Glimpse into a Dystopian Mind

I wake up to the still lingering images of wading ankle deep in the blood and viscera of everyone you have ever known, the bodies of friends, loved ones, acquaintances, and enemies strewn about in ragged chunks... And I wield the axe, sticky with the carnage I have left scattered. How does one cope with this sort of thing?

Alone again at one of my usual haunts. I swear if I come here much more they are going to name this seat after me like they did with Norm from Cheers.  It's slow tonight so the waitress is bored and extra flirty. She teases me for eating alone again and I laugh it off, but it stings.  I decide tonight, I need some help relaxing so I call the waitress over to order a drink. As she comes near, she slowly drags her fingernails between my shoulders sending an all but forgotten sensation thru my body. It takes me a few seconds to regain my composure enough to order.  The harmless yet slightly crude flirting continues each time she passes but I know it's not real, I'm almost twice her age and she's far too cute for an old ogre like me, but it's fun to pretend and imagine. I ask for my check and pay my tab, as I get up to leave this tiny, overly flirtatious waitress wraps her arms around me. I'm totally caught off guard but I hug her back, awkwardly.  I turn ...

 Predawn on a dreary day, A once imposing figure of a man laid on a picnic table in a small park in the middle of town reading a tattered paperback and drinking tiny bottles of Rumple Mintz, unsuccessfully ignoring the world around him and failing quieting the demons that corrupted his thoughts.  He hears the scornful whispers of the passers by, the painful words heard so many times before, words that tear pieces from his soul. The pain in his massive chest growing worse...  Setting the book aside he chugs his last bottle and lights a stale, half smoked Camel greeting the first sliver of daylight miserable, drunken, and stinking of stale smoke and liquid Christmas.  New days, old days, they are all the same days when you fight with demons and can no longer embrace the pain...

Greetings everyone! It has come to my attention that there may have been an issue with the posting of comments. I did some digging and hopefully have fixed the issue because if your so inclined I enjoy reading what you all think. Thanks again for reading, Me

Visiting an old friend, it's been a couple of years since we have seen each other. Life can sometimes get in the way of the closest friendships. We sit on the couch, she leans back into me, my arm draped over her. My usual tension fades as we relax and discuss the present happenings in our lives and the directions we are going. Mentions of our sorted pasts cause many laughs to be had, several tears to be shed, and a few questions to be pondered. It's been far too long since I've been this comfortable. The hours pass too quickly. We have a long hug as I leave with a promise to meet up again soon, but who knows how long that will be... I miss her already.

To everyone that survived with me (you all know who you are).  I remember a group of dumb-ass 17 year olds, beers in hand, standing around a fire in the middle of nowhere on a cold autumn Saturday night. Couples cuddle close, some just for that evening. We talk about nothing and laugh good laughs. We drink more that we should and have trouble lighting our smokes. We are reckless and we don't care.   We think we are immortal There was no conceptualization of the future, living moment to moment, without any forethought or worries of that which would soon assault us. Just a few more months, in a sliver of time our paths lead in different directions. Before wandering or being thrown into our own lives as adults. Some of us are still friends, a couple have reconnected after many years, others have drifted off, and a few have already left us entirely... If those drunken dumb-ass 17 year olds had the tinyiest hint of what was to become their future would they change any...

2:37 Am Peacefully sleeping Memory...  Morphine blissed out Cold Distance voice a thousand miles off INSTANTANEOUS UNADULTERATED PAIN no more morphine fog surrounded in unfamiliar surroundings Laid out on a cold metal table   jabbering masked figures Panic... awake Phantom pains still burning my own bed 4th time this week it's happened. I used to love sleeping...

Pre-dawn, a chilly spring morning, the smell of gasoline and cheap coffee, crisp $20 dollar bills, the sun begins to peek at me from the east, 85 mph on a lonely desert highway to the middle of nowhere, I still can't outrun the demons.

A once imposing figure of a man sits upon a purposeless cement sculpture in the middle of an almost abandoned outdoor mall watching the few seemingly lost, content couples browse the almost bankrupt shops. He contemplates his now obvious mortality, the sadness of his solitude and his longing for a companion for the time he has left. The faded yellow knit cap he is talking to offers no opinion as it's not a great conversationalist.

Hi there, Well what do I say, if your here you probably already know me and if you don't, and you continue to read my posts you will get a little glimpse into the madness that floats around inside of my head. I hope you all enjoy! Some might be wondering why I'm starting this, well a friend mentioned, after one of my random FB posts that they would read a book if I wrote one, So this may be a possible beginning to one, or just a journal of ones decent into lunacy. Oh yes before I go for now, I will say that I enjoy feedback on my writings and I'm almost always up for a good conversation.