My older brother has just left for London, after ten years in Rome. New life, new chances, new hopes. Just wanna take this opportunity to wish him all the best with his endeavour, goona miss the fights with him....
T.
giovedì 3 settembre 2009
Domestic violence
I was riding the tram yesterday, as rarely I do, going to work , when a woman passed in front of me. Yes, I know, you see those every corner of every street, but not all of them are like this one was.She was wearing shorts and the bruises(read scars and the whole nine yard) were quite visible on her legs. Now, I'm not gonna assume she's into that line of work or that her presumed pimp or clients hit her. She was in her late thirties, for bloody sake. Why should she be working that job, or anybody else, for that matter.
Now, I hate the ''I fell on the stairs'' or ''a rabid dog chsed me and bit me in the process'' type of stupid explanations to cover up what's crystal clear to Stevie Wonder himself:men violence on women.
I can't grasp the concept of a woman being harrased, beaten, hit, whatever and still hang out with the attacker or love him.Cause I'd need to take a deep breath before I could start naming all the cases I know or heard about about doemstic violence and whatnot.
One other thing I was interested in pointing out was that lots of these abused women, may they be wives or not, don't even complain. I don't understand their state of submission. I ain't saying the abused shoud turn into vigilantes and shit, but for fuck sake girls, have a bit more pride. Cause the vicious cycle goes like this ''he hits you, you don't do shit-he hits you, you can't leave him-he hits you, you won't leave him-he hits you, you love him''. Ain't that a bitch!?
I understand how love goes(don't we all think likewise?) and all that but still, how can they put up with it.I mean, on one side you've got the feminist movement, but on the other side the reverse of the medal shows another face to it.
A few months ago, while I was returning from my home country back to Rome, I had the pleasure to meet two gals(aren't I the charmer?!) whom with I chatted the whole two and half hours flight.Besides non-sense we got ourselves in a threesome conversation about cheating and shit.One of them was married and expecting a baby, too.(She was 25yo, though)
And she said that in case she found out, and I mean literally found her husband with another woman she wouldn't dump him.Not only that, but she'd think she was part of the motive why he'd cheat, due to her not fullfilling her wife duties, whichever are those.Now, what about that? Could anything be more fucked-up than that?
Ah, I'm already tired of the subject for now. I'll be back with new ideas as soon as i feel the need to re-open the topic. Until then, if I see a woman with bruises I'll ask what king of job she's got.
T.
Now, I hate the ''I fell on the stairs'' or ''a rabid dog chsed me and bit me in the process'' type of stupid explanations to cover up what's crystal clear to Stevie Wonder himself:men violence on women.
I can't grasp the concept of a woman being harrased, beaten, hit, whatever and still hang out with the attacker or love him.Cause I'd need to take a deep breath before I could start naming all the cases I know or heard about about doemstic violence and whatnot.
One other thing I was interested in pointing out was that lots of these abused women, may they be wives or not, don't even complain. I don't understand their state of submission. I ain't saying the abused shoud turn into vigilantes and shit, but for fuck sake girls, have a bit more pride. Cause the vicious cycle goes like this ''he hits you, you don't do shit-he hits you, you can't leave him-he hits you, you won't leave him-he hits you, you love him''. Ain't that a bitch!?
I understand how love goes(don't we all think likewise?) and all that but still, how can they put up with it.I mean, on one side you've got the feminist movement, but on the other side the reverse of the medal shows another face to it.
A few months ago, while I was returning from my home country back to Rome, I had the pleasure to meet two gals(aren't I the charmer?!) whom with I chatted the whole two and half hours flight.Besides non-sense we got ourselves in a threesome conversation about cheating and shit.One of them was married and expecting a baby, too.(She was 25yo, though)
And she said that in case she found out, and I mean literally found her husband with another woman she wouldn't dump him.Not only that, but she'd think she was part of the motive why he'd cheat, due to her not fullfilling her wife duties, whichever are those.Now, what about that? Could anything be more fucked-up than that?
Ah, I'm already tired of the subject for now. I'll be back with new ideas as soon as i feel the need to re-open the topic. Until then, if I see a woman with bruises I'll ask what king of job she's got.
T.
sabato 29 agosto 2009
Poem
The world is just a place you get lost in
put your thoughts aside and feel it with your heart
you know what you want cause you've the spark within
to get back to reality, that's the tough part
We may lose our innocence as years pass
we might forget we can do good as well
but nobody can steal our dream too fast
we're all children of God, though on Earth Lucifer fell
We hear babies cry and we see elders lose
their place in a cold-hearted society
what would we get if we could really choose
lives are lost on one side, there's no variety
So many things to tell, where to begin
who to prevent the end is near
we all have our ears shut and act like a machine
maybe it's time we open our eyes and see clear.
13 june 2009.
put your thoughts aside and feel it with your heart
you know what you want cause you've the spark within
to get back to reality, that's the tough part
We may lose our innocence as years pass
we might forget we can do good as well
but nobody can steal our dream too fast
we're all children of God, though on Earth Lucifer fell
We hear babies cry and we see elders lose
their place in a cold-hearted society
what would we get if we could really choose
lives are lost on one side, there's no variety
So many things to tell, where to begin
who to prevent the end is near
we all have our ears shut and act like a machine
maybe it's time we open our eyes and see clear.
13 june 2009.
The pack that never arrived...
----Inspired by real events-------
He was waiting the call. That was the deal. As soon as it got home, they would call, give him the pack and the story would be half finished. At least, part of his deal.But he kept waiting and waiting. No sign of the call, no trace of the package.
''What's taking them so long?''. It was due to arrive a couple of days before already and nobody had attentioned him in case something might had gone wrong and thus delayed its arrival.
He needed some fresh air. He needed to clear his thoughts. He'd get out of the house, take a few steps and maybe they'd let him know the pack reached its destination. He took his cell phone , they had the number.
He didn't instruct anyone in the house about the package. Nobody needed to know. No housekeeper, no butler, no relatives.
He was 100% sure he'll get the call as agreed as soon as he'd leave the house premises.The content of the package was slightly unknown to him. He only knew the components names and the whole quantities for each one but he wasn't an expert at combining them into one thing.He knew all the stuff that was in the package was harmless if not combined and untraceable.The most important aspect, though, was that the ones' the package was destined to in the first place will use those components to build an explosive device.
It had all started two weeks prior when his 8 yo daughter hadn't returned from school. He had received afterwards an anonymous call that had told him they had his daughter and in favor to get her back he had to get these substances from his industrial plant. A man with his position, that of the CEO and owner of the plant won't find any difficulties in providing the right things at the right time to the right people, they thought.
The anonymous caller had revealed himself later as being the head of a major terrorist organisation, planning an attack in the near future.
He had then called the factory unit of the plant to get the samples the kidnappers had asked for. But no sign of them yet. He took the path that would lead him to a small man-made lake that stood in the middle of his trees-covered park. It would take him a quarter of an hour to get there and get back, when he'd get the call.He finally arrived there, took a seat at one of the benches and layed the cell phone next to him, looking at it, waiting impatiently for this mircale call. Half hour had passed and still nothing.This was getting tricky and he didn't like it. He wanted to phone the factory and see if they'd sent it, but that'd be his sixth call concerning the matter and the whole thing might get suspicious to everybody that weren't supposed to get involved. The kidnappers had already instructed him to keep it as quiet as possible and to not get anybody else involved. He knew the local police was corrupt enough to not give a damn about him or his daughter, meaning the terrorists must have done their bribing routine already. Hell, even he had payed them once to get his dirty businesses finished and he knew once the money's in their hand they'll do whatever it takes to defend the ''employer'' and get things right. As not letting anyone mess up the plans.
The break he needed was over. He couldn't just stand there, doing nothing. It was little by little eating him. He took the road back to his villa.It was the first time he was actually looking at the trees, the plants, feeling the sound of insects and such. If these small things had gotten to him, go figure how he must've felt inside. His heart was dying whilst thinking about his daughter. Would they hurt her, would they torture her, would they treat her maliciously? He had no way to know any of that , but all he could do was hope they would't touch a single hair.
Upon his return to the house, the butler wanted to tell him something, but he closed his mouth with a sign and went to his office.
-Not now, Adam, I'm busy.....
He opened his pc, trying to get more info on who the terrorists were and what they really wanted. The name of the organisation the leader had provided him with didn't ring any bells whatsoever, but who knew how many small cells of people wanting to bomb shit up were there around.There was nothing on the internet, there was nothing in his archive files. The name didn't match with anything he knew or had known. They must've been new to the game, yet they seemed and sounded so professional and focused.He had to be a notch higher than them to forsee and outsmart them.
The cell rang.The melody sounded eerie and dark, painted with blood. He let it ring a few times. His whole body shaking, fearing that the caller would not be the person he'd expect to.
-Hello.......
His voice was low, but at the same time powerful.
-Did you get it?
He instantly recognised the man on the other end. The mastermind of the whole ''kidnap kid-get the things-make bomb-blow who knows what'' plan.
-Ehm, no....Not yet. It was due to arrive two days ago, I'm still waiting for it too...Listen, could I talk talk with my daughter, I just wanna hear her voice, see if she's ok..
-You're gonna talk with your daughter when you'll see her face to face, that means when you give me what I've asked you for....And yes, she's ok, I'm a business man, just like yourself, I'm not an animal
-Please, just one word.....
He sounded desperate, tears came down his cheek.
-Give me my things and we'll call it off....the other man sounded angry.
-I don't have them, it haven't arrived yet.....
-Why don't you tell me you went for a walk, waiting for the call and in the meantime the package did arrive at you house. They didn't call you personally but they talked with your butler that sent them away. I suppose you didn't speak with anyone of your house employees about the pack.....Am I right?
Silence stood in between the two men. They had been watching him from the beggining. The butler did want to say something, but he didn't even take the time to hear.He realised what he'd done.
-Am I right..? the man continued. Now you're telling me that you don't have the pack just cause you're stupid enough to have it slip through your fingers, right beneath your nose? What kind of a businessman are you, what kind of father are you, what kind of a fucking lame joke are you? You were credited with your kid's life and you fuck it up like this..?
-No, wait, I can get it back....Wait!!!!!!! he shouted
-I'm afraid it's too late, deal is off.....
A shot of a pistol was heard in the background and the screams of a young girl.
-No!!..No, No, No, No.......
He burst into hotter tears, falling to the floor.
-My baby, no.....
His whole body and mind would not react to anything else for twenty minutes.
He got up, went to his private cabinet, where he kept a gun. It was a Model 17 Masterpiece Smith and Wesson. He took it out of its box, and put the six inch barrel into his bouth. He couldn't taste the carbon steel, only the pain and the suffering mixed with tears and the bood that he sensed was leaving his body.If his daughter would not be on this world, he might not as well. They'd meet elsewhere, no kidnappers and no terrorists.
His phone rang again.He was ready to go into oblivion.The melody reminded him of his daughter, but he didn't loosen the grip on the pistol.The trigger was slightly moving, it would be just a split second till the bullett would carve its way into his brain, making a mess on the wall and floor.
The phone kept ringing. If he'd not answer it, his life would end. If he'd answer it, his life would never be the same......
He took the gun out of his mouth and put it in the box he took it from.He rushed to the other side of the office and picked up the phone.
-Hello.....
He was waiting the call. That was the deal. As soon as it got home, they would call, give him the pack and the story would be half finished. At least, part of his deal.But he kept waiting and waiting. No sign of the call, no trace of the package.
''What's taking them so long?''. It was due to arrive a couple of days before already and nobody had attentioned him in case something might had gone wrong and thus delayed its arrival.
He needed some fresh air. He needed to clear his thoughts. He'd get out of the house, take a few steps and maybe they'd let him know the pack reached its destination. He took his cell phone , they had the number.
He didn't instruct anyone in the house about the package. Nobody needed to know. No housekeeper, no butler, no relatives.
He was 100% sure he'll get the call as agreed as soon as he'd leave the house premises.The content of the package was slightly unknown to him. He only knew the components names and the whole quantities for each one but he wasn't an expert at combining them into one thing.He knew all the stuff that was in the package was harmless if not combined and untraceable.The most important aspect, though, was that the ones' the package was destined to in the first place will use those components to build an explosive device.
It had all started two weeks prior when his 8 yo daughter hadn't returned from school. He had received afterwards an anonymous call that had told him they had his daughter and in favor to get her back he had to get these substances from his industrial plant. A man with his position, that of the CEO and owner of the plant won't find any difficulties in providing the right things at the right time to the right people, they thought.
The anonymous caller had revealed himself later as being the head of a major terrorist organisation, planning an attack in the near future.
He had then called the factory unit of the plant to get the samples the kidnappers had asked for. But no sign of them yet. He took the path that would lead him to a small man-made lake that stood in the middle of his trees-covered park. It would take him a quarter of an hour to get there and get back, when he'd get the call.He finally arrived there, took a seat at one of the benches and layed the cell phone next to him, looking at it, waiting impatiently for this mircale call. Half hour had passed and still nothing.This was getting tricky and he didn't like it. He wanted to phone the factory and see if they'd sent it, but that'd be his sixth call concerning the matter and the whole thing might get suspicious to everybody that weren't supposed to get involved. The kidnappers had already instructed him to keep it as quiet as possible and to not get anybody else involved. He knew the local police was corrupt enough to not give a damn about him or his daughter, meaning the terrorists must have done their bribing routine already. Hell, even he had payed them once to get his dirty businesses finished and he knew once the money's in their hand they'll do whatever it takes to defend the ''employer'' and get things right. As not letting anyone mess up the plans.
The break he needed was over. He couldn't just stand there, doing nothing. It was little by little eating him. He took the road back to his villa.It was the first time he was actually looking at the trees, the plants, feeling the sound of insects and such. If these small things had gotten to him, go figure how he must've felt inside. His heart was dying whilst thinking about his daughter. Would they hurt her, would they torture her, would they treat her maliciously? He had no way to know any of that , but all he could do was hope they would't touch a single hair.
Upon his return to the house, the butler wanted to tell him something, but he closed his mouth with a sign and went to his office.
-Not now, Adam, I'm busy.....
He opened his pc, trying to get more info on who the terrorists were and what they really wanted. The name of the organisation the leader had provided him with didn't ring any bells whatsoever, but who knew how many small cells of people wanting to bomb shit up were there around.There was nothing on the internet, there was nothing in his archive files. The name didn't match with anything he knew or had known. They must've been new to the game, yet they seemed and sounded so professional and focused.He had to be a notch higher than them to forsee and outsmart them.
The cell rang.The melody sounded eerie and dark, painted with blood. He let it ring a few times. His whole body shaking, fearing that the caller would not be the person he'd expect to.
-Hello.......
His voice was low, but at the same time powerful.
-Did you get it?
He instantly recognised the man on the other end. The mastermind of the whole ''kidnap kid-get the things-make bomb-blow who knows what'' plan.
-Ehm, no....Not yet. It was due to arrive two days ago, I'm still waiting for it too...Listen, could I talk talk with my daughter, I just wanna hear her voice, see if she's ok..
-You're gonna talk with your daughter when you'll see her face to face, that means when you give me what I've asked you for....And yes, she's ok, I'm a business man, just like yourself, I'm not an animal
-Please, just one word.....
He sounded desperate, tears came down his cheek.
-Give me my things and we'll call it off....the other man sounded angry.
-I don't have them, it haven't arrived yet.....
-Why don't you tell me you went for a walk, waiting for the call and in the meantime the package did arrive at you house. They didn't call you personally but they talked with your butler that sent them away. I suppose you didn't speak with anyone of your house employees about the pack.....Am I right?
Silence stood in between the two men. They had been watching him from the beggining. The butler did want to say something, but he didn't even take the time to hear.He realised what he'd done.
-Am I right..? the man continued. Now you're telling me that you don't have the pack just cause you're stupid enough to have it slip through your fingers, right beneath your nose? What kind of a businessman are you, what kind of father are you, what kind of a fucking lame joke are you? You were credited with your kid's life and you fuck it up like this..?
-No, wait, I can get it back....Wait!!!!!!! he shouted
-I'm afraid it's too late, deal is off.....
A shot of a pistol was heard in the background and the screams of a young girl.
-No!!..No, No, No, No.......
He burst into hotter tears, falling to the floor.
-My baby, no.....
His whole body and mind would not react to anything else for twenty minutes.
He got up, went to his private cabinet, where he kept a gun. It was a Model 17 Masterpiece Smith and Wesson. He took it out of its box, and put the six inch barrel into his bouth. He couldn't taste the carbon steel, only the pain and the suffering mixed with tears and the bood that he sensed was leaving his body.If his daughter would not be on this world, he might not as well. They'd meet elsewhere, no kidnappers and no terrorists.
His phone rang again.He was ready to go into oblivion.The melody reminded him of his daughter, but he didn't loosen the grip on the pistol.The trigger was slightly moving, it would be just a split second till the bullett would carve its way into his brain, making a mess on the wall and floor.
The phone kept ringing. If he'd not answer it, his life would end. If he'd answer it, his life would never be the same......
He took the gun out of his mouth and put it in the box he took it from.He rushed to the other side of the office and picked up the phone.
-Hello.....
Stories from outside your window part 10 (Epilogue)
INTRO.
The hospital was packed. The sudden explosion heard half hour back had been the result of a bomb planted at a mall. And hence it was saturday, the hospital personnel could expect lots of kids injured. Doctors running around, phones buzzing, ambulances blazing their sirens, trainees showing their skills and left-out patients formed a chaotic scenery inside the halls and outside the sanitary building.
The hospital had always been lacking any serious funds for beds and latest technology, now that was even more evident.
The blow of the explosion not only had scared her, but probably her fetus as well. She was pregnant, 5 months in, and had passed by her doctor for a check-up. Her husband must've been on his way, blocked in traffic. The shockwave that came with the loud bang had damaged the right wing of the facility, forcing her doctor to move her in the part of the hospital that was receiving the victims of the mall.
-I'm sorry Mary, but we're kind of busy, I'll be with you soon!..said the heavy-breathing doctor. He exited the room as fast as he had made his appearence.
The ambulances had been bringing lots of injured and corpses too. The morgue personnel were now attending patients. Bodies stacked on other bodies waited to be examined and autopsied. The cause of death was obvious, but law was law.The woman was getting impatient. She was aware she couldn't get out the hospital whistling. There'd be too much chaos on the streets, besides another bomb, thus another explosion, would be a certainty. Staying in the hospital was a much better idea. Soon, her room got ''flooded'' with hit-by-debris kids, burnt people, all yelling and screaming in a mutual language, but making it sound like Tower of Babel. Her doctor had returned to the room, trying to take care of as many people as possible, patching injuries and administrating drugs.
-I'll be with you in a moment, Mary! Hold on!
The blood on people's faces, hands or clothes had made her faint.
In the whole confusion and velocity of events, she finally had gotten her pregnancy shot, while she was still unconscious.With the same syringe the doctor had taken care of administrating fluid medicine to near-dying explosion victims.
She hadn't gotten the virus herself, but after giving birth, her son was diagnosed as HIV positive.
A life had ended before it had even begun. A future torn apart by something she didn't understand. An existence lost to posterity.
She had named him Jesus, she didn't know if he'd get to see his 33rd birthday, he was in God's hands now......
SIDE A.(The happenings)
1.
The man entered the doctor's office. He was in his forties, casual clothed. He shook the doctor's hand and got seated in the big patient's armchair.
-So, what is it doc? We've seen each other three days ago. What's the big news?
The doctor took a deep breath.
-Well, I don't know how to tell you this, but you ain't doing too well health-wise.....
The man stared at his doctor, slightly grinning.
-C'mon doc, tell me what it is. What? Prostate, infertility, what?
-You've got lung cancer, not curable. You won't die tomorrow, but you won't celebrate Christmas either. I'm sorry, I've double-checked the test results and there's nothing I can do...I'm sorry...
The doctor's tone was cold and hollow, giving the man chills down the spine. He got up, grin absent, not looking the doctor in the eye and left the office.Upon exiting the private clinic, his shaky fingers managed to lit a cigarette and he drove off.
It was pub-celebrating time that evening.
2.
They'd be here any minute. He hadn't much time. ''The first place I spot one, I'm getting it'' he thought. And there it was, on the shelf , in one of the small stores in the market of the neighborhood. He grabbed it quickly and straight to the cash register. The older man behind it had a strange aura about him.
-Don't do it, mate!
-Do what? he answered , scratching his head.
-You know what I mean, don't do it. It ain't worth it, mate.Just enjoy life as it's given to you.
The older man seemed even stranger now.
-I've no idea what you're talking about! Could I have my change, please?..
The older man handed over the money and the client's razor.
-Just remember, once started, you can't stop...
-Get a life, man! the client said as leaving the store. It was his birthday and he had one last surprise up his sleeve.
3.He was eagerly awaiting him. He had gotten the money, so now not only could he pay for another one, but he'd erase the debts with the ''House''.The Guy made his appearence.
-I hope you were not bullshitting!..
The teen handed him the envelope and said:
-That shit not only covers for the one today but you'll find some extra for the future. Whenever I call, you bring it, fair deal?
The Guy went through the bills quickly.
-Nice job. There! ...and he handed the precious bag.
-See ya!
-See ya!
They parted ways. They both got what they wanted.
4.The Vangelis tape he had put on was giving him good vibes, to say the least. Sun was shining, what more could he want? He hadn't spent a great night but today seemed like it would make up for it. Her image came to his mind.He was seeying her smiling, something she hadn't done in a long time, at least not in his presence. It felt like she'd appear in the middle of the road. Then, his eyes became blurry and couldn't distinguish traffic anymore.
His foot fell heavy on the acceleration pedal.
5.With tears in her eyes, she torn the pages of the notebook. Pages of sin, pages of herself being sold, pages of herself becoming less and less a person and more a mere object. She asked the hotel owner to erase her name from official listings. Nobody had to know she had been there.Nobody had to know what she had gone through. It was back to quiet-boring small town life, where she could pull herself together and start fresh again.Her parents would understand. She left the hotel in a hurry , never looking back.
6.His head was buzzing, his body was numb. And all he wanted was some appreciation from his companions, that he hadn't gotten. He went out the room into the big dancing hall. For anyone in a normal state it would have been almost defeaning, but for him it sounded like music to fall asleep to,soothing for his ears. It must've been the excitement of seeying so many people enjoying themselves in his club that had put a smile on his face.
Just a moment later he collapsed to the floor, nobody minding him. His night was over.
7.A tear fell down his cheek as he thought one more time about his family. It had happened so fast that he hadn't even enjoyed life as a father and a husband. He was only given a taste of it. And lots of people instead were giving up on it, not knowing what they could lose.
It had been getting dark, he arranged the piles of papers and cartons to make his sleep more enjoyable, at most.It was the last time he thought about his family. He soon was to re-join them.
8.-I'm gonna put this shit on Youtube, dawgs! one of them said looking at the footage on his camera.
-That pig deserved it, yo! If it wasn't us, next day it's be him doing one of us. We did a good for humanity.
-He was twitching like a fucking chicken with its head ripped off......
They started laughing. The Gran Torino was not to be driven by amateurs, and he was less than amateur. The colour red of the traffic lights seemed like the revenge of the red blood they had been spilling earlyer when they met their dead-end. There was no high-school tomorrow, there was no more walk-ability for one of them tomorrow, there was no more group tomorrow.
They had been sent to different prisons.
9.The slick-clothed old man picked up the phone.
-So, is it taken care of? Have you got them?
He paused, listening the other end's answer.
-Oh, good. Go back at his house and burn it to the ground. I don't want anything tying him to me, understood?
He put the phone down.
The day had been fruitfull for business, three organs meant 50-60 thousand altogether. One of his bodyguards whispered something in his ear. He listened carefully and he nodded.
-Yes, ok, bring him in.
The man that had entered the office saluted him and took a seat.
-I've been told that you could help me...
The older man didn't respond, taking time with his observation.
-It depends what kind of help you need. Nevertheless I'm sure I can do something for you in exchange of something else, of course...
The old man grinned. The shit was getting better and better.
SIDE B.(The conscience)
1.''I really can't remember the first time I've smoked. To tell you the truth, I don't think I want to. I haven't thought about getting it, I mean there's millions of bastards smoking out there and they ain't having it. I just had to get it.And that prick doctor of mine could've told me in advance. It wouldn't have mattered, but still the thought counts. What's left now? To smoke my lungs out till ain't nothing left of them, fuck it, maybe that way cancer will go away as well.''
2.''Look, I ain't trying to explain my choice. You can't feel my feelings, you can't live my life, therefor don't make any assumptions. Anyway I don't think you could fully understand unless you'd be in my shoes. I've made a decision and I'm sticking with it. No backing off anymore, otherwise I'll be regreting it in a few years from now, I'll be going crazy or some shit like that. There's nobody out there that can change my mind.''
3.''What would you do if you were me? If you'd have an unemployed mom, a dad that doesn't call, not even on birthdays and no people to support you. You wouldn't know what to answer, would you? Cause you all live in your little perfect worlds and you wouldn't want it any other way. You see, for me, it's the same. I'm escaping this reality for something better. Drugs offer me this chance to have it all and I'm taking it. Where I'm going on my ''trips'' ain't no poverty, ain't no ordinary life burden, it's just me having everything.''
4.a)''It was wrong not to pass by her. I should've gone to her and apologise. How hard could that be? Actually, fuck that, she never did apologise to me for cheating. I mean, she did, but I don't think she was sincere, or was her? I'll never know now, will I?''
b)'' How did we get here? We started as a happy couple, there was a chemistry between us. Now poof, it's gone! We keep fighting like we actually enjoy doing it. It's stupid. I should've apologised, it wouldn't have been the end of the world...tell him I stil love him.Now, he'll never know that, will he?''
5.''It wasn't supposed to happen. I ain't got no other words to reffer to the whole situation. My tears won't make me feel better. After the bruises are gone, I won't feel better. Yes, I can start fresh again, but that guy took a piece of me and there's no way I can have it back. Sold merchandise is not changeable. What a way to fuck up my life, huh?''
6.''I don't give a fuck about any of your opinions. I've got the money so I can do pretty much every-fucking-thing. Drugs-check, booze-check, orgies-check. Now, go get yourself a job and stop babbling about my shit.''
7.'' Yes, I still think about them. Because I couldn't see me without them. I just couldn't have a house and a family. That's why I chose the life I've got. Besides, what does it mean to have a house. Does it make one stronger or a better person? I don't think so. Does a car transform one in a superhuman, I'd say no. People tend to take that too seriously. Without someone to share those with, they don't mean anything. And I didn't want to be like those people. If I'll be here tomorrow, I don't know , but I don't mind, it's ok.But do you?''
8.''It's survival of the fittest, niggaz. These muthafuckaz out there have got gunz and gangz, we've got to act up, nah mean? It was either us or him. And a dead nigger is always better than us dead. say what you will. This ain't racism, it's just our truth. They don't deserve to be here in the first place, fuck them, back to the sugar canes plantations, niggers!''
9.''This is the last chance I've got. Either this or it's dead end. It's been dead end for me all these years, I don't want my kids to have to deal with the same life as mine. I'd rather give my life for a brighter future for them.''
SIDE C.( The meeting)
They all woke up in one room. A blank white room, no windows, no doors, no lights, just plain white. Him in the centre, them around Him, forming a circle, seated, looking at one another. It was their first time they's see each other, and probably the last as well.
They wanted to shout and scream and speak, but they couldn't. Silence fell over the room. He looked everybody in the eye and spoke.
-The reason I've brought you here is simple. You're all been given lives, but at one point or another you've started to lose control over them. You've taken them for granted.Either that it's auto-destruction in Matt's case, or just something ricocheting from other people's lives, as Johhny here. But I'm giving you the opportunity to have another life. And this is how it's gonna work: you'll be sent back with another identity which you'll live until you've realised the mistakes you've done in your past existence. But don't haste yourselves, you've only got one life, treasure it. I can't choose for you, nor I can make you do something against your wills, but be aware you're given this opportunity, whomever doesn't take advantage of it will suffer its own mistakes again. Don't forget I'm always watching, in case of need you know where to find me: inside yourselves. There can be good from bad and vice-versa, the important thing is how you dosage those two elements within yourselves. And ask your hearts more often than your minds. Sometimes the answers are hidden, but that doesn't mean you can't find them. My friends, I'll be leaving you. I know it's gonna be hard, but you'll make it. Now, go to sleep!...
He waved His hand upon them and they went into a trance-like state of mind, only to wake up being them again.
His ashtray was almost full. He kept staring at it as if it gotten a spell over him. He had gotten a day off from work, he needed to think this well. He saw himself in the doctor's office receiving the news. ''Nah,I don't need this.'' The last couple of cigarettes in his packet were ''inviting'' him for another smoke. He took them and straight to the trashbin.
He had just finished to write the second note. The reflection in the razor didn't show himself anymore. He put it away. ''I don't need this.'' A few minutes later, his mom and the other birthday guests bursted into his room. He didn't have any surprise for them anymore, but him, nor them minded much.
He was looking at the purse. His aunt in the kitchen, talking on the phone. His craving for the much sought-after dose was increasing, but at the same time he looked at the other side of the coin, his young cousin being sick in the hospital.''I don't need this.'' When his aunt returned to the livingroom with the tea pot and cups he asked if he could come along to visit his cousin. No meeting would take place anymore, his pusher would have to trick somebody else, he wasn't gonna be a puppet anymore.
He hadn't had his drinks yet. Sitting at the bar he ordered just a coffee, drank it in a blink of an eye and made for the appartment. She'd sleep still, but it'd be worth it. On his way home, his eyes kept falling on empty beer bottles, broken on the streets. ''I don't need this.'' At home he finally apologised and made love to her in a long time. Things were going for the better.
She was outside the hotel, on the sidewalk, looking up at her rented room window. It was that hour and someone had entered her room,turned the lights on , making noises and breaking furniture. ''I don't need this..not this time.'' She had taken all her stuff in advance. Time to stop by her parents.
As the car was leaving behind the residential area, he stopped.
-What now? his friend asked.
-Get out!
-What?
-Get out I said! Actually I've got a better idea........ He got out himself, looking around and spoke.
-I ain't coming tonight anymore. You take care of Tina. I've got to do something, I'm sorry....Scratch that, I'm not.
-What's wrong with you, bro? You high or something?
But he didn't speak anymore, turning his face away from him.He started to walk up the street as his friend continued the road to the party venue. He could see parts of the city, the lights of the households or business' offices turned off one by one. ''I don't need this.'' When he got to the villa it was 5 in the morning and he used his parent's entrance.
He went to sleep. He didn't want to change anything. He'd see his wife and kid if he'd do this. but it didn't feel right. He could still do a lot with his life till then. ''I don't need this, now.'' He woke up and took a walk in the park he'd been in when sun was up. As he returned his ''place'' was burnt down, but he had another reason to go on with his life. Somebody up there was still looking after him.
The four friends met at their rendez-vous spot. They looked at each-other.
-Should we do this? one asked.
-Yes, we should, we don't need any of this.... the others agreed.
They threw the knife, the baseball bat and camera away and just sat down talking about how it would be the first day of high-school.
He looked at his sleeping kids, having to choose between a not-certain future for them or no future at all.''I'll take my chances, I don't need this.'' He never got to see the Boss' office, instead he spent the day looking for a job. Maybe luck would turn its face onto him this time.
They got together again in the same all-white room. He spoke to them.
-I'm proud of you all. Just don't give up on yourselves like the first times. You don't want to become this...
And he showed them dirt in his left hand.
-Be this!....he blew off some white feathers from his right hand.
-Now, take each-other's hands and remember this moment, remember me, for I won't be here for much longer.
He fell silent as all 12 formed a circle around Him, holding hands, forming one soul altogether.
OUTRO
The hospital room was dark, filled with damp air, drapes were closed. It felt like a grave, just medical machines bleeping made an eerie sound collage.His mom entered the room and turned on the switch. His dad had long time died. He woke up, opening his eyes, trying to smile when he saw his mom. The next day he'd be 33 yo, yet he knew he'd not make it.
-So, how's my fighter? the mom asked.
She looked worried but at peace at the same time. His words felt heavy, but he tried to speak nevertheless.
-I had a dream.....There were lots of people in it and I saved them from their fate . I gave them their lives again.
He started coughing. The IV's pumped medicine into his weak body, there was an apparatus helping his breathing and another one keeping his heartbeat rate in check.
-Easy son, don't force yourself.
He was struggling to keep his voice. His mom took both his hands into hers.
-I saved them...
-Yes son, you did...You rest a bit more, I'll go get some lunch.
She kissed him on the forehead. He smiled.
-I love you!
-I love you too, mom!
She went out the room, merely to catch her breath and let the river of tears flow freely on the red flamy cheeks.With her back against the door she could hear the flat-line signal of the machines that were partly responsible with keeping her son's life prolongued.
He hadn't gotten to see his 33rd birthday. He was dead physically for the world.
But the people in his dream were real, not the product of his imagination. He had saved them. He had given them new chances to do good out of bad, to start fresh again, to live their lives and not just follow a line.
And now he was living inside each one of them.Forever....
Peace and blessings,
Tuemckey
The hospital was packed. The sudden explosion heard half hour back had been the result of a bomb planted at a mall. And hence it was saturday, the hospital personnel could expect lots of kids injured. Doctors running around, phones buzzing, ambulances blazing their sirens, trainees showing their skills and left-out patients formed a chaotic scenery inside the halls and outside the sanitary building.
The hospital had always been lacking any serious funds for beds and latest technology, now that was even more evident.
The blow of the explosion not only had scared her, but probably her fetus as well. She was pregnant, 5 months in, and had passed by her doctor for a check-up. Her husband must've been on his way, blocked in traffic. The shockwave that came with the loud bang had damaged the right wing of the facility, forcing her doctor to move her in the part of the hospital that was receiving the victims of the mall.
-I'm sorry Mary, but we're kind of busy, I'll be with you soon!..said the heavy-breathing doctor. He exited the room as fast as he had made his appearence.
The ambulances had been bringing lots of injured and corpses too. The morgue personnel were now attending patients. Bodies stacked on other bodies waited to be examined and autopsied. The cause of death was obvious, but law was law.The woman was getting impatient. She was aware she couldn't get out the hospital whistling. There'd be too much chaos on the streets, besides another bomb, thus another explosion, would be a certainty. Staying in the hospital was a much better idea. Soon, her room got ''flooded'' with hit-by-debris kids, burnt people, all yelling and screaming in a mutual language, but making it sound like Tower of Babel. Her doctor had returned to the room, trying to take care of as many people as possible, patching injuries and administrating drugs.
-I'll be with you in a moment, Mary! Hold on!
The blood on people's faces, hands or clothes had made her faint.
In the whole confusion and velocity of events, she finally had gotten her pregnancy shot, while she was still unconscious.With the same syringe the doctor had taken care of administrating fluid medicine to near-dying explosion victims.
She hadn't gotten the virus herself, but after giving birth, her son was diagnosed as HIV positive.
A life had ended before it had even begun. A future torn apart by something she didn't understand. An existence lost to posterity.
She had named him Jesus, she didn't know if he'd get to see his 33rd birthday, he was in God's hands now......
SIDE A.(The happenings)
1.
The man entered the doctor's office. He was in his forties, casual clothed. He shook the doctor's hand and got seated in the big patient's armchair.
-So, what is it doc? We've seen each other three days ago. What's the big news?
The doctor took a deep breath.
-Well, I don't know how to tell you this, but you ain't doing too well health-wise.....
The man stared at his doctor, slightly grinning.
-C'mon doc, tell me what it is. What? Prostate, infertility, what?
-You've got lung cancer, not curable. You won't die tomorrow, but you won't celebrate Christmas either. I'm sorry, I've double-checked the test results and there's nothing I can do...I'm sorry...
The doctor's tone was cold and hollow, giving the man chills down the spine. He got up, grin absent, not looking the doctor in the eye and left the office.Upon exiting the private clinic, his shaky fingers managed to lit a cigarette and he drove off.
It was pub-celebrating time that evening.
2.
They'd be here any minute. He hadn't much time. ''The first place I spot one, I'm getting it'' he thought. And there it was, on the shelf , in one of the small stores in the market of the neighborhood. He grabbed it quickly and straight to the cash register. The older man behind it had a strange aura about him.
-Don't do it, mate!
-Do what? he answered , scratching his head.
-You know what I mean, don't do it. It ain't worth it, mate.Just enjoy life as it's given to you.
The older man seemed even stranger now.
-I've no idea what you're talking about! Could I have my change, please?..
The older man handed over the money and the client's razor.
-Just remember, once started, you can't stop...
-Get a life, man! the client said as leaving the store. It was his birthday and he had one last surprise up his sleeve.
3.He was eagerly awaiting him. He had gotten the money, so now not only could he pay for another one, but he'd erase the debts with the ''House''.The Guy made his appearence.
-I hope you were not bullshitting!..
The teen handed him the envelope and said:
-That shit not only covers for the one today but you'll find some extra for the future. Whenever I call, you bring it, fair deal?
The Guy went through the bills quickly.
-Nice job. There! ...and he handed the precious bag.
-See ya!
-See ya!
They parted ways. They both got what they wanted.
4.The Vangelis tape he had put on was giving him good vibes, to say the least. Sun was shining, what more could he want? He hadn't spent a great night but today seemed like it would make up for it. Her image came to his mind.He was seeying her smiling, something she hadn't done in a long time, at least not in his presence. It felt like she'd appear in the middle of the road. Then, his eyes became blurry and couldn't distinguish traffic anymore.
His foot fell heavy on the acceleration pedal.
5.With tears in her eyes, she torn the pages of the notebook. Pages of sin, pages of herself being sold, pages of herself becoming less and less a person and more a mere object. She asked the hotel owner to erase her name from official listings. Nobody had to know she had been there.Nobody had to know what she had gone through. It was back to quiet-boring small town life, where she could pull herself together and start fresh again.Her parents would understand. She left the hotel in a hurry , never looking back.
6.His head was buzzing, his body was numb. And all he wanted was some appreciation from his companions, that he hadn't gotten. He went out the room into the big dancing hall. For anyone in a normal state it would have been almost defeaning, but for him it sounded like music to fall asleep to,soothing for his ears. It must've been the excitement of seeying so many people enjoying themselves in his club that had put a smile on his face.
Just a moment later he collapsed to the floor, nobody minding him. His night was over.
7.A tear fell down his cheek as he thought one more time about his family. It had happened so fast that he hadn't even enjoyed life as a father and a husband. He was only given a taste of it. And lots of people instead were giving up on it, not knowing what they could lose.
It had been getting dark, he arranged the piles of papers and cartons to make his sleep more enjoyable, at most.It was the last time he thought about his family. He soon was to re-join them.
8.-I'm gonna put this shit on Youtube, dawgs! one of them said looking at the footage on his camera.
-That pig deserved it, yo! If it wasn't us, next day it's be him doing one of us. We did a good for humanity.
-He was twitching like a fucking chicken with its head ripped off......
They started laughing. The Gran Torino was not to be driven by amateurs, and he was less than amateur. The colour red of the traffic lights seemed like the revenge of the red blood they had been spilling earlyer when they met their dead-end. There was no high-school tomorrow, there was no more walk-ability for one of them tomorrow, there was no more group tomorrow.
They had been sent to different prisons.
9.The slick-clothed old man picked up the phone.
-So, is it taken care of? Have you got them?
He paused, listening the other end's answer.
-Oh, good. Go back at his house and burn it to the ground. I don't want anything tying him to me, understood?
He put the phone down.
The day had been fruitfull for business, three organs meant 50-60 thousand altogether. One of his bodyguards whispered something in his ear. He listened carefully and he nodded.
-Yes, ok, bring him in.
The man that had entered the office saluted him and took a seat.
-I've been told that you could help me...
The older man didn't respond, taking time with his observation.
-It depends what kind of help you need. Nevertheless I'm sure I can do something for you in exchange of something else, of course...
The old man grinned. The shit was getting better and better.
SIDE B.(The conscience)
1.''I really can't remember the first time I've smoked. To tell you the truth, I don't think I want to. I haven't thought about getting it, I mean there's millions of bastards smoking out there and they ain't having it. I just had to get it.And that prick doctor of mine could've told me in advance. It wouldn't have mattered, but still the thought counts. What's left now? To smoke my lungs out till ain't nothing left of them, fuck it, maybe that way cancer will go away as well.''
2.''Look, I ain't trying to explain my choice. You can't feel my feelings, you can't live my life, therefor don't make any assumptions. Anyway I don't think you could fully understand unless you'd be in my shoes. I've made a decision and I'm sticking with it. No backing off anymore, otherwise I'll be regreting it in a few years from now, I'll be going crazy or some shit like that. There's nobody out there that can change my mind.''
3.''What would you do if you were me? If you'd have an unemployed mom, a dad that doesn't call, not even on birthdays and no people to support you. You wouldn't know what to answer, would you? Cause you all live in your little perfect worlds and you wouldn't want it any other way. You see, for me, it's the same. I'm escaping this reality for something better. Drugs offer me this chance to have it all and I'm taking it. Where I'm going on my ''trips'' ain't no poverty, ain't no ordinary life burden, it's just me having everything.''
4.a)''It was wrong not to pass by her. I should've gone to her and apologise. How hard could that be? Actually, fuck that, she never did apologise to me for cheating. I mean, she did, but I don't think she was sincere, or was her? I'll never know now, will I?''
b)'' How did we get here? We started as a happy couple, there was a chemistry between us. Now poof, it's gone! We keep fighting like we actually enjoy doing it. It's stupid. I should've apologised, it wouldn't have been the end of the world...tell him I stil love him.Now, he'll never know that, will he?''
5.''It wasn't supposed to happen. I ain't got no other words to reffer to the whole situation. My tears won't make me feel better. After the bruises are gone, I won't feel better. Yes, I can start fresh again, but that guy took a piece of me and there's no way I can have it back. Sold merchandise is not changeable. What a way to fuck up my life, huh?''
6.''I don't give a fuck about any of your opinions. I've got the money so I can do pretty much every-fucking-thing. Drugs-check, booze-check, orgies-check. Now, go get yourself a job and stop babbling about my shit.''
7.'' Yes, I still think about them. Because I couldn't see me without them. I just couldn't have a house and a family. That's why I chose the life I've got. Besides, what does it mean to have a house. Does it make one stronger or a better person? I don't think so. Does a car transform one in a superhuman, I'd say no. People tend to take that too seriously. Without someone to share those with, they don't mean anything. And I didn't want to be like those people. If I'll be here tomorrow, I don't know , but I don't mind, it's ok.But do you?''
8.''It's survival of the fittest, niggaz. These muthafuckaz out there have got gunz and gangz, we've got to act up, nah mean? It was either us or him. And a dead nigger is always better than us dead. say what you will. This ain't racism, it's just our truth. They don't deserve to be here in the first place, fuck them, back to the sugar canes plantations, niggers!''
9.''This is the last chance I've got. Either this or it's dead end. It's been dead end for me all these years, I don't want my kids to have to deal with the same life as mine. I'd rather give my life for a brighter future for them.''
SIDE C.( The meeting)
They all woke up in one room. A blank white room, no windows, no doors, no lights, just plain white. Him in the centre, them around Him, forming a circle, seated, looking at one another. It was their first time they's see each other, and probably the last as well.
They wanted to shout and scream and speak, but they couldn't. Silence fell over the room. He looked everybody in the eye and spoke.
-The reason I've brought you here is simple. You're all been given lives, but at one point or another you've started to lose control over them. You've taken them for granted.Either that it's auto-destruction in Matt's case, or just something ricocheting from other people's lives, as Johhny here. But I'm giving you the opportunity to have another life. And this is how it's gonna work: you'll be sent back with another identity which you'll live until you've realised the mistakes you've done in your past existence. But don't haste yourselves, you've only got one life, treasure it. I can't choose for you, nor I can make you do something against your wills, but be aware you're given this opportunity, whomever doesn't take advantage of it will suffer its own mistakes again. Don't forget I'm always watching, in case of need you know where to find me: inside yourselves. There can be good from bad and vice-versa, the important thing is how you dosage those two elements within yourselves. And ask your hearts more often than your minds. Sometimes the answers are hidden, but that doesn't mean you can't find them. My friends, I'll be leaving you. I know it's gonna be hard, but you'll make it. Now, go to sleep!...
He waved His hand upon them and they went into a trance-like state of mind, only to wake up being them again.
His ashtray was almost full. He kept staring at it as if it gotten a spell over him. He had gotten a day off from work, he needed to think this well. He saw himself in the doctor's office receiving the news. ''Nah,I don't need this.'' The last couple of cigarettes in his packet were ''inviting'' him for another smoke. He took them and straight to the trashbin.
He had just finished to write the second note. The reflection in the razor didn't show himself anymore. He put it away. ''I don't need this.'' A few minutes later, his mom and the other birthday guests bursted into his room. He didn't have any surprise for them anymore, but him, nor them minded much.
He was looking at the purse. His aunt in the kitchen, talking on the phone. His craving for the much sought-after dose was increasing, but at the same time he looked at the other side of the coin, his young cousin being sick in the hospital.''I don't need this.'' When his aunt returned to the livingroom with the tea pot and cups he asked if he could come along to visit his cousin. No meeting would take place anymore, his pusher would have to trick somebody else, he wasn't gonna be a puppet anymore.
He hadn't had his drinks yet. Sitting at the bar he ordered just a coffee, drank it in a blink of an eye and made for the appartment. She'd sleep still, but it'd be worth it. On his way home, his eyes kept falling on empty beer bottles, broken on the streets. ''I don't need this.'' At home he finally apologised and made love to her in a long time. Things were going for the better.
She was outside the hotel, on the sidewalk, looking up at her rented room window. It was that hour and someone had entered her room,turned the lights on , making noises and breaking furniture. ''I don't need this..not this time.'' She had taken all her stuff in advance. Time to stop by her parents.
As the car was leaving behind the residential area, he stopped.
-What now? his friend asked.
-Get out!
-What?
-Get out I said! Actually I've got a better idea........ He got out himself, looking around and spoke.
-I ain't coming tonight anymore. You take care of Tina. I've got to do something, I'm sorry....Scratch that, I'm not.
-What's wrong with you, bro? You high or something?
But he didn't speak anymore, turning his face away from him.He started to walk up the street as his friend continued the road to the party venue. He could see parts of the city, the lights of the households or business' offices turned off one by one. ''I don't need this.'' When he got to the villa it was 5 in the morning and he used his parent's entrance.
He went to sleep. He didn't want to change anything. He'd see his wife and kid if he'd do this. but it didn't feel right. He could still do a lot with his life till then. ''I don't need this, now.'' He woke up and took a walk in the park he'd been in when sun was up. As he returned his ''place'' was burnt down, but he had another reason to go on with his life. Somebody up there was still looking after him.
The four friends met at their rendez-vous spot. They looked at each-other.
-Should we do this? one asked.
-Yes, we should, we don't need any of this.... the others agreed.
They threw the knife, the baseball bat and camera away and just sat down talking about how it would be the first day of high-school.
He looked at his sleeping kids, having to choose between a not-certain future for them or no future at all.''I'll take my chances, I don't need this.'' He never got to see the Boss' office, instead he spent the day looking for a job. Maybe luck would turn its face onto him this time.
They got together again in the same all-white room. He spoke to them.
-I'm proud of you all. Just don't give up on yourselves like the first times. You don't want to become this...
And he showed them dirt in his left hand.
-Be this!....he blew off some white feathers from his right hand.
-Now, take each-other's hands and remember this moment, remember me, for I won't be here for much longer.
He fell silent as all 12 formed a circle around Him, holding hands, forming one soul altogether.
OUTRO
The hospital room was dark, filled with damp air, drapes were closed. It felt like a grave, just medical machines bleeping made an eerie sound collage.His mom entered the room and turned on the switch. His dad had long time died. He woke up, opening his eyes, trying to smile when he saw his mom. The next day he'd be 33 yo, yet he knew he'd not make it.
-So, how's my fighter? the mom asked.
She looked worried but at peace at the same time. His words felt heavy, but he tried to speak nevertheless.
-I had a dream.....There were lots of people in it and I saved them from their fate . I gave them their lives again.
He started coughing. The IV's pumped medicine into his weak body, there was an apparatus helping his breathing and another one keeping his heartbeat rate in check.
-Easy son, don't force yourself.
He was struggling to keep his voice. His mom took both his hands into hers.
-I saved them...
-Yes son, you did...You rest a bit more, I'll go get some lunch.
She kissed him on the forehead. He smiled.
-I love you!
-I love you too, mom!
She went out the room, merely to catch her breath and let the river of tears flow freely on the red flamy cheeks.With her back against the door she could hear the flat-line signal of the machines that were partly responsible with keeping her son's life prolongued.
He hadn't gotten to see his 33rd birthday. He was dead physically for the world.
But the people in his dream were real, not the product of his imagination. He had saved them. He had given them new chances to do good out of bad, to start fresh again, to live their lives and not just follow a line.
And now he was living inside each one of them.Forever....
Peace and blessings,
Tuemckey
Stories from outside your window (Christmas special)
It hadn't snowed in four days, but the amount of white flakes from previous days was enough to cover up the ground for a few centimeters in a white blanket.If it hadn't been snowing , the month would seem like it's lost its warm festivity family get-together atmosphere that was supposed to bring.But it wasn't like that for everyone. The nicely town centre with its thousand and one marvellous colours would not be seen by them. The dozens of people wearing Santa hats and smiling would not be them.They wouldn't be part of the shopping oppulence in shopping malls. The '' help your next'' Christmas spirit would not reach them. But who were they?
They couldn't remember for how long they'd lived at the outskirts of the city. This part of the neighborhood was the last remaining spot to be getting electricity, but they couldn't even enjoy that, hence not having money to pay the bills. Hot water would come and go as it pleased the mayor. They were both unemployed and the little amount of cash gotten from the State as a supposed help for families in need would scarcely suffice for buying minimal groceries. They had two kids, one of 6 and the other one four years old. It would be a year till the oldest's time to go to school, but the chances of it happening were less than becoming millionaires olaying the Lotto.
Most of the neighborhood looked ripped off of a Middle Ages village and put in modern days times, and its inhabitants were ''keen'' on ''preserving'' the looks of it all.
Infants were playing outside in the snow. Putting up together snowmen or just mere snow-fighting. At least that took hunger off their mind.''Give the kids a toy to play with and they'll forget about everything else, may it be pain, poverty, food or the fact that the clothes they had on would not be changed with anything new this year neither''. That was pretty much summoning the parents' thoughts as they were looking at their offsprings from the appartment.
Normally, when one thinks of Christmas, he\she gets the visuals of laughter\smiling, glasses being filled with good wine and plates with unlimited variety of food. In one word :plentyness. These people's kitchens looked dark, and not just because they lacked light, sad and heavy, as if the ceiling would fall in any minute, unnoticed. There was an old fridge, rusty and empty, and an old oven and a small cupboard containing the less expensive groceries products they could find. This year was bound to be Christmas-less, just like in the past. There was no way they could pull it off with a nice meal. Potatoes and rice, just the usual.
Even though the kids had never seen\met or been given presents from Santa, they were eagerly awaiting him.''You can never know when he'll pop up. Believe he'll arrive and he really will.'' Thta's what the parents were telling them over and over again, after they'd remain empty-handed waiting for their presents. Their clothes looked older than them, and indeed they were.
Evening came and they went into the house. Clothes were soaked up from the snow, their mom hung them above the weak oven fire to get them dry.They were sitting in the cramped bedroom-turned-livingroom watching a black & white tv when their mom shouted ''Dinner's ready!''. They could only imagine the colours and the lights and the joy of kids and grown-ups likewise breathing and living Christmas onto the screen.
The meal looked and tasted like any other meal they had before. It was no special surprise like their parents had promised. But how could they tell them the truth about not having money, about not getting helped by no one, about feeling left out by the rest of the world. They couldn't, the kids wouldn't understand. And maybe the parents hoped and thought themselves of a miracle, in a sense. But it wouldn't arrive. They were like a deserted island in the middle of a clear-blue, full of fish ocean.
The meal had ended. It was time for them to go to bed and say their prayer. They kneeled in front of the only bed they had, crossed their fingers and began : ''Dear Lord, keep us and our parents healthy, make us do good deeds and protect us from evil.''
''And tell Santa to pass by our home tonight.'' the little one added.
They jumped into bed, tucked under the heavy blankets by the parents and given a bretzel each. Those were like sweets for them. They started munching on them, eyes open, thinking about Santa. He hadn't arrived this year neither. He had forgotten about them again. They fell asleep with tears in their eyes.
On the other side of the city, family gathered, songs were sung, stomachs were filled, presents were given. happyness was in the air, and everybody thought ''Oh, it's so swell it's Christmas time and we're so generous to each other!''
But no one thought about anybody else outside their own family.
It had started snowing again, making everything shine in the city's outskirts darkness.There was no laughter to be heard here, no gifts unwrapping, no carols, no Christmas....
Santa Clause had been passing elsewhere, but he hadn't brought anything to them.....
Merry Christmas!!!!????????
They couldn't remember for how long they'd lived at the outskirts of the city. This part of the neighborhood was the last remaining spot to be getting electricity, but they couldn't even enjoy that, hence not having money to pay the bills. Hot water would come and go as it pleased the mayor. They were both unemployed and the little amount of cash gotten from the State as a supposed help for families in need would scarcely suffice for buying minimal groceries. They had two kids, one of 6 and the other one four years old. It would be a year till the oldest's time to go to school, but the chances of it happening were less than becoming millionaires olaying the Lotto.
Most of the neighborhood looked ripped off of a Middle Ages village and put in modern days times, and its inhabitants were ''keen'' on ''preserving'' the looks of it all.
Infants were playing outside in the snow. Putting up together snowmen or just mere snow-fighting. At least that took hunger off their mind.''Give the kids a toy to play with and they'll forget about everything else, may it be pain, poverty, food or the fact that the clothes they had on would not be changed with anything new this year neither''. That was pretty much summoning the parents' thoughts as they were looking at their offsprings from the appartment.
Normally, when one thinks of Christmas, he\she gets the visuals of laughter\smiling, glasses being filled with good wine and plates with unlimited variety of food. In one word :plentyness. These people's kitchens looked dark, and not just because they lacked light, sad and heavy, as if the ceiling would fall in any minute, unnoticed. There was an old fridge, rusty and empty, and an old oven and a small cupboard containing the less expensive groceries products they could find. This year was bound to be Christmas-less, just like in the past. There was no way they could pull it off with a nice meal. Potatoes and rice, just the usual.
Even though the kids had never seen\met or been given presents from Santa, they were eagerly awaiting him.''You can never know when he'll pop up. Believe he'll arrive and he really will.'' Thta's what the parents were telling them over and over again, after they'd remain empty-handed waiting for their presents. Their clothes looked older than them, and indeed they were.
Evening came and they went into the house. Clothes were soaked up from the snow, their mom hung them above the weak oven fire to get them dry.They were sitting in the cramped bedroom-turned-livingroom watching a black & white tv when their mom shouted ''Dinner's ready!''. They could only imagine the colours and the lights and the joy of kids and grown-ups likewise breathing and living Christmas onto the screen.
The meal looked and tasted like any other meal they had before. It was no special surprise like their parents had promised. But how could they tell them the truth about not having money, about not getting helped by no one, about feeling left out by the rest of the world. They couldn't, the kids wouldn't understand. And maybe the parents hoped and thought themselves of a miracle, in a sense. But it wouldn't arrive. They were like a deserted island in the middle of a clear-blue, full of fish ocean.
The meal had ended. It was time for them to go to bed and say their prayer. They kneeled in front of the only bed they had, crossed their fingers and began : ''Dear Lord, keep us and our parents healthy, make us do good deeds and protect us from evil.''
''And tell Santa to pass by our home tonight.'' the little one added.
They jumped into bed, tucked under the heavy blankets by the parents and given a bretzel each. Those were like sweets for them. They started munching on them, eyes open, thinking about Santa. He hadn't arrived this year neither. He had forgotten about them again. They fell asleep with tears in their eyes.
On the other side of the city, family gathered, songs were sung, stomachs were filled, presents were given. happyness was in the air, and everybody thought ''Oh, it's so swell it's Christmas time and we're so generous to each other!''
But no one thought about anybody else outside their own family.
It had started snowing again, making everything shine in the city's outskirts darkness.There was no laughter to be heard here, no gifts unwrapping, no carols, no Christmas....
Santa Clause had been passing elsewhere, but he hadn't brought anything to them.....
Merry Christmas!!!!????????
Stories from outside your window part 9
The room he was ushered in seemed pretty small from the inside.Two wooden libraries stacked with books and photo frames gave an almost claustrophobic feel to it. In front of him a man in his sixties, guarded by two solid, but not excessively large men, sitting behind what it seemed to be a brand-new desk, hence it was clear it was not a piece of the same furniture the libraries were part of.
He got seated in front of the elderly man, greated him and spoke.
-I was told you could help me...
The slick-clothed, jewelry-clad, bald-going man took his time responding, instead prefering to keep eye contact and measure the young man that had just entered his office.
-Well, it depends what kind of help you need...
His tone was calm, yet menacing. It wasn't easy for one to actually ask a favor face to face from him. The younger man could barely control his fingers from shaking and heart-beats. He could almost hear it pounding in his chest, going faster and faster.
-Michael's been telling me about your case and I'm saying yes. But be aware, this is no game, I'm not your friend and most important you can't back out once it's begun.
He paused for a bit.
-I'll give you 5000....
-5000? the young man almost yelled at him.Michael told me at least 8000.I ain't doing it for less than 8.
-Listen son, you've come to me for MY help, thus you're in no fucking position to negociate this shit. Actually, fuck it, maybe I'll put one of my men to whack you on the spot, how about that??!!
His calm tone dissapeared, he was in angry-mode now, sounding like a beast ready to tear the young man in two.
-Go home and have some rest, I'll talk to Michael today, settle everything with him and he'll get to you tomorrow. Now, fuck off!
The young man excused himself, got out of the room and went home. His heart beats were forming a very loud orchestra in his mind now.
He had two infant twins. His wife had died giving birth to them. Left with no help whatsoever, just depending on a small welfare, every day was a struggle. For food, diapers, medicine.He was 26 yo, but he could already count the grey hairs.
Once he arrived home, he prepared some milk for the kids and ''debated'' on the idea of selling one of his kidneys for money. He had no other choice.Either that to make ends meet and maybe move out of town or give his sons to an orphanage and him become a pusher or a bum. He couldn't get a job, didn't have any qualifications, besides the whole ''economy'' was run by the man he had seen earlyer in the office.The ''shark'' of the town. No connections meant no job meant no money meant no life. And he had planned a half-decent life for his kids, if for him was not available.
The second day Michael gave him all the info on how things will have to go down and assured him that everything will be fine and that the Boss keeps memory of people that work with him, and who knows maybe he'll be put on a job-list.
The day the operation was taking place turned out grey and rainy, just like his state of mind. The Boss had supposedly called his personal doctor to carry out the proceedings in the small and poor town hospital. He had agreed to pay his hospital bills after the surgery, whilst the Boss would handle the doctor's fee and anestethics.
The kidney-removal had begun.The supposed-to-be expert surgeon was just a young trainee, doing all he was capable of. Everything by the book. Nevertheless , the anestethics dosage had been too much for the patient to cope, thus his heart went into cardiac arrest. The doctor had removed both the kidneys and liver by the time the Boss had sent word not to spare the young man's life.
On the black market each organ would cost roughly 15 to 30 thousand, depending on demand. It was good business and it was growing bigger and bigger, the people were no problem to find.
The Boss' men sealed the organs, dated the containers and sent them away. The young man lying on the surgery table, butchered, cuts still open, got sent to the incinerator. They hadn't even payed him in advance.
His kids would be crying by now. He had locked the door.A week back he had thought things were going for the better, now it was clear that was not the case.
He had wanted to sell his kidney for his kids, but in fact he had sold the chance for his kids to have a decent life........
He got seated in front of the elderly man, greated him and spoke.
-I was told you could help me...
The slick-clothed, jewelry-clad, bald-going man took his time responding, instead prefering to keep eye contact and measure the young man that had just entered his office.
-Well, it depends what kind of help you need...
His tone was calm, yet menacing. It wasn't easy for one to actually ask a favor face to face from him. The younger man could barely control his fingers from shaking and heart-beats. He could almost hear it pounding in his chest, going faster and faster.
-Michael's been telling me about your case and I'm saying yes. But be aware, this is no game, I'm not your friend and most important you can't back out once it's begun.
He paused for a bit.
-I'll give you 5000....
-5000? the young man almost yelled at him.Michael told me at least 8000.I ain't doing it for less than 8.
-Listen son, you've come to me for MY help, thus you're in no fucking position to negociate this shit. Actually, fuck it, maybe I'll put one of my men to whack you on the spot, how about that??!!
His calm tone dissapeared, he was in angry-mode now, sounding like a beast ready to tear the young man in two.
-Go home and have some rest, I'll talk to Michael today, settle everything with him and he'll get to you tomorrow. Now, fuck off!
The young man excused himself, got out of the room and went home. His heart beats were forming a very loud orchestra in his mind now.
He had two infant twins. His wife had died giving birth to them. Left with no help whatsoever, just depending on a small welfare, every day was a struggle. For food, diapers, medicine.He was 26 yo, but he could already count the grey hairs.
Once he arrived home, he prepared some milk for the kids and ''debated'' on the idea of selling one of his kidneys for money. He had no other choice.Either that to make ends meet and maybe move out of town or give his sons to an orphanage and him become a pusher or a bum. He couldn't get a job, didn't have any qualifications, besides the whole ''economy'' was run by the man he had seen earlyer in the office.The ''shark'' of the town. No connections meant no job meant no money meant no life. And he had planned a half-decent life for his kids, if for him was not available.
The second day Michael gave him all the info on how things will have to go down and assured him that everything will be fine and that the Boss keeps memory of people that work with him, and who knows maybe he'll be put on a job-list.
The day the operation was taking place turned out grey and rainy, just like his state of mind. The Boss had supposedly called his personal doctor to carry out the proceedings in the small and poor town hospital. He had agreed to pay his hospital bills after the surgery, whilst the Boss would handle the doctor's fee and anestethics.
The kidney-removal had begun.The supposed-to-be expert surgeon was just a young trainee, doing all he was capable of. Everything by the book. Nevertheless , the anestethics dosage had been too much for the patient to cope, thus his heart went into cardiac arrest. The doctor had removed both the kidneys and liver by the time the Boss had sent word not to spare the young man's life.
On the black market each organ would cost roughly 15 to 30 thousand, depending on demand. It was good business and it was growing bigger and bigger, the people were no problem to find.
The Boss' men sealed the organs, dated the containers and sent them away. The young man lying on the surgery table, butchered, cuts still open, got sent to the incinerator. They hadn't even payed him in advance.
His kids would be crying by now. He had locked the door.A week back he had thought things were going for the better, now it was clear that was not the case.
He had wanted to sell his kidney for his kids, but in fact he had sold the chance for his kids to have a decent life........
Stories from outside your window part 8
The four friends met at their rendez-vous spot. Exchanged handshakes and back pats. They had known each other for several years years now and formed their own group . It was their last day together and they had decided to spend it as a collective memory setup, something they could all talk about yaers after. They had the same age and more or less the same interests, music and movie wise. Other than that, they shared this peculiar form of violence.
-So, what are we gonna do tonight? one of them asked, looking the other three in the eyes.
-Well, drinking comes out of the ecuation. That shit is overrated, my niggas.
They weren't black , but they acted, talked and dressed like the stereotypical ghetto guy that hip hop videos create into one's mind.
-We've got to act up! Do some crazy shit, we might not see each other from tomorrow on. I mean we'll do, but shit, not like up until now.I'll be here, Mark and Jonesy will be sent to the other neighborhood and by the time we know it, we won't even remember our phone numbers. And that is fucked-up, my niggas.
-Word! the others reacted.
-Have you got the camera? the first one named Phill asked George, the one that had gathered them all.
-Yeah, dawg! Fo' sho'! And he took it out his baggies, showing it to the rest of the gang.
-I got it from this asshole that asked fifty bucks for it. I put my knife under his balls, he let go of his wallet plus the camera. Can you believe the prick? 50 bucks!? Fucking jerk!
They all started to laugh. They decided to move on and on the way they'd find something worth of rising their adrenaline to wanted level. They looked like a rip-off version of Alex and his droogs, all hungry to whoop some ass.
Firstly they broke a window of a electronics store. Didn't want to take anything from inside, just make some noise and some rumble. By the time they had gotten to the second and third stores trashed it had already gotten midnight.. The boys needed another kind of excitement. This was just a warm-up. They reached a deserted car-wash where inspiration struck them. They had a marvellous plan to have fun. After several attemps, George stopped a car.The only lights around were the traffic ones, the streets and surroundings looking eerie in the dark.
-Help me please, sir, my friend is hurt.He got hit by a car.We've got to get him to a hospital.
-What?.....the guy behind the wheel tried to ask back.But it was too late to get anything figured out.The street was poorly-lit, to say at most.As soon as the driver got out the car, Phill came swiftly behind him, kicking him with a baseball bat. The guy fell on the floor, gasping for air. The other two jumped on his back, holding him, George took out his knife pointing it to the driver's throat.The man was black, the adventure of the four could have not been better.
-Listen up, you piece of shit. Either you do as we say or you'll see your blood sprayed all over this goddamn nice Grand Torino.
The driver nodded.
-Now, get behind the wheel and get us to the old Billie's warehouse.
All five of them jumped in the car.George was still holding the knife at the black guy's throat from the back seat.
-Don't go too fast or too slow, nigger. Don't do stupid shit, don't fuck this up.
The driver was sweating like a pig. It was around 28 degrees C, but one could not close its eyes in front of the situation he was in as a major key pawn in his heavy perspiration. They reached the warehouse.
It was an abandoned site, one of the many closed facilities that lost its labouring hands to robots and production lines when the big economic boom had hit the city.
One could easily mistake it for a haunted site, hence it looked like witches and demons would call it a proper home.
They tied him to a water tube, stripping him waist up. Pointing three flashlights into the black guy's face, they created a blinding envrironment for them to consume thir sadic violence thirst. On the other hand, their faces were impossible to make out in the dark.They started kicking the blck man, punching him, taking turns. Each blow was stronger, faster, more violent than the previous ones.
-You niggers, you reek like shit even after taking a shower...Do you want to take a shower now, nigger? asked Jonesy.
But the black guy barely could lift his head and keep his eyes open, much less responding.
George, the knife expert, then started to carv lines with the blade into their ''fun mascot for the night''s flesh.
The whole torture had taken more than 40 minutes to perform and had left the hungry-fo-blood pack exhausted, their victim with all his ribs broken, one kneecap squashed by the baseball bat, twitching violently in his last stages of life. A prisoner at Guantanamo would've blushed seeying the bruises on the young man's crippled body. It was time for the next step.
-Mark, start recording this shit, dawg....said Jonesy.It's going down...
Phill took the knife from George asking if he was allowed to have the pleasure.
-For you nigga, everything, do us proud! screamed George.
With a swift move of his arm, the blade cut thick into the victim's jugular.
-This is how we used to kill pigs at my grandpa's time. Die pig-nigger, die! was yelling Phill triumphantly.
The black man could not hear him anymore, he was dead, not only his body tortured, but the look on his face too.
The young jackals had graduated from Junior KKK to full-time Charles Manson's followers.
They turned off the flashlights and left the warehouse,the black man still tied to the water tube, blood dripping from his throat. They jumped in the car and drove off.
None was really a driver, but Phill took out the spot, he had learned a bit from his alcoholic dad when he used to work at a garage.The awainting next day was the one that had led them to get together for fun session. They were only 15 and going to highschool, different ones.
Not having much experience with handling a steering wheel, Phill had crashed into another car, when traffic lights were red. The next day, they were brought to a hospital, all being in grave conditons, Jonesy being serious wounded, not able to walk anymore from the hit he had taken to his spine. A correctional facility was awaiting them all, as soon as the injuries had been cured and they had gotten out of the hospital.
It was the first day of highschool, but the bells didn't ring for them.....
-So, what are we gonna do tonight? one of them asked, looking the other three in the eyes.
-Well, drinking comes out of the ecuation. That shit is overrated, my niggas.
They weren't black , but they acted, talked and dressed like the stereotypical ghetto guy that hip hop videos create into one's mind.
-We've got to act up! Do some crazy shit, we might not see each other from tomorrow on. I mean we'll do, but shit, not like up until now.I'll be here, Mark and Jonesy will be sent to the other neighborhood and by the time we know it, we won't even remember our phone numbers. And that is fucked-up, my niggas.
-Word! the others reacted.
-Have you got the camera? the first one named Phill asked George, the one that had gathered them all.
-Yeah, dawg! Fo' sho'! And he took it out his baggies, showing it to the rest of the gang.
-I got it from this asshole that asked fifty bucks for it. I put my knife under his balls, he let go of his wallet plus the camera. Can you believe the prick? 50 bucks!? Fucking jerk!
They all started to laugh. They decided to move on and on the way they'd find something worth of rising their adrenaline to wanted level. They looked like a rip-off version of Alex and his droogs, all hungry to whoop some ass.
Firstly they broke a window of a electronics store. Didn't want to take anything from inside, just make some noise and some rumble. By the time they had gotten to the second and third stores trashed it had already gotten midnight.. The boys needed another kind of excitement. This was just a warm-up. They reached a deserted car-wash where inspiration struck them. They had a marvellous plan to have fun. After several attemps, George stopped a car.The only lights around were the traffic ones, the streets and surroundings looking eerie in the dark.
-Help me please, sir, my friend is hurt.He got hit by a car.We've got to get him to a hospital.
-What?.....the guy behind the wheel tried to ask back.But it was too late to get anything figured out.The street was poorly-lit, to say at most.As soon as the driver got out the car, Phill came swiftly behind him, kicking him with a baseball bat. The guy fell on the floor, gasping for air. The other two jumped on his back, holding him, George took out his knife pointing it to the driver's throat.The man was black, the adventure of the four could have not been better.
-Listen up, you piece of shit. Either you do as we say or you'll see your blood sprayed all over this goddamn nice Grand Torino.
The driver nodded.
-Now, get behind the wheel and get us to the old Billie's warehouse.
All five of them jumped in the car.George was still holding the knife at the black guy's throat from the back seat.
-Don't go too fast or too slow, nigger. Don't do stupid shit, don't fuck this up.
The driver was sweating like a pig. It was around 28 degrees C, but one could not close its eyes in front of the situation he was in as a major key pawn in his heavy perspiration. They reached the warehouse.
It was an abandoned site, one of the many closed facilities that lost its labouring hands to robots and production lines when the big economic boom had hit the city.
One could easily mistake it for a haunted site, hence it looked like witches and demons would call it a proper home.
They tied him to a water tube, stripping him waist up. Pointing three flashlights into the black guy's face, they created a blinding envrironment for them to consume thir sadic violence thirst. On the other hand, their faces were impossible to make out in the dark.They started kicking the blck man, punching him, taking turns. Each blow was stronger, faster, more violent than the previous ones.
-You niggers, you reek like shit even after taking a shower...Do you want to take a shower now, nigger? asked Jonesy.
But the black guy barely could lift his head and keep his eyes open, much less responding.
George, the knife expert, then started to carv lines with the blade into their ''fun mascot for the night''s flesh.
The whole torture had taken more than 40 minutes to perform and had left the hungry-fo-blood pack exhausted, their victim with all his ribs broken, one kneecap squashed by the baseball bat, twitching violently in his last stages of life. A prisoner at Guantanamo would've blushed seeying the bruises on the young man's crippled body. It was time for the next step.
-Mark, start recording this shit, dawg....said Jonesy.It's going down...
Phill took the knife from George asking if he was allowed to have the pleasure.
-For you nigga, everything, do us proud! screamed George.
With a swift move of his arm, the blade cut thick into the victim's jugular.
-This is how we used to kill pigs at my grandpa's time. Die pig-nigger, die! was yelling Phill triumphantly.
The black man could not hear him anymore, he was dead, not only his body tortured, but the look on his face too.
The young jackals had graduated from Junior KKK to full-time Charles Manson's followers.
They turned off the flashlights and left the warehouse,the black man still tied to the water tube, blood dripping from his throat. They jumped in the car and drove off.
None was really a driver, but Phill took out the spot, he had learned a bit from his alcoholic dad when he used to work at a garage.The awainting next day was the one that had led them to get together for fun session. They were only 15 and going to highschool, different ones.
Not having much experience with handling a steering wheel, Phill had crashed into another car, when traffic lights were red. The next day, they were brought to a hospital, all being in grave conditons, Jonesy being serious wounded, not able to walk anymore from the hit he had taken to his spine. A correctional facility was awaiting them all, as soon as the injuries had been cured and they had gotten out of the hospital.
It was the first day of highschool, but the bells didn't ring for them.....
Melancholy aka The last days of summer(dedicated to Moromete, written today 28th August)
Birds fly south and trees shed skin
the flowers die and the leaves fly
to another world, away from pain and sin
where children play in the fields of rye
the painting of it all looks dark and grey
people are covering their bodies more and more
although it's still sunny and everything's ok
we feel the warmth of summer, but we're cold at the core
we're waiting for a new cycle to arrive
winter will pass and leave its heavy print
only for our hearts to blossom and to thrive
summer will return, for now it's gone with the wind.
T.
the flowers die and the leaves fly
to another world, away from pain and sin
where children play in the fields of rye
the painting of it all looks dark and grey
people are covering their bodies more and more
although it's still sunny and everything's ok
we feel the warmth of summer, but we're cold at the core
we're waiting for a new cycle to arrive
winter will pass and leave its heavy print
only for our hearts to blossom and to thrive
summer will return, for now it's gone with the wind.
T.
A poem written on August 24th....
that goes like this..........
Every second of your life that slips away
every smile lost to eternity, every word you didn't say
every thought you didn't put to work
every chance you didn't take in consideration
every decision that you'll have to take when you get to the fork
in the road, this is my cry for liberation.
This is my joy, my pride, my pain, my sorrow
my youth, my death, my hope to see tomorrow
the hope to be still here and breathe fresh air
to see waves caress your skin while in the sea
the sun sends out a warning but we don't care
our mouths are shut, we look but we don't see.
Bless,
T.
Every second of your life that slips away
every smile lost to eternity, every word you didn't say
every thought you didn't put to work
every chance you didn't take in consideration
every decision that you'll have to take when you get to the fork
in the road, this is my cry for liberation.
This is my joy, my pride, my pain, my sorrow
my youth, my death, my hope to see tomorrow
the hope to be still here and breathe fresh air
to see waves caress your skin while in the sea
the sun sends out a warning but we don't care
our mouths are shut, we look but we don't see.
Bless,
T.
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