One

The following is now truly the beginning (starting with the first step, zero), as to what I am intending to leave behind. My goal is to have the truth be in question and traces of fiction be perceived as real. Please join me as I begin my journey across the different shades. This is a Dark Portrait of Life Painted in Color:

dark

I sleep with my mattress on the floor so I guess under my bed isn’t where I ought’ to look for the monsters that were promised to keep me awake at night so back under the covers I go just in case I come face to face with my greatest nightmare but what if because of no bed means they could be anywhere how will I know where to find one what if they’re just like us they could look like anyone I’m getting nervous at the fact that in my dreams I may have shared the one that I fear most has no place to hide when they themselves have taken over a host but with my lighter not even a spark I thought it was only me in this room but I know I’m not alone here in the dark

portrait

taking a picture won’t make it last any longer and just like the perfect song for her it won’t make any bit of difference if there is no beauty found in the eye of the beholder so do your best to store it to memory cuz’ right now that’s the best you’re going to get from me with a face that’s standing still background in motion I’ll drown in an empty field and fall to dehydration in the middle of the ocean frozen in place painted in life’s darkest colors your body heat is what you’ll use to uncover it is it just as you remembered my dark life’s portrait

life

if I’ve made it this long I figure I finally found where it is that I belong amazing how far you can go once you’ve given up trying your best for someone else doing all you can just to impress all the rest what do you have to lose if the only choices you have to choose is to what direction you’ll go today trying not to confuse theirs for yours a hall of windows when you needed doors you can have your cake and eat it too here’s the knife make the fucking most of it make it your life

I. The Duel Lives (DPD/MEN)
II. The Core’s Moon (SCI/MAT)
III. The Journey Men (PHI/PSY)
IV. The Lost Founders (REL/SPI)
V. The Police Escort (POL/BUS)
VI. The Future Past (HIS/FUT)
VII. The Quiet Drafter (MUS/ART)
VIII. The Lucid Dreamer (WRI/CRE)

This Post is Inspired By:
The Minimalists
Colin Wright
Seth Godin
Eric Kim
Steve Z
Billy Talent
Clutch
Highly Suspect

This Post is Dedicated To:
Friends & Family

 

I. Its 1:13 a.m., last call has just been made. I’m scanning the scene to see if there is any unmarked territory along the bar. No. Shit, I must’ve been too late again. Such a reoccurring theme in my life – funny how these bad habits of things don’t want to live and let die. As I’m reaching for my card out of my front pocket (I don’t trust leaving it in the back, can’t trust anyone these days), I see a girl about ready to come into “The Library”, til’ she glances over at me; turning her beautiful dark complexion white as a ghost. I can’t place her, but I remember that face. The bar keep asks to see I.D., just as I give instruction on the back of the card. Sir, your I.D. doesn’t appear to match the cardholder”. I was just in here last night, like any other night. As quickly as the stunning brunette turned white as a ghost, I sober right on up and realize that neither she nor I recognized the name with the face looking identical to mine. How long was I here? What did I have to drink? Who was that girl at the door? Whose I.D. do I have? If not him, who am I? And if not I, than where does that leave me? Where does that leave the man whose card I’m now holding?

II. They don’t have a name, they don’t have a heart, and they don’t have any fucking idea what it is that they’re living for. They take everything that they want for granted and piss all over the things that that they need. It is with this great irony that separates us from them. There was a point where we once respected each other however; living as one on the same planet they call Earth. We went into hiding a few centuries ago however, once we saw the destruction they were causing to our shared planet. How can one species cause so much bloodshed to one another? If they didn’t go around mindlessly fucking each other, they surely would have become extinct by their own will upon the coming of the last century. Where lies the oceans, they see a convenient location to empty their trash and sewage, where lies the barren desert landscapes which could be used for free energy, they see an opportunity to test their newly developed weapons, expending enormous amounts of radiation. We tried our best to wake them before it is too late, but they continue to hit the snooze button, thinking they have more time. There are no more alarms. It’s time to wake the fuck up.

III. Loading up a ship in the dead of winter can be a cruel task. But there is none as cruel as the tasks our king has bestowed upon us prior to our intention on leaving. We were asked to take a door-to-door census on his people’s religious beliefs. If they didn’t align with the king, we were asked to place a red X on the door after seeing our way out. With us dressed in black, the white taking over their faces as they saw us coming down the street, and the red X’s lining the street, this was quite a contrasting scene to be had. Who wants to let three strange men into their home, when you know damn well good intention is not what we’re selling from the pockets of their trench coats. The three wise men bearing gifts, we are not. Religious symbols adorned the villager’s kitchens, dining rooms, and bedrooms that a few of us were able to view while several husbands were out. There is so much at stake for those who have placed none of their own. Walls have a funny way of creating a false sense of security. It may only take one stone to finish one, but it only takes a few men to bring it all down as well. This is where we come in. They call us The Journey Men.

IIII. Son, I have a story for you. A farmer has an ox. The farmer’s ox is what allows him to provide for his family. The ox has proven to be the most valuable asset that this farming family owns. However, none of the other villagers own an ox. The ox that they shared recently died, doing what he loved; while working hard in the fields. The farmer did not want to share him, because he believed that is what killed the ox which the other villagers collectively owned.  The farmer spent all of his spare time building a fence around his fields; for fear that the villagers would devise a plan to steal his ox. Over the course of the next year, the farmer fortified his barn and built the fence that would separate him from his neighbors. So son, I ask why this farmer would share his ox if he knew it would be killed due to being overworked at the other villager’s farms, leaving the whole town without an ox? Well dad, perhaps you’re right. But during this time, while the farmer worked alone, the rest of the town worked together engineering and building  what would soon replace the ox; the steam engine. Now dad, I ask what the farmer will do since he pissed in the bed he lays?

V. Last call was nearly an hour ago. I was told I didn’t have to go home, but I couldn’t stay here. This leads me to my current position, across the street, “The Garage”. I’d ask if I was hit by a car on the walk over, believing I had landed in heaven, but there ain’t any angels that look this good. She’s on her game tonight, and she knows it. By my count of good deeds left undone, there ain’t no way I’d have ended up in heaven anyhow. I’m not a very good man; I cheat, steal, lie, and I’ll make a deal with the devil while forging your signature to get what I want. But people around here respect my honesty in the things that I do. If you come to me with something, you’ll know what you’re getting yourself into; same as the rest of the gang in this place. The bartender / drug dealer behind the loaded bar – there may not be any top shelf liquor available, but the party favors in their place will do just fine for the price. The stripper / prostitute taking her regulars in the back for a lap dance, then behind the dumpster to finish them off. And the rest of us, working class; we finish our night here before doing it all again the next day. Keep the tip.

VI. This town is about as used up as the former child stars who paint the town in the same colors as their portraits every night. The darkest shades of black would shine bright as a diamond on the backstreets here. This wasn’t always the case, at least what I’ve been told. Industry used to thrive here, allowing for lavish and exotic parties on the weekends after a hard weeks work. Now the only thing to do is the same thing we do every day; absolutely fucking nothing. It’s really at no fault of the town however. The mayor is a fine fellow; he just lost his grip on the people once the government stepped in to take it over.  You see, there was a fire which began during a Fourth of July celebration. It went unnoticed until it started to find its way into the coal shafts below, and then steam began emitting from the streets. It was as if the devil himself was preparing to join in on the celebration. The town was just beginning to find its place on the map, when it all came crashing down – quite literally, as the earth began caving in, pulling the infrastructure back down with it. It seems the devil was here after all, only wearing his top-hat in place of horns.

VII. I could see at least eight men, all dressed in black, loading up crates in the back of a semi. They were talking to one another in German; a highly organized group, with it being difficult to identify any levels of hierarchy. The trailer was filling up quick, and if I was going to get out of there without being loaded into the truck as well, I had to get outta’ there. The crates all appeared to be the same size and weight, as it was passed along without any hesitation. I was simply on my midnight drive, on the same loop as always, when I noticed them. I have trouble sleeping these days with everything going on in my head. I was given some pills, but they weren’t working, so I traded them in. I have an addictive personality, so I was worried I’d become too reliant on the first set of pills, which were supposed to help me sleep. But I wasn’t sleeping anyway, so I appreciate the added levels of productivity. I’m rambling again; I do that when I’m under their influence. Anyway, shit – I lost sight of them, they’re gone. What the fuck is going on here? I hope they didn’t see me. Nothing exciting happens here. I work here. What were they doing at a consultancy firm?

VIII. Its 1:13 a.m., and I get the suspicious feeling like I’ve been here before. That’s because I have; hundreds of times before this night.  I’m preparing for another sleepless night underway, followed by another day fighting not to, come morning. I’m starting to lose track as to what day of the week it is anymore. I find myself preparing for work on days off, and thinking I have off even when its two days short to Friday. To put it bluntly, my life’s a mess, but nobody seems to even notice. I guess that’s because I’ve gotten so good at putting on this smiling face to match my happy-go-lucky vibe. Truth is though, I haven’t laughed on the inside for over a year now. I’ve never been one to promote my problems or issues, because I figure most wouldn’t give a shit regardless anyway. Why should they? I work your typical 9-5, 5-days a week, for 240 +/- days of the year.  I do the typical things a guy my age should do. I own the typical the typical things a guy my age should own. I have the life a guy my age should live. I’m in a typical rock band and we play your typical rock songs. The only thing in my life that isn’t typical however, is my dreams.