#I'm not saying people are evil for stepping on bugs or whatever but can we maybe not brutalize animals and act like it's funny | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-kipsabian · 4 months

Note

He doesn't really need a tag partner (I'm sure there are people he trusts enough to team with) but if Chuck is out forever can we have Kip step in and be a person for OC to lean on? I mean we could get him on TV possibly weekly (win win in my book) plus maybe we can get OC corrupted and boom it helps push the storyline with Trent? IF Chuck is able to come back, maybe he uncorrupts him? Thoughts?

SO. im sorry ahead of time that this will get longwinded and probably not gonna make a lot of sense but i have A LOT of thoughts regarding this whole situation

so this has been a very common thing to discuss in my dms ever since the shades of the best friends betrayal started when trent and oc entered into the tag team tournament (also shoutout to bugs for dealing with my shit constantly cause i know i can be unhinged ough), and what we dubbed as savior!kip has become a very intense hope in this storyline so... yeah ive been thinking about this possibility a lot ngl

im gonna put the rest of this under the cut cause lmao yeah. im gonna go off the rails

i wanna start this by saying that while i do want chuck to come back, im specifically hoping that he'll come back to team with trent again and to torment oc, that all of this has been one big ruse to see if oc really is their best friend or not (spoilers: hes not. trent is right about everything he said dont @ me). and oc is slowly starting to lack friends; seeing how things are going, things with kris arent that great. shibata and hook have their hands full with so many other things. rocky is obviously siding with trent, even if he doesnt say it directly out loud but roppongi vice forever basically, and the rest of chaos is mostly in japan (and okada is evil now so...). danhausen basically doesnt exist anymore. everyone oc has had around him has slowly disappeared, for one reason or another

so where does that leave us, exactly? you turn to the other side (or more in this case, the other side turns towards you to help out)

kip has been critical on twitter about the don callis family, and basically saying he would never join them due to disrespect from don. and we all know how much kip loves and cares about oc (i dont have to proof this to you you have seen all the sweet tweets and other stuff. this man used to use the kissy face emoji frequently while tweeting at or about oc come on now), so seeing these two words colliding would probably not sit very well with him, i'd imagine. while someone could argue that kip has lost interest in oc since he has dropped the title and thats all that was ever about...

first of all, the "sweet little clementine" nickname has been used multiple times throughout the timeline. this wasnt just a mind game trick to get into ocs head during the title feud, it was in there way way before that ever happened (i believe we are talking about full gear 2020 if i recall my timelines right [its around 3 hours and 9 minutes]); he has always been affectionate about oc in a really weird way (hes british tho so thats probably why). second, how many times has kip been after anyone else between ocs title reigns and after? exactly zero. when mox and fenix were champs, he didnt say a peep (he did, whoever, put out my favorite tweet of all time when oc lost the title to mox). after oc gained the title, he started tweeting again about it. and again when oc lost it, not a word. kip hasnt said anything about the international title or rodney since then; the only time he did post, he told rodney to fuck off cause clementine was his. and since then? kip has been keeping an eye on the best friends feud so... do whatever you wish with that information (1, 2, 3)

the point is, the obsession was NOT with the title; hes just always been affectionate about and towards oc, but in a really weird and obsessive, kind of a destructive way

why is this necessary to bring up? well...

do you really think he would stand idly to the side to watch oc align himself with someone like don callis when all his other friends have abandoned him, all these things considered?

do i need to remind you of something? cause i will remind you of my favorite post

throughout this entire time, kip never gave up (im aware this is technically non-canon as this is a quote from stream but. if you know their history over on twitch, it counts. the feud bled over there during its prime too). yes this technically had everything to do with him tearing ocs friends away from him when this was posted, but.. dont you think its fitting tho? considering the situation oc is in now? and while yes it might seem that kip is taking the side of trent in this whole thing, this was specifically before don callis inserted himself into the situation by whispering whatever the hell into ocs ear

and what better time and way for kip to insert himself back into ocs life as the one person he can still rely on than right here and right now, when oc is so desperate for a connection and friendship that he'll take don callis of all people?

if we want to dig more into my personal observations, kip has never felt as respected or perceived as he did/does when hes across the ring from oc. this feud was the highlight of his career since the comeback (and arguably, his [and miros] feud with the best friends ending with arcade anarchy was the other, so these two have always been connected more or less), its the one thing people keep talking about in reference to him apart from the box; how he should have been the one taking the title from him, how kip should have been elevated from that point forward too. how people talk about him almost only when he has faced oc in the ring afterwards (which has been at least three times if i recall right from the top of my head) or had a chance to challenge again for that title before oc lost it entirely

so what is the conclusion i wanna draw from this? kip keeps bringing him up. he keeps on leeching on him. he wants that attention off of oc, but also from oc. and what better way to do that than to now befriend him, show him support, be there for him when everyone else has abandoned him?

except its not entirely malicious. it might start as such, but its definitely mutually beneficial, more so than intended; sure maybe kip takes the chance to get to oc when hes down and vulnerable, but theres also that high chance that he'll see he can actually help. kip can help pull oc back up and help rebuild him. kip can be useful and important in this equation too, not just oc (which.. its gonna show kips true colors tbh. considering how kip treats oc as a whole, but he was taking trents side earlier about everything when best friends broke apart so...)

i think this is enough of me rambling, so im gonna get to the point of the ask lmao; but yeah, while i'd love for chuck to come back, i dont think he needs to be the one to uncorrupt oc from under kips spell. cause there wont be a spell to begin with. while yes it might start more or less as a corrupting relationship if they got to tag together with oc, i dont think ultimately it would be harmful to him. just like kip would be there to be supportive of oc, eventually he would return the favor by helping kip flourish, like he has done more indirectly in the past. they are mutually beneficial to one another, for better or worse maybe, but its not going to lead oc down a dark path in my opinion. if anything, oc is uncorruptable at this point (especially without the belt but i feel like that story has completely died by now with roddy holding the title so im not going to touch that rn), and him getting love and support from someone genuine, although surprising in this case, it would just make him more likely to return that favor than to turn against it. what i mean is, oc would be the one to uncorrupt kip, if anything

thank you for coming to my tedtalk and im soooooo sorry for all of this

#thank you for asking! <3 #princessxpunk #again im sorry this is SO LONG but i have so many thoughts and feelings and shit to say #and you did ask so....#oops. lmao #box thoughts #wrestling musing #you know what fuck it im tagging it im proud of this lmao #orange cassidy #kip sabian #my beloved #sweet little clementine #kip in a box #orangekip #wrestling

19 notes · View notes

mouseratz · 10 months

Text

silent Hill 2 thoughts (please no spoilers I just got to an important part with maria/around 3f of the Brookhaven hospital):

- this is a very fun game similar to the first entry and already has a stronger story than game one.

- it is, however, far more sexual/has sexual overtones, so like, don't play this one on a big screen around kids. not that most people do with horror games anyway, but I was a kid who grew up watching horror movies and my family play other horror games (like some of the resident evils) and this would've been too much for me. I think it serves a narrative purpose though & is presented really weirdly/interestingly so this isn't a criticism, just like, if you haven't played it, now you know.

- PS3 version is far buggier than the PS1 silent Hill one, which I find funny, but whatever, I'm gonna play the one I've got, you know. (I've also heard this was due to a lot of development shenanigans, including the studio they had revising the game losing the original build of the PS2 version, but man, it doesn't just look a little worse, this game has crashed on me like twice lmao.)

- the graphics aren't terrible, they certainly don't look better than the PS2 version but are at least comparable.....but even then, neither really match up to the stunning quality of the first game. It still has a lovely and creepy atmosphere, but very genuinely, I can see too much. I don't actually want to see the character's facial expressions, as uncanny as they may be- there was something eerie and charming about the PS1 blurred, smushed-up faces, sharp angles, and dark corners of the world.

- the soundtrack however IS an improvement, building on what works while delivering it through not-ps1 hardware, the haunting melodies and tense ambiences are better than ever.

- most of what I have bad to say about it are simply visual preference or complaints about the specific version I have (the PS3 version also just has shitty load times overall, like traversing the world literally feels like it takes longer in this one than the PS1 game. wtf)

- I do have at least one story nitpick though: I don't care what you have to say about all of the characters being flawed/morally grey, the only fat character (Eddie) being associated with food and emetophobia related horrors is fucked up. he's also depicted as fairly stupid & incurious, in addition to being the star of the few unironically "comedic" moments I've encountered in the game so far. this hardly ruins the game by any stretch but it is something I don't like about it.

- I also ......really like most of the enemy designs but they aren't as scary to me. Idk if it's because I just got used to the design sensibilities of this series or because I can see them better/another visual preference or because they're just not as scary so far. idk. Pyramid head guy IS scary, but not because of how he looks- he may as well be a horny cosplayer from a series I've never heard of. I could see this guy on tiktok. I'm sorry. what's scary about him is the way he moves and how differently he behaves from the other monsters, and how he always seems to be either lurking behind you or one step ahead of you. he kind of just looks like a guy in a funny outfit to me.....maybe it's just because we live in the age of internet horror & this game was likely inspirational to many people, so I'm just kind of, already "oh okay" about seeing that type of guy....

-i don't want anyone to take away "oh mouse HATES silent Hill 2" nooo Im still loving it Im just having a different experience than with the first one. if anything, this game is more compelling story wise AND more player friendly (other than the bugs....but I assume the PS2 original lacks most of whats gone on here). I just really like crunchy and obtuse visuals and I'm coping with the loss of them. why can I see James's face. This is a crime

#silent hill

2 notes · View notes

cyclonesyndicate · 2 years

Text

When the light is running low || Trial 6.1 || NULL || RE: Princesa, Niflheim, Beowulf, Tala

Cody's glad to see all the seats at the table filled (even Tony's, in a way) but this whole thing still has him feeling somewhat stressed. After all, given what they've found, he doesn't feel that the end of this trial will come as easily as the previous ones-- if anything, he's more concerned by what it'll all mean.

Haruka and Carter get right into shouting their thoughts first. Though he isn't as enthused by their choice of words, Cody will silently admit that they are both at least somewhat right. ...Silently. He's too stubborn to say it out loud...

Instead, he picks up on a few of the points brought up so far.

"Tempest was the one who founded Cyclone though, right? According to the journal entries we found, they were trying to keep the meteor away from the heroes. I don't remember if there was anything mentioning the 'why's of it, but if they were keepin' it under such a tight lockdown, my guess is they wanted to keep it away from... Well, anyone, probably-- heroes n' villains alike, but... Hm."

The gears turn a little in his head before he frowns with a huff.

"I'm... I'm wondering if the meteor's got some kinda hold over people when they're close to it for too long or something-- like, makes you want it, and think only you can wield it. Like the, uhhh, ring or whatever from that book with the Hobbit guys."

Lord of the Rings, but close enough. Cody's started gesturing a bit as his theorizing becomes more animated.

"Like, maybe that's why Tempest wanted to keep it away from the heroes, or maybe why they murked 'TOM'. Maybe that guy was thinkin' of using it, but got too wrapped up in the 'unga bunga I'm hero I'm the good guy meteor only for ME' thing that he was ready to fuck over regular-ass people in the process. Villain or not, I know I sure as shit woulda done the same thing as Tempest if that's what happened."

"And like-- it'd also explain why the journal author started going off about 'eradicating evil' and saying they were the one who had to 'take control and see if any of them were worthy', and then stepping back and lookin' at their own off-the-shits writing like 'whoa, what the fuck, gettaloadathisguy'. It..."

"It's like... An anglerfish, or a bug zapper. Just keeps pulling you in, closer and closer, with power or knowledge or whatever it can get you to want from it, until..."

A chill runs down Cody's spine as he recalls his deep dive into the meteor room's computer, and how the deeper he went, the longer he stayed, it felt like he was fragmenting down to bits of unrecognizable code. No longer someone, or something.

"Until it gets you. Until you're stuck."

He shudders, again, at the thought of vision they received from the meteor shard. At the thought of what became of Dr. Delphine Sainte-Martine.

"Until you end up like The Herald."

#null #submission #ch 6

0 notes

fortunatelyhauntedblackcherry · 4 years

Text

Moonshine - A Beetlejuice Fanfiction 09

Warning: swearing (as always), BJ being horny, fire hazard.

The next day was monday, and every monday night since the girls moved together years ago was movienight. They prepared dinner together, bought a shitton of snacks, sat down on the floor in the living room and watched at least 2 movies. Most of the time they fell asleep during the third one.

So they were all in their kitchen, which had pretty peach-colored walls, a big window framed by curtains with various embroidered wildflowers on them, and olive green / beige french country-style kitchen furniture. Rei was making guacamole - which Sirius made quite a hard activity with all the jumping and whining for a piece of chips or basically anything delicious - while Sofía was talking about her business dinner from last night and Ari was sitting on the countertop, in the middle of the kitchen, eating Nutella out of a jar with a skull-shaped spoon. Minerva was laying beside her on her back, playing with a piece of breadcrust, getting occasional earscratchies.

- So I was like "No go amigo, I couldn't possibly share an exhibition with them" and my manager was like "why?" and I was like "because I'd have to be talkative and cute with them and man I couldn't" and he was like "but they are respected artists in the community" and I was like "yeah but they can't even use photoshop MICHAEL how could I work with people who are sooo past century"? - said Sofía, flipped her hair and took a sip out of her lemonade. - So yeah, he arranged the whole thing and now my coworkers for the next couple exhibitions will be not so known, but rising photographers instead of old people, isn't that awesome? - all of a sudden Minerva lifted her head up, pricked her ears and started to hiss in the entrance's direction.

Beetlejuice just arrived after his hunt for bugs in the winter garden. He was leaning against the entrance archway, and shaked his head in disappointment.

- I can't believe that you still hate me this much, you waste of fur. - the cat hissed harder. - What?!? Two can play this game, if you're not nice, I won't be either! - he pointed at Sirius, who let out one bark, then continued harassing Rei. - Look, even the dog got kinda used to me!

- I wonder what her problem is. - said Sofía while Ari pulled the kitty into her embrace.

- That's the point where you should tell them that "yeah she sees my demon buddy, yeah, we have a spectre, and I can hear him!" - said Beetlejuice in a girlish voice while he stepped closer to Ari. The girl stroked the slightly hissing Minerva, who was now laying on her lap. Ari licked her Nutella-covered spoon clean. Beetlejuice stopped in his movement and his jaw slightly dropped. He started to drool a bit. - Hooooly shit babes, it seems like you know how to turn my software into a hardware!

Ari blushed a bit and tried really hard not to giggle so she started to talk.

- ANYWAY... - that was way louder than she intended, so she cleared her throat - ...what did you do last night, Rei? - knowing exactly what happened to her poor sister (since after she got better, Beetlejuice told her everything), she was just curious if she would talk about the posession of her computer. Rei's ginger hair flew over her face as she turned to Ari and put the guacamole down to the countertop.

- Well you could say I was practicing poetry, since Robert Lewis Stevenson insisted that wine is bottled poetry, but to be honest after streaming I was just drinking and wondering what I wanted to be when I grew up... I'm sure it wasn't an anxiety ridden bitch disgusted by people with a wine problem, serving exactly those whom I disgusted by, but... - she put her hands up in the air - ...here I am! - she giggled as she turned to the fridge.

- So I suppose your "fans" were mean again? - asked Sof. Rei took some cheese out of the fridge, and scoffed while giving a piece to the very excited Sirius.

- Not mean, fuckin nasty. - she shut the fridge and rubbed the bridge of her nose under her glasses. - I mean, some of them spammed my IG DMs with requests of "please send me the bra you wore during today's stream, I saw the strap and I'm hooked", like... Ugh.

- Can't judge a man for wanting some lingerie from a pretty girl, that's my opinion. - said Beetlejuice while he hopped on the counter next to Rei.

- Jesus fuck people are weird... - commented Ari as she got off of the middle countertop. Minerva ran away to upstairs.

- Oh so that's the socially acceptable opinion now? Okay wait... - Beetlejuice cleared his throat and continued in a sarcastic manner, heavily gesturing while doing so. - OH YES PEOPLE ARE AWFUL UGH DISGUSTING EW HOW COULD SOMEONE ASK ANYTHING LIKE THAT EWEWEW. - his voice went back to normal as he looked at Ari, who just hugged Rei. - Was it good and totally believable? - Ari smiled and gave him a thumbs up behind her sister's back. - God I'm good! On the other hand, did I tell you that when I walked into Rei's room yesterday, I almost tripped on a bra? You could say... - he floated next to Ari's ear. The girl could feel his icy breath on her earlobe. - ...it was a booby trap. - Ari shut her eyes and bit her lower lip while smiling widely. - SERIOUSLY HOW ARE YOU NOT LAUGHING YOUR PRETTY ROUND ASS OFF, THAT WAS PHENOMENAL!!! - Ari let Rei go and went to one of the cupboards. Rei poured herself a glass of red wine.

- I don't even know why I'm getting upset by these kinds of shits anymore. I've been doing this job for years, I should be used to creeps. - she shrugged. - Eh, whatever, it felt nice to vent.

- And we're here to listen every time! - shouted Ari, head inside one of the lower cupboards, fistbumping the air. After some rummaging, she lifted her head out. - Hey guys, where did we put the ultimate bathbomb?

- What? - asked Sofía with a tilted head.

- The toaster. Obviously. - BJ slapped his knees as he started laughing.

- Gee, doll, that was good! Your humor is getting worse and worse under my influence and I'm living for it! - he scratched his head. - Wait, is that appropriate for me to say? Or should I say I'm dying for it? Since I'm dead? - he shrugged his shoulders. - I dunno both sound good.

After Sof got the machine out of one of the highest cupboards, Ari started making grilled cheese sandwiches. Beetlejuice floated right next to her and flashed a pretty evil, toothy grin. He wriggled his fingers while looking up at the ceiling lamp, which started to flicker. The girls quickly looked at each other but didn't say a thing. BJ giggled. Ari stuck the toaster's plug into the power outlet, which instantly made it sparkle. One of the sparkles fell on Ari's hand. She quickly got it away with a quiet "ouch", and looked at where Beetlejuice's very uproarious laugh came from. The angry face she made almost made the demon tear up.

- What? You thought I'd never mess with ya, doll? After seeing this face, I'll do it even more often, you angry little toddler you... - and with that, the lights flickered again.

- Am I hallucinating or did ya see that too? - asked Sofi, pointing at the lamp.

- Maybe it's just bad wiring... - said Rei, with a rather nervous chuckle. She didn't sound believable at all. - It's nothing to worry about...

- Oh so you think I'm nothing to worry about?! - said Beetlejuice with annoyement in his voice. - You underestimate me, little one. - he pointed at the chandelier in the living room and the lamp in the kitchen. They both started to shine and flicker in the same rhythm. The girls looked at each other.

- I'm pretty sure that's not bad wiring... I think... - one of the light bulbs in the living room shattered, stopping Ari for a moment. They all ducked as the light bulb in the kitchen exploded. - I THINK THIS HOUSE REALLY IS HAUNTED!!!

- THANK YOU! FINALLY! - shouted Beetlejuice, his eyes and his neon green hair glowing. - I'M FINALLY GETTING THE RECOGNITION I DESERVE!

- IT'S NOT, GHOSTS ARE NOT REAL! - shouted Rei, while trying to help Ari get hold of the angrily barking Sirius.

- It's scientifically proven that they are... - commented Sof.

- Shut up, I'm not superstitious like you two! I mean sure, weird things are happening in the house, like my PC acting strange, or the hairdryer sucking Sofi's hair in, but I'm sure there's a logical explanation!

Beetlejuice grinned like a maniac.

- Oh baby you really want logical explanation? You think there's any logic to ME? Then watch... This! - the demon cracked his fingers and chuckled as he looked at the plugged in toaster. Ari looked at the voice's direction and gasped when she saw what Beetlejuice was doing. The toaster's heating wires were glowing red hot, and an awful stench came from the machine. The smell of burning plastic.

- OH FUCKIN HELL!!!

- Who doesn't like a bit of electrical fire? - said Beetlejuice, laughing, looking at the infurious Sof. Ari quickly jumped up and started to go through the drawers quickly. Sof was quicker, she handed her the oven mittens, which Ari put her hands into and lifted the now flaming toaster.

- Okay... Now what? - Rei jumped up in panic too.

- What what?!?

- Where do I put it?!

- ARIADNÉ, YOU JUST LIFTED THIS FLAMING SHIT UP WITHOUT A PLAN?!?!?!?!

- I'M NOT A VERY BRIGHT WOMAN, OKAY?!?!?!? - Rei opened up the window and pulled the curtains back.

- THROW IT OUT!!! - Ari quickly threw the machine out of the window, into the birdbath that was under it. The flames started to fade and the girls let out a huge, relieved breath.

- Welp... I may sound like a hypocrite but... After this I think we're haunted. - Sofía and Ari both looked at Rei.

- You said, literally a minute ago, and I quote, that you are not superstitious like us two. - Rei threw her hands up in the air.

- I'm not superstitious! But I'm a... Umm a little bit stitious.

- Do you seriously think this is a right time for Office quotes? - asked Sof, with folded hands and an eyeroll.

- Hey this is how I cope! Toasters don't start spitting flames normally, man! That shit scared the living Hell out of me!

Ari bit her lower lip. A faint idea crossed her mind.

- Ummm... I think we should ask our presence what do they want. - the girls and Beetlejuice both looked at Ari with lifted eyebrows. - Sof, don't you have an Ouija board? We could ask them stuff and maybe help them out. So they won't cause trouble like this again. - Beetlejuice covered his smiling mouth with his hands.

- OHMYGOD BABES THAT'S A GREAT IDEA! I never tried playing with those things but...

- Okay let's do it. - stated Rei decidedly. - Sofía! Get your Ouija board. We're adjourning movienight. Let's ask this bitch what the everliving fuck is their problem!

#alex brightman #beetlegeuse #beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice oc #beetlejuice the musical #fanfic #fanfiction #lawrence beetlejuice shoggoth #musical!beetlejuice #beetlejuice broadway

7 notes · View notes

useless12sstuff · 4 years

Text

Short stories #3

. 3 Above and Beyond

Trudging through the woods, I try to place the majority of my weight on my makeshift cane. Squinting my eyes, I try to keep sight of my path. The moon is of barely any help. If I had known it would be dark I would've snuck out a torch. Pulling my coat tighter around myself and wishing, not for the first time, that I should've worn something warmer above my hospital gown. I buried my nose in my scarf and yet, the crisp air still burned down my lungs. If my cigarettes don't kill me first, the cold certainly will. 'You shouldn't be here', the guilty part of my brain whispered. I squashed that thought down just like the leaves under my feet. Silly Linda, I scoff. She thought she could keep me in the ward by locking the door. Well look now, I jumped out the window. Well the pangs in my leg are almost making me regret. Almost. Oh whatever. To hell with Linda and her false pretenses. She can act sweet and coy all she likes but I know she wants me dead. Not more than I do but it is a mutual sentiment that is reciprocated. She's far too young anyway. A bit naive and very gullible. Very overconfident too but she is under the assumption that she's being 'smart' and 'sharp' and that an old, miserable midget like me won't be able to see right through her. An absolute fool. I despise it here.

I hobble my way to my usual spot, a clearing somewhere in the middle of the woods. The crescent moon stares down at me, as if judging. Sitting down on a tree stump while catching my breath, I pull out a pack of cigarettes that Linda missed and a lighter from my coat pocket. A cold draft rushed and rustled the trees and I held my coat tighter, shivering badly. With numb hands I light a cigarette and hold the lighter close, the tiny flame giving me a semblance of warmth. Sigh. I wouldn't want the fluid to run out. I pocketed it, closed my eyes and enjoyed my cigarette. Deep inhale and then exhale. Inhale and exhale. Finally, some peace and quiet….

…. Which did not last longer than twenty minutes. A sharp, whip like crack sobered me up and I opened my eyes to a terrifying sight. A creature with four faces, more than a hundred wings, taller than the trees, so huge that I can't distinguish the sky from its body. The moon is nowhere in sight. His whole body consists of uncountable eyes and tongues. What on God's green earth is this!? I can't move. Why am I not moving? Its hellish eyes stared me down. The cigarette I was holding had long fallen. I am a stone, glued to one place. I can't tear my eyes off this- this creature. All too soon, it descends and shifts into a shape more recognizable. A man. Dressed in a pure white robe, inky hair curled in every direction, skin the color of rich soil and piercing charcoal eyes, this man would stand out among any crowd. I must be hallucinating. Are cigarettes supposed to make you hallucinate?

"What kind of alien are you?" I asked in a quivering voice.

The man blinked. Then blinked again. Then stared at me long enough to make me wish I hadn't spoken.

"What kind do you think I am?" he smoothly replies, evading my question.

"A shape-shifting one."

He folds his hands neatly behind his back and doesn't reply.

"And who would you introduce yourself as?" he asks. I have a distinct feeling that he's humouring me. Like a cat who caught a canary.

"I, well, I-uhm-I fancy myself a student." I stuttered out. He doesn't need to know where I am from.

"A student of?"

"Life."

The alien smirked. An uncomfortable silence surrounds us, uncomfortable for me atleast. I feel weaker. Sweat beads at my eyebrows. This alien's presence has a weight that is taking a toll on me.

With nothing to do, I whip out another cigarette. I finished smoking it. Then I pull out a second, then a third, then a fourth.

"How long have you been smoking?" the alien asks suddenly.

"A few decades." I say, lighting another cigarette. A hush falls again.

"How do you speak our language?" I inquired, anything to keep the oppressive silence at bay.

"I've been here before."

"Oh?" I ask, hoping for an elaboration.

"Yes."

None came.

"What is it like?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Your planet. What is it like?"

"It is a human's dream come true. You can have whatever your heart desires. Food, clothing, land, companions. It is eternal peace-"

"Sounds like heaven." I interrupted.

The alien's lips quirked.

"Something of that sort. It can be very beautiful or very terrible depending on the person."

"Why so?"

"Would you wish for good things to happen to evil people?"

"No. Not at all."

"My point exactly."

"What is evil anyway? Is evil caused by a difficult life?You know, I've always wondered."

The alien calmly looks back at me.

"Have you had a sorrowful life?" he asks, a curious gleam in his eyes.

"Sorrowful?" I scoff. "I can barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore. A saying goes 'Let a man walk the halls of sorrow. Whatever comes out, can it be called a man anymore?' " I asked.

"Sorrow is either growth or wasted potential if you have not learned. Power on the other hand, man cannot be trusted with power. It is too corrupting." the alien argues.

"I'll have to politely disagree. Power in itself is not corrupt. Power attracts those who are corruptible. Those who took the wrong lessons from their sorrows."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You have become a cynic only because you felt your life was difficult. Your cigarette is proof enough. It kills you, yet, you stick to it. Doesn't that make you just like them?"

"You are not a human. You don't, and maybe, will never, understand the delicate intricacy of addiction. I am not defending myself. I am ashamed but leaving it is no easy task."

The alien hummed," If you believe so. You are quite a melancholic person." he says, matter of fact.

"So I've been told." I smiled self deprecatingly, "Look at me, debating about ideologies with an alien."

The alien smirked, as if he was in on a joke I wasn't. Strange.

I cleared my throat. It felt itchy. Must've been the cigarettes.

"Anyway,how does your planet deal with 'evil' people."

"You need not worry your head over it. Our, ah, justice system is very fair."

"Oh. Where is it located? Your planet that is."

"Not here. It is somewhere above all the galaxies."

That most certainly piqued my interest. I have wished for death on my worst days but on my best days, I've always been a curious bug, too curious for my own good. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Why are you here?" I finally cave in to my curiosity.

The alien side eyes me and replies, "I'm here to take one person home with me. Forever."

A thrill raced up my spine and anticipation settled in my bones. I licked my frozen, chapped lips. Perhaps I am being selfish. I spent my entire life looking for an escape, an escape from everything, my depression, my poverty, my disease, that hospital and its disinfectant smelling wards, Linda, this wretched world. That is an artist's curse. Escapism, they say, is an art too and I am anything but unacquainted to art. I always wondered about what was beyond, a place where no man had stepped. The golden threads of time, weaved into the fine fabric of the universe, permitted this opportunity to occur in front of me. I will take it even if my hands bleed.

I have no family that left, nobody who loves me. I'm bitter and alone. I deserve to be selfish for once in my life. To take a big leap, a risk. Yes, I will.

"Take me with you." I begged. "Please."

"Why should I?" the alien replied, staring right in my soul.

"You came for me. I know. If you didn't you wouldn't have landed here." I say, hopefully.

"And if I say that is false? What else would you offer?“

"I can offer you beauty and art. I can create for you."

"We have many of those."

"There will ever only be one like me. Just like there is only one artist like them. Themselves only."

Silence enveloped us again while rejection stung my chest again.

"Allow me to prove myself." I plead.

The alien looked at me, questioning.

"Look in my mind, see all that there is." I say determinedly. And I let him in my mind, let him see the world through my eyes and feel what I felt. I let him see my arts, my music, my poetry, my paintings that I crafted lovingly with my aged hands. I let him see what a human sees, something I know that he had never witnessed. Then I revealed my sorrows. Hopefully humanity would appeal to it.

With a pull he left my head. My eyes burned and I felt a blood vessel burst. I dry heaved on the dead ground but the nausea still lingered. I am glad I was seated or my knees would've buckled and I would've been an undignified heap on the floor. All the while the alien just stared and stared. I am getting sick of his staring too.

Once again, I broke the silence.

"I will paint your skies," I continue, hesitantly, "and your buildings and walls. I will write for the children and even for the old. Just please, take me. I'm exhausted ."

My eyes burned again, unshed tears waiting for release. I avert my eyes and let out a sigh. I feel heavy and my shoulders slump. Unexplainable exhaustion overcomes me and my temperature keeps rising, beads of sweat rolling down my face.

"If," he began,then stopped. It was the first time in our entire conversation that I saw him hesitate.

"If," he continued, "if I were to ask you to scream your wish at me, what would you fear more; your echo or my answer? “

"My echo", I reply instantaneously.

"Why?"

"Because it would mean you have declined."

"Hmm. Recite a poem for me."

I gave a shaky, hopeful smiled and offered him my words:

My river by the oak tree

has turned molten gold again,

as the glowing orb of light and life surrenders to the sapphire sky.

The cotton clouds float in shy, pink circles

While the rush of the river awakens a memory I had long forgotten,

When this same tree once bore luscious flowers,

Their scent wafting lazily into the cool breeze,

While I sat and reminisced about the possibility of other lives in the universe,

Under the wrinkled, silver moon.

Silence hugged us again while the impact of my weakened voice lingered in the air.

"Do you believe in other lives? Aliens and such?" he questioned.

"Yes I do, I mean you are here so that confirms it too."

"You are a funny one. No one has ever mistaken me for an alien." it grinned, crooked, as if a gesture it wasn't familiar with.

My body went cold and tremors shook it to its feeble core, my breath coming out in shallow pants. My eyes shut down of their own accord. The entity then spoke with a voice that might have held the weight of a thousand suns,

"Beyond the stars we go."

1 note · View note

lil-birch · 5 years

Text

004 - Yes, I was in Washington; NO, I was not on "vacation".

Ew. You know when you look at a word for a long time and it starts to sound and look radically different in your head? Yeah, that just happened to me with "vacation". Yikes.

ANYways

I'm in the ACE van on the way back to AZ and I've managed to leave my journal inside my work bag, so consider this blog entry to be a direct deposit of my thoughts processing one of the best/worst month-long experiences of my life (if this were in a pie chart, I'd say like... 80% best/20% worst (and considering the bad parts are meant to be learned from anyways, really only like 10% bad)). Besides, how bad can life be when it's being lived in an ethereal paradise? Rejoice! Rejoice even when sh*t is whack!

One of the best things? The view of the meadow halfway through the hike up:

Let's start with the schedule of this hitch:

6 am - wake up call. gentle sun trickling through the ponderosa pines to lift the eyelids. honey-nut-oat cereal with blueberry kefir and green tea is a must.

7 am - depart camp for Blue Lake trail.

7:30 am - begin Safety Circle, which is the crew's time to review what is important for us and the climbers around us. we then ask our Question of the Day (QOTD) as we stretch, which can vary from describing the person to your left as a dinner or releasing a cathartic screech that signifies your mating call. Very fun stuff to get the ol' Positive Mental Attitude (PMA) warmed up.

7:45 - 8 am - depart trailhead for Climbing Access Reroute worksite.

9 am - arrive at worksite. the fun begins.

The central focus for this month-long hitch was to utilize dry masonry practices by building staircases into pre-existing trail to reduce erosion, social trails, and thus allow natural biodiversity to flourish since the soil and hikers aren't trampling all over them.

(Staircase #1 w/ Anna & Staircase #2 w/ Connor)

I built two staircases with my crewmates and did some digging/retaining wall work with two other staircases. The key with building staircases is to gain a ton of height in the trail, as well as provide an easy surface for water to run over vs. the water running over the plain soil. So, we set taller steps with pinners (side rocks to hold steps in place with the power of ROCK!!!) until the staircase extends through the entire section of trail. Voíla! A functional staircase that will, deadass, last 100-200 years. Regardless of whether humankind destroys the Earth in the next 20-30 years or we get smacked by a meteor or whatever... that's still pretty neat. Generations of climbers will be able to use these trails! Even the mountain goats used our staircases!

(Yes, that is only a boulder, not a staircase. BUT SO! CUTE!)

So yes. Real-life Tetris™️, with pickmattocks to dig and double jacks to SMASH ROCK and heaving boulders around in rock nets and then breaking them into pieces with a drill. Siiiiiiiiick.

And the off-days... Olympic National Park!!!!! Seattle! Twisp! (I felt very creative in Twisp. It's really smol and snug.) Bellingham! Forks, the vampire capital of the United States! Wow! There's so much to explore in this state and we only broke the surface.

To be completely honest, there was more mental exploration than physical. Posts 002 & 003 centered more around specific themes I've been writing about in my journal as pertaining to my life, but in a general sense, I think I needed this hitch to regain my Self. Now that I'm in an environment where I'm contantly physically active, eating more nutritious foods, consistently meditating and practicing yoga, and being challenged to push my limits, it's a little unsettling to look back over the past year and see how unhealthy I was. Mental illness and all that aside, I continously put the needs of school, work, and extracurriculars ahead of nourishing my body and soul. As much as I do miss college (see also: my friends and my professors and theatre and the radio), I don't particularly miss the toxic environment surrounding academia.

Its been particularly difficult trying to find peace with that unhealthy behavior. With any of it, really. I'm finding that while digging through my experiences, the guilt of how I *should have* done something or how I *handled something with very little tact or was just an abnormally evil goblin* in a situation gets overwhelming. Past me isolated myself away from a lot of people because I wanted to stop being a burden, or felt I was annoying them, or just couldn't handle the aforementioned guilt. How do you come to terms with the fact that for such a long time, you felt like a completely different person because, deep down, you were so unhealthy and unhappy?

Cultivation is a great way to start.

This is a word I overused hecka in my spring senior research capstone (thanks, plant communication!) but it's such an apt descriptor. Like, my brain, body, and soul might have been overgrown with weeds and mold and weird bugs but I'll be damned if I can't get back in there, yank those suckers out, and start a whole new garden that's ready to flourish. I've got wood chips and a fire lit under my ass. It's time to recultivate these neglected spaces, to create a new way of living that actually feels how living is supposed to. I'm tired of the past preventing me from this new era of flourishing.

The best part about cultivation is that all you need to start it is yourself. This is also the hardest part, considering that if you don't particularly like yourself it's a bit harder to get started. But one day, you'll wake up and agree with the inner calm deep inside your head that something needs to change. That day is exuberant; I wish and hope that everyone experiences it.

Here's to sunshine and self-discovery.

🌞🌿

#createandcultivate #gratitude #intention #north cascades #mountains #self love #self reflection #conservation #treat yourself with gentle love #special thank you to:#BROCKHAMPTON #hadestown #above and beyond

3 notes · View notes

whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

Text

I hear two Atlanta Police Officers with missing vehicles called the Mayor and apologized to her for thinking of only themselves, admitted they were afraid that if they were in the same situation they would been fired as the other two in the Rayshard Brooks case and they couldn't allow that to happen to,themselves and the community so they wanted to show what would happen if it did because like me they all saw it as a justified homocide, a honorable weapon's discharge.

But after reading what i wrote last night. They fully regrret their decision and would like to have a meeting with her today, the entire 25 that stayed home for 3 days and they will all drive up to see her, in their personal cars of course.

Of course they got her mussing her mascara and all. Weeping she is. Don't mean she's weak. Just means she knows love. And she knows how evil attacks it and makes love so painful.

... ...

I mean I'm real surprised at Atlanta. I never had any problems with them they was always "The Next New Orleans" i called them.

Always just witchy with it. Good and a skip ahead.

So besides my anger at the situation created...

Look. I come straight outta the 90s.

Back then... Man. Our history been lost in 30 years. Our soul soul soul filled history. Its gone. It ain't there.

Back in the 90s we had about a 15 year break. From the protests from Vietnam War. Love not War Protests. We had them nice little 1950s with "Hello Technology: introduction to the TV" ONWARD to the "60s Hippies. Make love not War" taking it right onto the 70s which came back with the Civil Rights

So our 90s. Y'all they were the most beautiful. They were the combo of the 60s and 70s.

The riots and protests being taught to me and we made it big as we could with all the best parts of being a Human Rights Activist with brand new only 1990s fluorescent neon dripped could bring in.

That was all lost. Its all gone.

But the fight. The rights. THE TRUTH we went all 1950s and stayed in and raised our kids right. People wanna say shit about the Millennials. But we spoke truth. We spoke from our heart and we let them find,the truth as safe as possible and form their own opinions based on truth alone.

So now people wanna beat our kids. People i went to high school with they got high school graduates. Mine will be 17 this August. Real honest to God birthday and age.

Those are my babies. Our babies. They are our future. In 50 years they're gonna be like old man Bernie Sanders. 70 years old bent over fighting because we're gonna be near dead at 90 and more.

And people neglect and beat and ...

Man Our kids got it bad enough already. Simply because THEY KNOW THE TRUTH.

And man we got to protect them. Protect their hearts. Their minds. Their souls.

And they getting allllllll this stress. Put on them. Stress that is simply avoided.

By one dancing in the streets.

By 15 officers stating their badge numbers.

By the police owning up to who they are and why they exist.

Don't they want peace? Used to be they were called Peace Keeping Officers.

Now they called Lice Officers. Coming in on Native American Reservations claiming unwashed hair bread bugs. Let me tell you something. My daughter and I got lice a while back.. Like 8 years. The only thing that killed them was coating our hair in oil

Lice breath through holes in their exobody. So the oil makes them suffocate to death and die. Furthermore people whom smoke reject lice more frequently than those that don't. It takes me 3 months longer to get lice than a non smoker.

Peace pipe anyone?

So historically police aren't loved. They aren't wanted.

Being a police or military. It becomes a color of our skin. I'll post a tattoo that isn't finished being colored or lined. It's not done. I'll show you we can balance it.

Get out of your comfort zone. Step out of your skin.

We can't stop being black. We can't stop being what drives us to be police.

But we can control it.

"BURN ALL THEIR FUCKING CARS" demanded the international head of the CIA.

"No ma'am. This is what we did" they didn't tell me No before. They just did it. Because they knew it was better. They knew it would cause all 25 of y'all to have to stand up and say "my car is missing. This is how i feel. I do/don't want it back"

Where yall can't pretend what y'all did didn't matter and just get up and go to work the next day. All sneak in and get back to business.

No. You got a fucking problem. You forcing others to take on your load, Zone 5.

Were not walking away and being all its fine what ever. You got a problem. We need to tackle it in a for real state.

Foooorrrrr Reeeaaaalllll state.

You got a problem in your mind? Those become tangible. They aren't floating thoughts. They are what makes us do what we do.

Make it concrete. Take away their cars.

I ain't saying the charges will be dropped. That's all a whole other issue. I don't work in the justice system. Court. Law. I tell you how to win in court. But i ain't about telling some DA how to shove it. I just sue them. When its courts. I fight their game. With paperwork and all that shit. So like i said that's not on me to say the charges will be dropped.

When it's a basketball game you use a ball and circle to drop the ball in.

Use proper tools

Atlanta PD could and should said "alright let's picket the DA. Lets go in uniform. Leave our weapons in the car. Unbutton our shirts. Put red paint on our foreheads to show where they're hurting us. Show them the DA now made us defense less and stripped"

Half hour. 10 minutes. 2 hours. Don't matter. As long as you make that statement.

NYPD did that.

Sure i can ask Tree, tree why ain't you posted that? Taught them?

But why didn't NYPD pull out thier hands and say NBC, FOX. Where's them videos of what we use to do and so we can stop and make this shit right in the streets?

Thata all i did. That's all im doing now. Yeah I'm,the most brilliant and all

But the last since November i been telling y'all "shake them tail feathers"

How is Gary Trump's brother going into human trafficking for 24 years to be found by me. Then murdered by his brother that took his name and lied about who he was? And his brother didn't care. He said "ill go by Gary. It don't matter. Hes worked hard under my name"

How is the ACTUAL Donald Trump not allowed to be in a Black Lives Matter movement? How come no one is shaking their tail feathers to a man killed by the government for greed and white power?

The faux Donald Trump that is our impeached President is a racist.

So why isn't his brother being named? Black Lives Matter.

One person says "Let's Shake Our Tail Feathers".

Dont matter if you believe me. Its the movement. Quite literally.

Its confusing and alive and can make us all sick. It is its own plague. "Shake ya tail feathers" it's a mental plague if you refuse truth.

Regardless how i named it. I still taught it and spoke it. And led y'all to dance it.

Bye bye stress. Bye bye human trafficking.

Bye bye inequality.

Instead it's crazy

It was already planned to be crazy. Burning down buildings calling them Liberty Torches.

Civil Rights . Civil Liberties . take No Justice/Fairness and make it a sight to behold.

Is it fair to me financially to burn down my own economicially profiting legally businesses to make a Park and Garden where you can get fresh and,free vegetables and fruit for life? HELL FUCKING NO.

I got to pay security and taxes and i don't get a single domestic dime in return.

Kids go play on my slides and swings and wear them out having too much dam fun. Then i gotta spend More Money to make sure i am making sure they even get a single second to know what fun is.

I spent my whole life working. Every dam day.

One day I went out and I was 18 years old and i heard laughter. And i didn't know what it was. What made people laugh? How could people even be happy? Or want to laugh?

I was 18 years old. Didn't under stand a human thing.

And it just kept going and going and going. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to do whatever it took. And I didn't know why. Because i got my car keys out and opened my car door the second time that day. This time to make it stop. I put my car key between my fingers. Next thing i knew, I was sitting back down. And starting the car. Obviously my mom knew I was crazy with worry. And lost my mind. Shoved my ass back in the car and said "no you're just gonna leave and leave those innocent people alone"

I was so angry and bitter. And now my life is even worse.

If I couldn't attack them people. No one else can attack innocent people in public.

I don't care how fucked up you are. YOU CAN'T ATTACK SOMEONE FOR THEIR FREEDOMS.

Laughter. Black Lives Matter. Blue lives MATTER. All lives MATTER.

Some ignorant fool was arguing with a store clerk saying how her Black Lives Matter sign offended him

Watch me, #BLM #BLM ONE OF THOSE IS BLACK. ONE OF THOSE IS BLUE. TOGETHER WE ARE BRUISED BLACK AND BLUE.

Why can't y'all see and accept that?

We can't we be one. One truth.

One life to live

I can't live as Cleopatra or anyone of my past lives. I can't even live the life I led in the 90s. I can't even walk

We have one life to live and this is it.

So do we kill each other? Or do we protect each other?

Why aren't we being One?

When you're alone you can think of only you. You realize how important you are. We all need alone time.

When im with you i can only think about how important you are.

There isn't enough room in my brain to say how important we both are at the same time unless we do and think and act the same way all day long. Even for twins and clones its impossible.

So in my brain and in yours. You can only think about how much ONE life matters at a time.

ONLY ONE LIFE IN THIS WORLD MATTERS. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!

We. Our. Us. You can't stop a great combination.

Power and love = unified. Unity. United.

Watch me, #BLM #BLM ONE OF THOSE IS BLACK. ONE OF THOSE IS BLUE. TOGETHER WE ARE BRUISED BLACK AND BLUE.

Stop the pain. Hold our hands. Let the love flow. Let the Heart speak until it sings.

So yesterday old Blackfeet and Regina didn't see each other for the DUMBEST thing. She said "oh baby ill move in the nursing home with you"

He says something all "nonsense that's dumb shut up" all Grumpy Bear.

I don't even want to be with you.

So i talked to Michael about their unique situation.

He could had said "I'm well enough to move into a regular home with you. We don't need the nursing home. I moved to (US state) to be with you. To be close to you because you mean more to Me than Anything in the world. And you deserve a big ole castle. Because i love you and we gotta do all this best and right. No nursing home. We got another 50 years plus i wanna be doing you on the kitchen table and not here. All I can smell is stinky old man diapers from the neighbor"

And she could said had he continued the fight "oh idk what I'm saying I've never even seen the nursing home. Do you mind i come visit you there? Id really like that"

It would taken ONE. Only one to stop their ninny war.

And they would been holding each other. With love.

Instead of living in Hell.

So, now what happened was we put it all on old dad. Because hes the Black Beethoven who can suddenly sing a ballad of symphony in the midst of telling some real bad history truth.

Then moments later Regina said "well i could said something different, too".

It takes two to tango.

So I challenge y'all to punch inequality in the face. BLM. there is no difference between.

Black. Blue. Red. Purple. Yellow. Green. All bruises.

Challenge each other. Black and blue.

Force it. There is no difference and it must be seen.

Chant it. Turn on the "Boombox" and dance together. Dance if some won't. But do it in their face.

Laugh. Be happy. In their face.

If they're bitter like an 18 year old me and don't have a Angel Mommy to bust their ass back down into a sitting position. Someone will beat the shit out of them. Someone will stop them and i Will go after them and send you services for legal and medical. Free.

Acknowledge.

You are hurt. I am hurt.

Lets Live. Lets be happy.

Lets try. Trying makes perfect.

"MOVE BACK"

"TAKE THAT FIRST STEP"

"MOVE BACK"

"SEE WE ARE HURT SAME AS YOU" point out the ones that have fear. The ones that try to intimidate. -- The I Can See You -- let them scream in your face youre nothing but a piece of shit. And yell back they're someone inside a police uniform. And you can see it.

Beat their asses like fucking Care Bears.

Teach you a little photography. 1. Dirty lens. Dry skin. 2. Lotions the skin. Hannibal lectur. 3. Cleans the lens. 4 & 5 close up with flash. 6&7 close up without flash.

After meeting some kids in college. Native Americans from tribes near Gallup. Very very. Very Racist.

I began to question my life long believe of how I could live with being a military based person. And being an Native American.

I didn't know. I just knew i could and it wasn't fair to me to destroy the very being of me. Simply because it don't make sense without actual factual historical documents.

Remember Oregon Trail was First. That made Atlas.

Then down the coast to find gold. So NM DONT KNOW SHIT ABOUT NO FUCKING TRAIL OF TEARS SO GET OUT MY FACE.

And so my owl... Its every thing. I didn't design it normal. It has wings that are out stretched yes.

But it has a secomd pair of wings. Which are pins from the United States Coast Guard. Those wings are like hands. To do things close by to the body.

Its slightly designed after a Hindu God. She has 6 arms.

Here the wings are keeping the body warm and safe and sound.

How could myself own an owl to represent my secret past of S.Leigh if it can't have hands to represent both my heart and mind?

There figlirliee on the head. That's not for me. Its because I think about you. The mass population of Earth.

I need more simply than what the Earth can provide in the reality of which exists on Earth.

There's an hour glass of water on it's side, traveling... My baby bird is flying with an hour glass.

If you look. You'll see a woman under and between the two shields. And she has "duck lips"

For the real "Not Gary Donald Trump"

Her lips are actually a heart. But they look off..

A rose each sits above the shields. A diamond in the midst of the tail feathers.

No piece

No area.

Is just a feather. A stroke of color.

Each is an item. There's no nothing. It is all something

The military did not just beat us and we took it as Muscogee Creek Nation. We built an Atlas. Recivejed the City of Atlantis -- the Spain sent supplies to help us for years. All the way from Florida.

There was Something. It all wasn't nothing

Or for nothing. Everyone looks for the truth. Looks for the Lost City of Atlantis and i am the one who sunk it. Because I am the Goddess.

The diamond has a purple eye. Diamonds are the hardest and toughest known substance.

Well i know my mind is gonna cut you and rip you apart from what I've seen. So my eyes are like diamonds. My mind

Our tounges are diamonds. We can slash each other apart.

Or we can acknowledge the riches we have.

My Ultimate Challenge is for the police to create a barricade when necessary. No weapons in hand. Hands on the top of their heads and chant BLM Bruises are the same.

We know black bruises hurt the worst, the same level as red.

Then purple. Then blue. Green and yellow rarely do.

So please fight blindness and inequality with me.

And please post it on the national news and international news. So that we know as a world we all fight together

Whether it's in the couches or in the streets.

Thank you for trying.

0 notes

trulyowenfree · 5 years

Text

Why Norwood Fisher might think I'm the Devil!

Well, after that random roadside run-in with Johnny Knoxville (see my last blog entry), you can bet I was ready and gunning! With game stickers in hand, and the tie-straps of my backpack (it's an old olive-green canvas military one) halfway undone, so I could get into it quick. Even though it's not what I expected when I went to LA, or certainly not what I went there for, serendipitously meeting one mega-celebrity had me vow silently to myself...that the next one wasn't gonna get away so easily. After such a huge 'defeat' I decided very firmly, that if I ran into any more celebrities on that tour, like Sean Penn, Josh Brolin, or even Crispin Glover...then I was gonna make darn sure that I at least got a book into their hand. And hopefully even tell them something about my TV and Movie ideas. Though of course...I also really didn't think any of that kinda stuff was gonna happen again. Not to goofy old me anyway. But, if you are a True Fighter like I am, then every defeat you get handed is only an excuse to fight harder, and so that's exactly what I did. I hit those sweet old LA streets the very next day! Right back out there, trying to make my own Luck! And I even put that lucky Devil Pin on my hat (the one I found on the train down from Seattle) to see me safely through the city. This time I caught the train out to Santa Monica, and planted stickers all around the college. Then I hit the library and handed out some more fliers until the cops started looking my way, and you can say whatever you want about the folks in Los Angeles, but most of them are at least half-friendly. I mean, nobody threw the fliers back at me or anything, but no one really seemed like they cared a whole bunch either, and I even found a few of them cast down onto the ground around the corner, like brightly colored leaves that had just fallen off the Give-a-Damn Tree. So of course I picked them up, because nobody likes a litter bug...and they also have a link to my website, right there on the front. Next I rented another scooter and cruised down the beach-path through Venice, and on to Marina Del Rey, where boy-oh-boy do they got boats! My skull and crossbones stickers didn't look out of place at all either. Not there among all the sailboats and mega-yachts. Like any minute now a group of Real Pirates might shamble down the sidewalk and invite me out to lunch or something. Or maybe even rum, but I only drink coffee now.

I stopped off at the library there too, and people seemed very responsive when I told them about my books and handed them a flier. People who live on boats tend to be a literate lot, since cruising often has a bunch of down time to it, and books don't eat up your batteries. So a well stocked library is a fine addition to any good vessel, and especially books about pirates and treasure, or even just a few short sea tales, or traveling to another country. After Marina Del Rey I headed back to Venice, and my dear readers...I have to tell you...that place is kind of a Heartbreak now. It used to be one of the most magical parts of the Los Angeles metro area, or am I wrong? More than many other places in the City of Angels...Venice will make you feel like any second you might become famous. Like any given moment you and Roller Skate Guitar Guy might end up on the big screen, or that some big producer might spot you loitering by old Muscle Beach and ask you to be in their film. And the Boardwalk... But now...in late 2018...the whole neighborhood smells like some kinda' thrown-away-dirty-hippie-super-polluted-gutter-punk-Hemp-Fest; with two-block long piles of garbage, and super depressing homeless encampments in almost every alley. Even all along the main sidewalk at the beach, like nobody cares at all anymore, or like The Desolation has just gotten so far out of hand now, that there just is no way to ever catch up again. Like there really never was a way to take care of everyone, and we are all on our own now. Welcome to Hell. And don't get me wrong either, I'm not against Marijuana legalization or even Weed itself, but when it's all you can smell all day, and there are kids and families around, but so many crowds of heavily unwashed people (who are obviously the ones smoking it, right out in the open)...well...it just doesn't have the attraction it used to for me. Which is totally fine actually. I've been meaning to quit anyway, and the outside thought that it might lead me (back) to a life on the streets someday...is a clear and easy deterrent. Nobody wants to be a smelly old street bum. No matter how high or drunk you get all day. But I was just being dramatic above. Ganja by itself will probably never force a person out into a life of blatherskite level homelessness, but it's still a good idea to be careful. I bought myself a new hat from one of the vendor booths along the main drag. A distressed-looking ball cap with the big brown bear from the California flag riding an even bigger bright green surfboard. Then I went to find myself something decent to eat, away from all the smells and commotion. Which wasn't as hard as I am making it sound really, because Venice, California is still one of the hippest, coolest, and most interestingly flavorful places on the planet, so I ducked into one of the many colorfully decorated breezeways off the main boardwalk and found a cute little one-of-a-kind coffee shop to get a sandwich from. Two fried eggs on good wheat toast, with broccoli sprouts and feta cheese...and yes oh yes I poured a whole bunch of hot-sauce on there too. Then, what was shaping up to be a super-fine day turned into an even brighter one, because when I stepped back out into the courtyard a long thin and lovely Mocha-skinned lady was sitting at one of the tables underneath a brightly colored canvas umbrella, and she smiled really wide and toothily at me when I looked her way, so I walked right over and sat down next to her. I guess I must have looked like Mr. Confidence about the whole thing too, because she even cleared all her papers and books over to one side of the table, just so I could put my plate, cup, and backpack down. But, if you've ever read anything else I write, then you know darn well I was actually coaching myself through each and every played-out moment, like: “Oh man, you're doing good, Free...don't screw it up. Just keep your cool and do not let her know how fine she really is. Holy crap! Look at those...cheekbones. Ah ha ha ha!!” (Look, I'm really only asking your opinion here, but do you guys think it means a person is clinically crazy...if they laugh out loud at their own jokes---but only inside their own head...a lot? OK...maybe even all the time. Well? Huh? Does it? Wha'd'ya think? And...what about if it echoes?)

Her name was Nadia and she said she lived over in Inglewood, but liked to come out to the beach to visit her mother in her condo. She reminded me of a dancer as we talked, with quick graceful movements of her long lovely hands, and an evil-sweet toothy smile that could melt the paint right off a gas pump from fifty yards away. Nadia smelled like some kind of bright purple flower too, so I leaned in close as we spoke, just to breathe in as much of her as I could. And she didn't seem to mind at all. “So what brings you out here to LA? You come down to try some of this Cali bud? Shit'll knock you right out if you ain't careful...” “No honey, I'm visiting from Colorado, and we have all the Weed you could ever ask for. It's like going to Baskin Robbins or something; 33 flavors in every store. I'm actually out here on a book tour, to promote my new Treasure Hunt Game. I write coffee-table adventure books, and if you solve the puzzles inside...you could be the first to find my Hidden Pirate treasure.” I took out a copy of the first book, and I even had a couple copies of Three Short See Tails with me too, so I laid them out on the table for her to look through, while I bragged about myself some more. But don't be trying to judge me for it either. You would have pulled all the stops out for this girl too. I mean it y'all...she was fine! And the sizzling hot idea of me scoring even one of her Cappuccino kisses made it seem like the whole rather uphill tour might just pay off after all. Yes! “So you're a real shipwreck treasure hunter? Wow! Man, my horoscope even said I was gonna meet somebody interesting today, but I didn't know it was gonna be someone like you. This must be our lucky day.” The way Nadia looked at me right then, with just a bit of flush to her cheeks, and dilated auburn eyes, let me know she really meant what she said, so I took her beautiful brown hand and moved myself even closer, suddenly feeling a whole lot warmer in the cool December air. “I actually have to get going right now, Babe. I'm out here today doing a bunch street-level promo work for my website, and I want to cover as much ground as possible before dark. Sunset comes kinda early this time of year, though not nearly quite as bad as up in the mountains, but I want to try and hit the gym before dinner too. Do you think maybe we could meet up later? If you're not busy...” “I actually am busy tonight.” As she picked up my phone and started typing her number into it. “I have my kids this evening, but we could go out tomorrow night if you are still around. I'd love to show you all the local sights.” She gave me another one of those smolderingly fantastic LA Woman looks, and let it linger even longer just to punctuate her last sentence, so my dumb old heart fell right into it. Pounding so loudly now at the thought of what 'sights' she might have been exactly referring to, that I was totally sure sweet Nadia might even hear it. So I gathered up all my things as calmly as I could and excused myself quickly, before I fumbled and failed, but then made sure to steal a kiss from her velvety fragrant cheek as I walked away. Just in case it was all a dream. Out on the sand again, I ran into a regular looking middle-aged guy running an expensive looking metal detector back and forth across the golden cinnamon sand. We met over by the graffiti walls, near Old Muscle Beach. I stopped him to talk, and he was very friendly, especially when I told him about what I was out there doing, and that I was a detectorist too.

“Yeah, I actually live up there in Ventura, but we come down here on the weekends and do really well sometimes. One weekend me and my partners found six-thousand dollars worth of jewelry. Not too bad for only the cost of a tank of gas! But I sure would like to get down there to Florida some day though. I bet I could really clean up.” I asked him (I think his name was Jonah) if it was OK for me to put a picture of him on my blog, and he said it was no problem at all, so here you go sir, and Good Luck: Next I stopped by the book-store in Venice, to try and consign my work, but the buyer wasn't in so I made my way over to the Santa Monica Pier, sticking my skull-and-crossbones Treasure Hunt stickers everywhere I went in between. On the backs of signs, on light-posts, dumpsters, newspaper stands, and especially onto any pieces of graffiti I really liked. Though of course one has to wonder at the possible efficacy of a sticker-marketing campaign...in a place so very sticker-polluted as Venice. Like everybody who has access to a printer and a pack of label-paper tried to leave their mark at one time or another, but at least I'm not the only one. Santa Monica was totally crowded that day too, since it was a Saturday. Just imagine a half-crushed case of sardines thrown down into a trash compactor, then getting squashed by some gigantic falling boulder. I mean it. We could barely move! And then a box of canned peas and carrots showed up on the very next train. So it was packed! I put up with it long enough to fight my way out to the end of the pier. And I was lucky enough to spot a long silver sea-lion playing around in the foam while waiting around for a fish. The ocean was green and cool-looking, with long strands of red-blue Kelp undulating around the barnacle crusted pilings, and the sounds of carnival rides and screaming children hung in the air like diurnal sonic fireflies. If there even is such a thing.

And it sure is funny how the dank and briny smell of the sea goes so perfectly well with the savory floating scent of hot dogs, popcorn and cotton candy. Sorta like mermaids and pirates holding hands. They're not even of the same World really at all, but still somehow just seem naturally made for one another. The sun was getting low in the sky by that time, so I walked into the shopping district on the bluff, to go get some weight-lifting in before dark. I'm not a beef-head or anything either, in case you were wondering, or a gym-nut, health-freak, or even all that into the whole thing really, but I started going to the gym last winter (in Colorado) to keep from falling asleep when the sun went down (at 4pm), and fell totally in love with what a half-hour-a-day on the weights does for my overall energy levels. Plus I have a few deep nagging joint-injuries, from being a construction worker most of my life, and whatever beneficial chemical it is that weight-lifting releases into my body...does absolute wonders for all that stuff too. So yes, I highly recommend it, and especially after you work at a physically demanding job all day. Because then you get the real benefit. Going to the gym, or running, biking, surfing, or even playing sports after you bust your hump outside all day...is like putting the icing...on a steak. Plus, higher-end public gyms generally have really nice showers and saunas in them too, so I walked out of there feeling like a Movie Star or something. Ready to take on the World...again!

The cool evening air felt amazing on my clean and freshly-worked body, while the wafting smells of food and cigars decorated the Santa Monica streets, and I was breathing it all in deeply. I stopped at a food vendor across the street in the park on the high bluff (forgot the name), then leaned on the cement balcony and watched the lights out on the pier as I devoured three more very heavenly tacos. I walked toward the train feeling very satisfied, and was just about to call up Nadia to make the whole day complete, when I looked to my left and noticed a couple walking leisurely beside me, which seemed out of place in the Saturday evening bustle. The man turned towards me a bit so I could see his face better, and I couldn't believe it! It was Norwood Fisher; the bass player and founding member of Fishbone!! “Excuse me sir, is your name Norwood?” “Yeah, that's me.” He replied with a wry little smile. His date was a cute and tiny surfer chick, with shiny blue eyes and a bob-style haircut. She seemed especially amused that her date was getting recognized, so they stopped right there in the middle of the sidewalk, just to talk to me. I immediately pulled up my shirt-sleeve, to show him my Fishbone fore-arm-tattoo, and told him “My name is Truly Owen Free, and I've been a Fishbone Soldier (it's what they call their fans) for a really long time now. We've actually met before. A couple times, and in different towns around the country...but I'm sure you meet a lot of people....” “Well alright! That's very cool man! What you up to this evening?” “Oh I'm just out walking the city and promoting these books I've been trying to write.” As I reached for my trusty backpack. “Would you mind if I gave you one? I think you'll like it.” I handed him a sticker too, then pulled out a copy of How I Became a Real Pirate, and he took that graciously too, but I have to go ahead and tell on myself again, when I say that I was making another mistake right there. And it was because of that stupid Starstruck thing again. Norwood Fisher is one of the most down-to-Earth Rock Stars you could ever want to meet, but for some stupid reason I was getting nervous while I talked to him. I guess part of it is I feel weird for treating someone special, but I was also interrupting his date. It was all inside me though. I was the only one having a problem. If I had been paying better attention I would have realized he was ready to have a real conversation, and was genuinely interested in what I had to say, but of course I assumed otherwise, and I really can't tell you why. But I did manage to spit out, “Yeah, I'm on a multi-city promo tour for my two new books. I'm riding the trains around the country and trying to generate some sales. Grass roots style! Street level.” “Well that's the way we do it!”, as he turned the book over a couple times, to check out the cover. The copy I gave him was the older out-of-print version too (see my Amazon account); with the black cover and only the skull and crossbones on the front, and the somewhat-sinister sub-title that only comes with the full-length novel. And I don't know if it was the very piratical cover that spooked him, or if he was picking up on my nervous vibe, but when Norwood looked up again...he gave me a cock-eyed taken-aback guard-dog look, like he wasn't too sure about me now. Like he had noticed something new about me, which he hadn't seen before, so maybe now he better put his guard up. And of course that just made me even more nervous, so I said “Thank you Norwood. Hope you enjoy it, and there's links to my site inside. You guys have a good night.”, then walked away quickly, before I made it worse. I walked backwards through the crowd, away from the train (?!), so I could cross the street and not seem like I was following them. But then when I started walking up the opposite side, I looked over...and they were walking parallel to me across the busy street. Norwood just happened to look my way at the same time too, and we even met eyes...so now it looked even more awkward! Like I was stalking them, and trying not to look like it! Celebrities are so weird. Of course I called my friend Terrence back in Tarpon City, just as soon as I was on the train. He's the only other person I know who is as big of a Fishbone fan as I am, so I just had to let him in on the story. “Are you serious? And you met him in LA?! Oh man, you are out there living life, my brother Truly! I wish I could be out there with you. And you say you even gave him one of your books? That is amazing. I bet he's gonna like it.” “Yeah Terrence, I can barely believe it just happened, and I was there. I totally screwed it up though. He was being really cool, and I think he even wanted to keep talking, but then I made him nervous or something. And I totally gave him the wrong book too. I gave him a copy of the pirate one, but should have totally given him Three Short See Tails. It even has Fishbone glyphs in it, from my tattoo, but I got all nervous again. I'm such a Starstruck little kook!” “Ahhh, don't be so hard on yourself buddy. At least you're out there trying, and it sounds like luck is on your side, if you ask me. Maybe you'll run into him again, or even somebody else. So you should just keep right on doing what you're doing. But hey listen I gotta run. I'm at work right now, and somebody might have a heart attack if I don't pay attention to these monitors, so let me get back to you later. Good to hear from you, bro. Keep on truckin'!”

But you know I still beat myself up, all the back to my vacation rental, which was really just a bunk in a tiny bedroom...with four other people in it. Not even a hostel really. Just some guys house he was paying off by running an Air-BnB mill. Pretty good trick really, and you would probably meet all kinds of people. Hmmm... I got back to the room about eight, and was feeling so low I decided to call it an early one. I put my bag in a locker and was just about to hang my hat up when I noticed the shiny red Devil Pin winking at me in the lamplight. “Oh! That's probably what freaked him out! Norwood saw the black sinister book cover, and the devil pin...and thought I was The Devil himself or something. Especially with my weird old name, and especially here in LA. 'Cuz I'm sure The Devil has a house around here somewhere. Probably a few...” Fishbone has some pretty strong ties to the Gospel community, and are known to be mostly good and spiritual people too, so maybe Norwood thought I was some kinda evil weirdo trying to get at him. Or at least that's the best I could figure. And that really sucked. What another major fail! Just trying to do something good, but I ended up freaking out someone I wanted to get closer to. Dammit! I vowed right then and there...to go to the very next Fishbone show and explain myself. But if you are an adventurer too, then maybe you should check out my armchair treasure hunt. Bet you can't crack the code. Copyright 2020 Truly Owen Free. All rights reserved. Read the full article

0 notes