn't half retarded, but he was very much mentally challenged which practically is the same thing. Half his brain went numb from a burst of a vein in his brain and at an early age in his life as well. The combination of all those facts led me to the decision I made after High School and that was to leave my hometown for a college far far away. I didn't know what I was going to study in school and I wasn't sure how I was going to pay for school, but I knew I needed to get out. My parents struggled with the notion of me leaving home to go to school but reluctantly gave in. They always had seen me going to college close to home and that way I would still have the burden of the family on my shoulders. Was it their greed or was I obligated? The obligation in my belief held no bearing. Why was I to spend all my years being the man of a family I was born into? Family's are made, am I not right? That's why we marry and have kids of our own. But all that comes together when we are physically and mentally ready. All this was thrown at me and now my shoulders were about to give in if I hadn't been able to leave this town.
My mother of course, being the sentimental and emotional type, grabbed on to my button down shirt and cried for a good hour or so. I changed my shirt and grabbed my bag and jumped on the next train heading west. I didn't have too many options on which school I could attend. Helping my siblings everyday took away from my own studies and I was left with a less then decent grade point average by the school's end. I was bound for community college when I found a small school in San Francisco that would take me in as one of their students.
The four years in college wasn't any easier than the life I'd live back at home, but I felt rewarded that I was able to live on my own. During the days I would go to school and at night I would work in the kitchen of a small restaurant to pay for tuition and boarding. A couple of creative writing classes got me interested in becoming a writer. Any spare moment I had, I would take out my notebook and do some writing and by the time graduation rolled along, I had enough writing material to use as a portfolio to land a steady stream of freelance writing jobs which helped pay for rent and food but still, I was in the kitchen of the small restaurant making sure the food was hot enough to serve.
I had gotten my first short story published at twenty seven and by thirty, I had met a nice young lady to accompany me in my life journey. By then, I was an editor of a local newspaper, wasn't anything big and fancy but it helped pay for the bills and luckily, got me away from the kitchen of the small restaurant. I soon had kids of my own and found myself changing diapers and helping with my children's homework, something my parents weren't able to do for me. I had gotten a call from my sister one day in the summer telling me of my father's death and a year later I had gotten a call from my one brother telling me of my mother's death. They wrote me sometimes, my siblings, letting me know how their life turned out. My sister is now married and became a house wife. My first brother served in the army and it's been 2 years since anyone has heard from him. My other brother is happily married and running his own convenient store. I live here in San Francisco and have seen my family a total of ten times my whole life while I was out here.
I think about the decision I made to leave home quite often. How would my life had turned out? Now I'm pushing eighty and all I want to do is sleep all day. Like I said, I don't claim to have lived the hardest life, but I've had my share of overtime. And now, all I want to do is look out the window and dose off.
It's funny that even though I left home to pursue a brighter future for myself, my life still fits into a couple of pages...

Freedom Revised

She turns to me and complains of her sickness. Her body aches and now asks me to get her some water. I comply like I only know how and pour her a glass of water from the kitchen. Something grows within her and gives her the custody over who I am. I am at her mercy. She holds me by the leash and I'm cuffed with the collar at the end of that leash. She tugs a little harder and I snap back only to be hit with a rolled up newspaper. She looks at me and then falls asleep.
I fall asleep next to her but having been deprived of all blanket coverage, I hug myself and turn into a fetus. I roll up and think warm thoughts.
At night I might hit her by accident but tonight was not one of those nights. She wakes up in the morning and complains of her sickness. This sickness has not gone away and its at its third week. They say up until week twelve it becomes very unpredictable. Gone are the carefree days of wandering through the city without a reason to go home. We stroll in our modest spending spree of drinks and dance and think of ways to save up for our future. The future is now and so it becomes the present. We go through miles upon books to realize what we've been looking for no longer exist. I choose to purchase something else and remember that I'm suppose to be home. I'm a prisoner in my own home and the dreams of active freeway driving has become extinct. Here are the days of not being so wild.