It's a fine line (so they say) between death and destruction. A minor nudge in either direction enough to derail another in a not entirely undermining way. But of course if you'd asked me why I pushed it towards the latter I'd have told you that the instinct should actually have manifested itself years ago. And thats no way to begin at loss, for my fortune wouldn't have had it not had it been for that not so fateful day...
"Bingpot!" the shout rang out against a dead silence amidst the middle of a settled library-turned-auditorium room. A felt urgency muttered in the response from the crowd continued to befall confusion til a woman jumped out from behind a centered oak desk with a nondescript book held high. "You ALL doubted my intent to fix this monstrosity, and here I have--" the blast overtook the windows, wood, metal and books of the outer exposed wall, sending firey debris into the chaosed crowd. Shellshock silence befell the deafening boom.
Brought back however, it was lent to me to believe that these living beings which I'd been entrusted with could very well have taken care of themselves. But (as you might have known) a truly selfish being of unsound mind such as myself had other fruitful plans of taking them under a certain style of wing and bringing about a betterment on behalf of generous dealings.
Not until years later did they manifest towards an evil inclination. And by that point (you guessed it) I was dead.
Backing way back up here though, let's put a perspective in place that A) yes drugs and B) younger, dumber. We all drag out these laments of a youth passed by of course but in a particular kind of origin here its a best bet of reasoning towards that which he couldn't have. And did that make him at least slightly less at fault of the coming counterculture resistance towards a fallible existence outside the self loathing? I guess that's just up for you to decide.
And in any given moment's notice to entail a greater sense of effigy would have you believe (in this story yet untold) it could be argued that a "greater good" effect may have been achieved more quickly if at any point we'd just decided to look up (and further ahead) to explain (or try) away these shortcomings.
But those ghastly first years out of grade school never had its punchy conclusions that were promised, so a left of want (politics aside) and concern burned on as coals of semi satisfaction amongst a series of pseudo relationships with gals (and their pals) ensued in the coming ties and years. Tears in fabric of time kept up with the young lad as he drifted aloft in a page read from any other - the bouncing baby boy of yesteryear now not so near; suddenly appearing to force a new perspective aside himself and those held dear.
Oft that abundance of near fear beget a bigger queer designator now that a punchline grows close, what pray tell, must this bullshit spouting of Corinthian crypto babble entail in its unclear nature? Funded by a lack of any such bliss, it obviously couldn't have tormented that poor sibling off the next week's sweeps. Here it stands onwards towards some God awful funeral. Contended amends attempted on fuel raved races began asunder to unravel the contoured conundrum of (dear God don't say it) Kalamazoo.
Enter this new chapter, a one where spelled out somethings get some further refinement. I'm talking of course of a hellbent teenage stop sign stealer with minimal parental oversight and a pension for watching it burn. An anarchist cookbook carrying white liar brought up burb side and only those to confide were of similar concern (but not to those in the know of that time).
Without break beats of defined on street skate sweep shoes shown frontside, this kid back slid amidst new nerds (core less, messed yes) hacky sack lack of perfunct (more post punk) skids. But they held omens abroad of loaned barrowed and stoned what coulds and should'ves known. A philosophic less anthropic treat for opiod Street meats. And if he fell forward to a back pedal only to meet amid less discreet means.
—-------2-------
A fevered dream caught somewhere adrift off an oft forgotten coast starts to replay over in her mind. Had that baby been conceived once before? Or was she thinking of that other someone who visited only around once it'd revealed itself to be nothing, back when she had forsaken the thought of another. What a bastard - she had listlessly been reminiscing over a thought buried deep and said to herself. It won't be over so soon.
But come that fall it did manifest to child, bearing a boy to a chilly November snowfall. Amidst a twist of the knife she called fate it began the tearful yet soft and joyous moment of time aligned to forever move forward under the Jonathan name. A subtle empire gaining unnoticed traction but a sole survivor of the cold. A trudge through the drifting night built out a new home shrouded in a kept keen kindness, all against a silk black background sliced by the crying child. But she wanted but nothing to hear forth new cries of criminal intent upon a tease of tea leaf greens - a request she wouldn't receive for many months still.
A father figure fell away further along but the mother and child hardly noticed as their bond had grown in strengthen bounds. Years over and past blew out in candle songs, smoke fleeting. This continued basketcase couldn't tell from which way this entered story could turn. Til next.
-----1 cont------
Out in front again, the kid grew out a beard and blasted basketball tall tracks til he could up and fly the coup de Gras towards the college end all be all. A further clusterfuck of hairspray turn ons and blasted speaker bars turned innocence to bliss. A rained down entitlement bespoken to high lives reinstated by high fives. All the while clueless to an impending impact creeping pipeside... A billow of hinge smoke keeping with bloodshot binge sessions. Awaiting a new(ish) chapter of unrequited love and chimeras.
Years in and sin swept easily and more further akin to that of which brought joy to this kid. It neither occupied nor tried that too-fine-to-strike balance and instead bolstered new found confidence for access into the social world of what made those most interesting tick. A fascination with the morose and absurdist nihilism pertained to youth culture and its counter made damned sure to elicit dopamine responses routine. And within the unclean thoughts of whores came more torn jean short core beliefs manifest by dates in dirty dorms. Those sheets of passion laundered only when the quarters conjured quarterly.
Balanced side steps of outdoors core shot camp meals fed further beliefs in a construct of conservationism, not a full fledged rabid form but rather an easy assessibility towards recycling, cycling and such. This penchant type conformed casually (of course). Coming to terms slowly with existential elemental biochem midterms meant faltering grades the likes of which could only be recovered via an aaa style turnaround, a twist of fate far too flung wayside by this point to matter much. So the trust resided in his white privilege pedigree that a landed foot fall ensued, which in an unfortunate set of underlying circumstances it did, quid pro quid. A love interest disintegrate grew and died distantly but not before hard lessons learned in trist bid fixes flew off some rallied handlebars into a six pack smashed on the street. Sixish stitches later and the pounding forhead finally subsided its raffled reclusion amongst like minded boozer bros and a wised up new sense of being blossomed forth. Just in time to fly the first coop...
----
Sometime fed later with a tied noose left loose begrudgingly entrusted this kid to amiss his last kiss. But he knew deep down that gibberish was just a lack of leadership so he opted forth around a newfound plan to make himself a first flush rush. An easy and cool salaried gig lasted around a few iterations of self taught coded quizzical pseudo isms bereft behind walls of css (and the likes). It paid what tech pays and laid ground soft enough to slide yet frozen forth worth to skate by on. A few bids on mid risk entro entities slipped, dipped or up ticked with a fly by night left bent anti alt right. So perchance it quest lest and ever against the neo fascsict kill list. skate trick dip lip service shit became the defacto default for the ensuing years, minus the occasional tears.
---2 cont---
A fire lit wick made due on its table askew - years worn in on its tin covered lid. Mother and adolescence confided in a listless time of freed up memories. A rocker tilts too, a hummed hyme softening a crackle amidt the crying cackles. Maybe too subtle, Jon now believed he could tell it was happening, even before his ever gracious mother turned and pointed. Flying embers sparking suspicions surround this volatile yet ever gentle situation.
Could those in the other room hear? So near and new, these of those could likely induce a felt commiseration in that which they were about to do. Young as they were, this overabundanced and overtured delinquent couldn't find casually cut conversation with his unwitting mother. And she of course had as much to confide in him as those snow cold nights endured endlessly and oft alone. But it gave all involved a solace to enact newfound games of confusion and wit to wear out more. And although that's not EXACTLY what they came for, it amounted at least to a decent start. A cold beginning.
--------1
Enraged by the mundane ways in which this tormented bliss gave fruitless new kicks, it was once again time to move through college onto an interim gig with which a few friends might stick. It peppered an otherwise bland existence to pop off cliffs under sticks and over stones with rotating carbon whips. So true found out now though that a turn too swift or a boost too bold could turn an ugly situation towards a contortedly deadly one- a vision flashed forcefully down brittle bones fighting a flailing fall through steepened snow. But what held out below was an ambulance of emotion and raw science fed slow, and repairs became commonplace on a body made new. A titular titanium thorasic replacement resplendent.
A paradigm twist kept bliss at bay for trades of familial confines contortionist sections of the new shtick manifest quick. He'd be want to say this is and that of an old time gone by, when pushing envelope felt like oh so sly. My oh my. Bringing back leftist mist kissed for helping those less sick made psych that much more minor bliss entangled amiss. Fortunes alluded to and questionable quotations forbade distrust balancing out the lust for women out of touch.
----2-----
As spring spry its categorical cry, the child man left off towards pastures of war and torn, but mother adorned the letters back not forth. She began a gardened pathway littered with quick bricks. A better path however is always lay in a wait trait made for dear Jon.
One summer solstice lay await three vagabond drury maniacials passed oft as mere mortal cordials. Knocked on door kept at core principle just unlocked as it'd ever been. And in walked ours--
To turn out in a bloody rage of protectorate fury or simple soft talking to towards these would be felons? Nothing bitter nor better amounting to cut forth rates of emaciated conglomerates could confirm how near (or far). This amounted to a treason both of trust and nary a wistful lust in bringing about curdled queues of fanciful crusts. But the rusted handle of the family handgun could cure not only this perfunctory kill but also land a lot (or little) in the county rails.
Bailed out yet binged over could be said for the red left dead in nearby Denver. But then against she'd married into said big bad bed met with debts paid sereptiosiosly as they could be, but sad saddles weren't available save those early enough to the priced powerful. Bing pot, she mentioned briefly and unceremoniously during their latest fit in encounter in which neither would confirm nor deny any involvement of behalf of the accompanied minor's rigeromorol.
Great entendre mast forward let back and reestablished as nothing more than this new found fantasy. A conundrum pandemiconium of the truths and half fast lies on epicurium lasted days on confinement to an excellerometer pained crown parasite.
In enough time, this group would gather and leave the mother child to be, but not without a visit from the venerable darkened doorways of a time comforted not by passage but rather a killers quiet rage. Whispered death on all the current and past doorways signal this fateful fulfillment, casting cutouts of cut out tongues and eye lashes all lashed brutally.
She was, she is, she knows. And as smoke continued its billows and soft winds bereft the building of said windows, our mother sleeps asound. Crows and sparrows abound deep dreams of days past and her family forever kept. A tired feeling, nah persistence crept it's way into the small room as the militia men and this decrepit heroine spoke softly as not to arouse suspicions amongst the lower ranks, but of course the impending violence is was a good all the young men's minds. But a hold steady baxkdrp grew and grew up as enigma to our queer sense of accomplishment self and selfless deflation. Not quite sure of the agreement traditional cited encyclopedic but rather than any other lesser known.
Crept except new fortified sideways bellows along walls of more than Newsome cortisone. A draft nearby lit at a new nite twit for else a quit. Baked into a at baked bean metal tea sets in nephew riboflavin or is it diboflav concave cavities clustered close over cavernpus vprtexes on greed a d greedily still,
Buy items that we tent a few cool cat and kitten enough to yo be memed up (and over,) towards, then I'm not never not going really sure what is.
A time and again effigy to a what could have should have been made quaint upon a moonlit sin and let's say once more for score SHOULD HAVE BEEN. but in endings abruptly to construct such elements stuck in the rut of world glory and harmonious yet seldom cartoon quilted out on quotes for those who wished they'd wrote. A toy car given to slim nevertheless dim features upon preachers known to Quiver quack a then yeah, why not, attack
Bring this all back, a beginners basically leftist call to allegory made stories of kind bud dy comedy. Mr knows not what a con man dors when wakey wakey eggs android bac on it the level of a toast giving groomsmen building news dens of tax haven bling it meant it of good, dishevalled men.
Some fleeting throw towards naught a business overtowed node began thus a near new and entirely untrue narrative by which all forms of effect can (and should) battle a sense if singular change is made. Creatively we careen to war edges bent twisted fist again and again and again. We turn ten. It's a bitter light turned sightward that emboldens a new mistrust of government and oversights and midnight bar fights.