Tag Archives: daniel

Oh, S.

I was young. Much younger, but in a way I was a much older than I was today. It wasn’t as though I had gotten dumber, but more so that I am able to see things with a fresh set of eyes. What do I see? Perhaps the error of my ways, as though I were a fickle harlot of a woman that want able to discern a good thing when it rested in my lap. But you know what, it didn’t kill us. In many ways we’re different people now, and are closer than we’ve ever been. Or spirit’s still have the same flavor, but i’m wrapped with flashier colors and with features that entice children at first glance. It’s nothing to make a big deal about because it’s what’s inside that counts. Better yet, it’s the symbolism of whatever it is inside and the way it makes us blossom at the wink of an eye that counts. I should have been better to you, that’s a given now, but is it really something to stop the world from spinning to melt with me over? You were always the strong one and deep down, I’m just someone you wanted to wear matching crowns with. Beneath the crowns, the ornaments, we’re two blinking lights in the midnight sky. Well, I’m the wayward ship. If you throw a tantrum, or if I do, we’ll just feel dumb about it later and do it all over again anyway. Let’s face it, babooshka, we want to be with one another. We ache for that feeling for only we can grant it to one another. Money, isn’t as necessary as I used to believe it was. What was really necessary, what was truly important and what was majestically magical, was the fact that we were, are and will always be the two parts to that single heartbeat. The most harmonized notes I’ve ever felt played. Even seen! Whatever you want to do, do it. I’m always going to be right behind you. But if you’re going to be with me, and we sort of wasn’t this to work- things are going to have to start changing. And ease up on the riddles, fancypants, I haven’t even touched my morning coffee yet. No more secrets. You know what I mean. And no more scarring the shit out of me, blockhead. Well, I know you like to keep me surprised, but ease up on me! I’m trying to keep up with you of all the assholes on this planet. But before I forget, I love you. I’ll be holding your hand and looking into your loving blue eyes as soon as I can scrounge up enough change for a ticket, but if you really can’t wait… Well, c’est la vie… Right? I was really looking forward to kicking ass with your connections, I’m being honest, but I know you’re a busy body, so go do what you gotta do! ūüôā you know where I’ll be. Sorry it took me so long, but you know how I shit question marks and snack on twinkies with innuendo fillings like there’s no tomorrow.

‚ÄĚI’ll do loss of things for love, but I won’t do that.‚ÄĚ Rather, can’t. You’ll physicality have to marionette my muscles to do it. I’m not as ruthless as I used to be. (I.e. lessons learned. Well, I delegated my authority anywho but who’s keeping score?)

P.s. I’m out in the elements because I don’t even want to knock on my roommate’s door. Ily, jerkface.

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and we don’t care about the young folks, talkin’ ’bout the young style

One day I wanted Coco Puffs, the next, Apple Jacks. I was eight or nine, and this was a prelude into my future as an indecisive assface. At that age, an identity crisis happened as often as I saw my dentist and what kid would know how big of an impact either of those would be? Puffs or Jacks, I was lactose intolerant anyway, but c’est la vie.

The best way to cope and make sense of it now was to take the guise of the jester. Lighten the load of the heavy stuff. Showing you were conscious of the matter at hand, even mocking it, shows you know something. That something you know, regardless, allowed you to look like you felt less shittier than everyone else. I knew what that something was, I always did, never told a soul, cause I’d look less cool if I let you have my cigarette.

Maybe I didn’t know how to tell it. I didn’t know all the words in the language to convey it or shit, would you take a vague analogy instead? I’m better at those, but they’d seem like a joke in itself, got room for comic relief while you’re in a pit of despair? Of course you do. It’s one of the most important roles in the movie, and you’re not going to audition. Everyone was Don Lockwood, but not me, I was everyone’s Cosmo Brown. I was good at it.

I’d never feel comfortable as Don Lockwood, and I couldn’t be both. Cosmo Brown would never be allowed to sing in the rain because of Kathy Seldon. The things that make us happy; you can have that and it’s fleeting nature. (Sometimes, I think Cosmo should have gotten Kathy, but can you imagine how history would’ve turned out if the ginger won the girl?! Once was a good movie, but I couldn’t exactly believe it’s not butter. Worse, what if Cosmo was an oriental, Jackie Chan bloopers during Make Em’ Laugh.)

Fuck, I’m going off on a tangent now. Are we agreed the multiple identity crisis I braved in my youth has affected me? Good back to the weird Singing in the Rain¬†analogy.

I’ll goad my syllabus further in defense of my bigotry in stating I hate all races equally, ¬†indiscriminately. Happy face. I’m even surprised sometimes when someone reminds me (they remind¬†me) of what my race is supposed to be. Identity crisis can start here.

Tell me one good reason why it’s important to classify one by their race, and I’ll tell you why the human race is my favorite joke. Smoking cigarettes and smoking barrels, mama Earth’s got a smoker’s cough; going green and choosing the diet of a bunny ain’t gon’ cure her cancer. We are the cancer. Sad face.

I think Dracula would make a great candidate as Surgeon General. Remake the¬†Karate Kid¬†and¬†Singing in the Rain¬†with Jackie Chan.¬†And Daniel Day-Lewis would bring back the spirit of the World Wrestling Federation, make the people believe again. Alright, I’ll go to bed.

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Jack Kurtilick Holds Rare Maltese Anfibidorian Hostage

“…and some things in life hint to the fact everyone was meant to unequivocally suffer in due time. We all feel liberated by the sight of the ocean, though we can not live in it. We die, then return to whence we came. I may drink like a bastard now, but I’d like to call it training! How old are you? 18, 19? Breathing underwater seemed a bit more advantageous in opposition of knowing how to swim,” then Jack looked at me, sharpening his once roundish eyes,”are you sure you don’t want a drink, Daniel?”
“I’m alright, thanks.”
“There’s no shame in it, provided your laxed provisionally minimal, adherent regards towards Christian propaganda.” said Jack, pouring himself another scotch, straight. I paused for a moment because I had absolutely no idea what this drunk fucker was talking about. After gathering what was left of my mind, I understood his power; he spoke in jargon, like a doctor. No person has any fucking idea what the doctor is talking about, but the way they spoke allowed you to nod your head, accept, and receive a terminal death sentence. That’s how Jack spoke, though it could also be the half empty bottle of scotch on his end-table.
“I’m really just here for, Eleanor. The Maltese Anfibidoria or whatever the thing is called… the, ‘FISH,'” I gestured quotations with my fingers, “means a great deal to her.” I couldn’t look Jack in his eyes. I mean, I’d want to kill me too, if my ex-girlfriend sent a younger, adept replacement to retrieve a prized, rare fish at our old apartment. I, then, glanced up as a fluke due to the absence of a response and locked onto his eyes, and to my surprise, only saw the eyes of an man misplaced from another world. Donning the eyes of, what seemed like, a passionate player who’d lost a chess match. Defeated by a kid with beginner’s luck. Hand on his glass, he peered closer. Then withdrew. Then spoke.
“The ‘FISH,’ is in the back, Danny boy.” Jack said a he pointed towards another end of the apartment.
After a moment, I spoke. “Thanks, Jack.” I started what must have seemed like the most awkward exit. As I was about to round the corner, Jack spoke.
“Daniel,” I turned and faced him, “little Danny Smolensk knows where to go, if he were to change his mind about that drink right?”
“Yeah… Danny S. knows.” I nodded and gave a half-assed non-military salute, about faced. I hadn’t known at the time that I would never see Jack again. He was to vanish on a fishing excursion. Jack really wasn’t a bad guy. I liked him.

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