There Are No Christmas Miracles

I haven't really spoken about it to many people, those of you who don't know its probably because I just hate the look people give me when they respond. I hate the fact that this had to happen of all times, on Christmas day. I guess I should go back and explain myself. My brother, John Caynon Junior died at 11:40 on Christmas night. He died alone in a San Antonio nursing home while still in a coma. The call came just before midnight. I think even when the phone was ringing I knew it was trouble.

I think that my brother and I were close, because we had a lot of fun together, even when we argued or fought. He was one of the strongest people I know, he's been to Iraq, he's been shot (not while there) and he's been through alot. He was a hard worker and he really did care but he hated to show it. He liked to make people laugh and laugh and it showed when you really got to know him.

I think I needed some time to sort all of this out in my head. I think that at first the shock was so much that I just kept going at normal pace. I kept running through everything doing what I could, being the person I've been for a long time now. I was already upset with Christmas, I feel like this year has just been, well the worst year ever. Even when my mom died that year still didn't seem like anything else bad happened. But this year I have lost friends, lost a brother, right now I have a friend who might be dying in a hospital bed of cancer, things keep getting worse and worse and I am just trying to look for the light at the end of the tunnel.

I don't try to remain positive, that's not me, I don't work well when people are too hopeful and positive, I'm the kind of person God made to offset that. My oldest brother is gone and I'm so shocked...I still felt like he was here even when he was in the coma. My good friend Meina is in the hospital and her courage and positive attitude should be a reminder to us all what someone can do if they have the will.

But in the back of my mind, I think I know now that all the movies were wrong, miracles don't happen on Christmas. Christmas is just another day of the year...its nothing special to anyone up in Heaven or down in Hell just because we slapped a day on some calender. Real miracles happen everyday, you just have to look for them. Maybe the miracle was John getting to see Mom again, not sure really. But I guess I know he's at peace and he knows how much we all love him. In Meina's case, we can still hope for a miracle, she can still come home.

But I guess, as they say, that's all in God's hands.

I'm A Fake

Intro to "I'm a fake" by the Used

Small, simple, safe price.

Rise the wake and carry me with all of my regrets.

This is not a small cut that scabs, and dries, and flakes, and heals.

And I am not afraid to die;

I’m not afraid to bleed and fuck and fight,

I want the pain of payment.

What’s left, but a section of pygmy sized cuts.

Much like a slew of a thousand unwanted fucks.

Would you be my little cut?

Would you be my thousand fucks?

And make mark leaving space for the guilt to be liquid.

To fill and spill over and under my thoughts.

My sad, sorry, selfish cy out to the cutter.

I’m cutting trying to picture your black, broken heart.

Love is not like anything.

Especially a fucking knife.

Even If It Kills Me

I’ve got a lotta things to do tonight


I’m so sick of making lists


Of things I’ll never finish


I’ve lived here for the last 12 years


Since early 1995 all my shit has been in boxes


But if I had a little more time to kill


I’d settle every little stupid thing


Yeah you’d think that I would



But I’m too tired to go to sleep tonight


And I’m too weak to follow dreams tonight


For the first time in a long time I can say


That I want to try to get better and


Overcome each moment


In my own way



I wonder if I’ll ever lose my mind



I tried hard for awhile


But then I kind of gave up


Winter is killer when the sun goes down


I’m really not as stubborn as I seem


Said the knuckle to the concrete


But I’m too tired to go to sleep tonight



And I’m too weak to follow dreams tonight



For the first time in a long time I can say


That I want to try to get better and


Overcome each moment


In my own way



I’m not saying that I’m giving up


I’m just trying not to think


As much as I used to


Cause never is a lonely little messed up word


Maybe I’ll get it right some day


For the first time in a long time I can say


That I want to try


I feel helpless for the most part


But I’m learning to open my eyes


And the sad truth of the matter is


I’ll never get over it


But I’m gonna try


To get better and overcome each moment


In my own way




I sure want to get back on track


And I’ll do whatever it takes


Even if it kills me

PC

So this story starts out with this strange need for me to play Metal Gear Solid for the Game Cube, I found out the game stop near my house had it and when I went to pick it up they IDed me, whats more is the guy who worked there has known me for like, ten years. He even knew it was me coming to get it. Now more recently he's taken to looking like Grizzly Adams, but that's besides the point.

I ask him what's with the new policy and if they had some trouble out of kids buying games when they're underaged. For those who don't know, games much like music and movies have a rating system, the ratings are fuzzy at times because so many of them seem unnecessary. But the system has been in place since the early nineties and has to be on any game sold in the United States after then.

The game I brought was rated, M for Mature. When I asked the guy behind the counter he said that they had to check every ID and he went on to say that it was because since Hilary Clinton was running for office she was stepping up her campaign against the gaming industry. Not sure if any of you really thought about what I just said there. But take this to heart, if this is the case and you must ID for mature video games, that means video games are more dangerous than fucking cigarettes. That means they're more dangerous than alcohol, both of which kill countless people a year.

I mean how stupid does that sound? Or is it just me. The gaming industry has caught a lot of shit for being too unpoliced. More often than not its the parents who should catch shit for it. The government shouldn't have to tell a store what to sell me, a grown person. We're not talking about air port check points, this is a video game store. What's worse is I don't see it getting any better for anything. There's talk of making any movie with smoking rated R.

That would mean your kids couldn't pick up a copy of 101 Dalmatians because Davile, in the movie, smokes. Political Correctness is a virus that's infected this world and is drowning us.

Identification Verification

It seemed that as far as Dee was concerned a little exposure went a long way, she needed to stay out of the overly watchful eye of others. She had a certain knack for attracting the attention of people who she really didn’t want seeing her.

Tonight was a rainy, the overcast clouds seemed to dip down and scrap across the tops of the buildings even. On the roof of this hospital Dee could stand under the large decorative cover and be just out of the rain. The wind still passed under and whipped through her hair every once in a while.

The dark curls swayed and bounced and hit her in the face some of the time as she just stood and smoked her cigarette. The Angel of Death had little to worry about as far as lung cancer was concerned, but she still took some comfort in smoking, the smell more than the feeling it brought her.

She polished off a long thin cigarette to the point where the rain had pretty much ended its run and let it fly from the rooftop with a sigh. As she reached for the next one she felt her cell phone ring, she slipped the Bluetooth ear piece on under her hair and then answered, “Go ahead.”

The voice on the other end was chipper, a young girl with a British Accent, “Yeah I thought you said that they had good food in this city…”

“They do Madeleine,” Dee said softly, “You just have to know where to look.”

Madeleine’s voice on the other end of the phone seemed louder suddenly, “But it seems to all be Mexican,” she paused, “I don’t like Mexican.”

“Have you tried Soul Food?” Dee asked.

“What’s that?”

“For a person who doesn’t have to actually eat since they’re not even alive you’re picky as Hell,” Dee quipped.

“You’re picky about those damned cigarettes of yours and you don’t even have to breathe…” Madeleine retorted.

Dee nodded, “Alright, you win this one,” she fumbled for a cigarette now that she had been reminded, “But let’s just try and go out and get something together, I can be back there in a few minutes…”

“I’m starved, just bloody teleport here!” Madeleine said.

“I would but I’m not that far along yet.”

“How much of your power would you say has returned?” now she could hear Madeleine tapping on a table or something.

“I would have hoped it’d be about twenty five to forty percent,” Dee sighed, “But it feels more like about ten…”

“But considering your rank and the amount of power you have, you’re still going to be strong.”

Dee sighed again, “Its just that I miss some things…”

Madeleine laughed, “Don’t worry, you’ll be back soon enough,” she paused, “Think I’m going to watch something on the telly, hurry and get back.”

Dee smiled, “Alright, Maddy,” the phone clicked as she hung up and just as she was reaching for the ear piece there was a flash of lightening and then an impact. Something hit her hard in the middle knocking her into the air and through the large covered atrium of the hospital. Her body flipped and she lost the Bluetooth in the night.

Rain pelted her as she rolled through the air and instinctively she opened her huge white wings and brought herself into a dive to pick up speed before swooping back up. She searched around the skies for the culprit of the hit, she’d seen a form only briefly before being the impact.

Off in the distance she heard a strange voice, “You should have expected this, bitch!” the voice sounded almost like two voices at once.

Dee made back and flew straight for him, her arms out at her sides, “What kind of person just flies into someone like that?”

There was a bout of laugher, “Why I do of course!”

Dee slammed into him from the side and as she did she was met with force on her end. The two of them tumbled down through the rain rolling about in the air. As she took her punches at him her fists burned red hot with flames, one of the other descriptions she had as the Angel of Death was the Angel of Fire and Destruction. She could control most fire with just a thought, Pyrokenesis.

Her opponent didn’t seem phased from what she could see, he kept on swinging back, one of them landed square in her eye and she winced, they were hard hits for a regular Angel or Demon to be doing.

The two of them were nearing the ground and when Dee looked back the other creature kicked off of her knocking her down into the top of a small fast food joint, she landed back first laying there, her opponent landed standing over her, she could see now that it was the tall lanky man she’d come across earlier.

He smiled down at her as he put a hang around her neck, his coat was open and his chest was vacant of any other kind of covering. There was a large tattoo covering most of his chest, “This is disappointing,” he said, “The new Angel of Death…I hope you're better in bed than you fight, then maybe you could at least give me something to leave here with...”

Dee’s hand went down to the gun at her side, she kept it more often for confrontations with Humans but it would buy her some time here, “If you want me so bad come take me…” she opened fire hitting him in the face, neck and chest several times. He loosened up and she got her feet back and kicked him up off of her.

The lanky man flew back up into the sky, his wings were black she could tell now, judging by the tattoo and the wings she could tell who she was dealing with, “One of Satan’s Elite Guard? Hm you’re not my type anyway.”

He was writhing in pain, clawing at his wounds, “You insolent whore, what’ve you done to me?”

“The bullets are iron and have a hollow Holy Water tip,” Dee said, “They’d kill a bottom feeder demon, but for big shots like you I’d just expect there to be a little stinging.”

“Hm, it would seem you are prepared…” he said.

“Yeah and if you want to wait around I’ll have half of Heaven down here to kick the shit out of you for breaking the treaty…” she paused for a moment to remember the exact line, “Those in Satan’s Elite guard are strictly prohibited from attacking any member of the six Arch Angels…the war is over, and has been for some time now.”

“You know your treaty little girl,” he said.

“I’m the keeper of all contracts in Heaven and Hell.”

“And it would seem you live up to it, Death,” now the lanky man sighed, “But my attack was only to see if you were who you seemed to be, this isn’t a military action, no we’ve got our hands too full in Hell for that.”

“Hands full in Hell,” Dee repeated, “What’s going on?”

The lanky man folded his arms, his pain seemed to have subsided now, “There’s a new war brewing, and before long it might spread back to Heaven…rival factions in Hell.”

“Why hadn’t God notified us?” Dee asked.

The lanky man smiled, “He has his way of doing that from time to time.”

“And who might you be?” she asked.

“Asmodeus the Lustful,” he answered.

“Makes sense,” Dee started to pace around, “So do you have the proof you need?”

He nodded, “The proof is sufficient…”

She holstered her gun, “Then leave me be,” as she said this he just nodded and vanished in a flash of light. Dee hunched her back over and opened her wings shaking them dry as best she could before taking off again to fly off into the night.

Last Night

Last night things seemed to happen in so much of a slow motion. Usually she turned down the invitation to go to a party, I’m not sure what made things different this time but I doubt it matters. The whole thing was going down at a friend’s house on a cold autumn night.

I was frustrated when I met her there, I wasn’t sure what to expect from her. Things had been going down hill for a long time, the fall that never ends. Why was it so hard for us now? We’d been best friends for years and when we started to date for a while things suddenly took this turn.

She was dressed in a thin black dress with white polka dots, there was a little tie up ribbon around the waist. Her hair was down, as it always was. She had this thing about ponytails, she was just against them for some reason.

Her face was stretched to a forced smile, her front teeth showing, they were bigger than they should have been and it just gave her this cute sincere look. I should have known better than to take that as the truth, though.

The music was loud and I could barely hear it as she yells to me, “Glad you could make it Perry,” her green eyes shine up at me. Something in her voice made me nervous, even before the party was off in full swing I wanted to be out of the crowded house, I wanted to be home alone studying for the test next week. This party became a prison, the people barring me in. I’d climb the walls for oxygen.

“Thanks for calling me up,” I lean in to give her a kiss instinctively, she pulls back at first as if its instinct and but the mark still lands square on her cheek. As she nervously brushes the maroon hair down from her face she starts to bounce with the music. Now I yell to her, “You look so beautiful in that dress, just perfect tonight.”

A half hearted smile spreads across her lips, her lightly tanned face catches the dim light in a way that shows that one dimple she has that’s deeper than the other. “Why don’t we just dance?”

I take her hand and she leads me out to the dance floor, I’m looking her up and down and somehow I know what’s coming. I push the thought back and I bury it under everything I can inside of my head. Thoughts of school, the idea that I really can’t dance; anything at all to push those fucking feelings of regret down. Is it that I’m coming on too strong?

I’ll wait, but I’m too tired to play pretend, I’m too tired to climb this wall or claw for the air at the top of this tank anymore. I’ll suffocate until the end. We start to dance, as innocently as we can. More innocent than we would have danced as just friends. Best friends turned lovers…better off where they started.

I attempt to get closer to her, my fingers run down through her hair. Her expression changes now, her eyes flinch nervously. She looks up and down my body. Her mouth is open only part of the way. She’s working up something inside, and I want anything to take those words away at this point.

With a little step I go to kiss the side of her neck, she tilts her head up and as my lips meet her warm skin she places one hand on my waist. She whispers something in my ear, but the message is unclear. She steps back and motions outside. I trail her closely from behind as she tries hard not to cry. She shakes underneath the newly fallen pouring rain.

My voice is barely audible, “Ashley…” I go to touch her shoulder.

“I can’t compete with all your damn ideas,” her first words bite into my core, “This isn’t working out for you and me; and the truth is I’m too tired to play pretend. This is goodbye, this is the end.”

Funny Thing...

Funny thing about pictures, they can bring back memories you'd long since forgotten, or maybe you let them go because the memory itself it too painful.


I looked through some old pictures today, and I remembered part of the things that made me start to want something I probably should have known was out of the question.

The Spill Canvas

I had the notion that you'd make me change my ways
My bad habits would be gone in a matter of days
I had the feeling that you'd open up my eyes
To a whole new world that had since been in disguise

But that day will most likely never come for me
And it's just my luck to end up getting stuck
To everything you are

So tonight I'll sit and pick apart your pictures
And overanalyze your words
But the truth is that I've never fallen so hard
It's taking everything in me
Just to forget your sweater so far

I had the notion that you'd make me forget the world
But your undecisive mind shows me that
You are "just another girl"
I had the feeling that those looks you gave me were real
What if I ripped your heart apart at the seams
Maybe then you'd know how I feel

But that day will most likely never come for me
And it's just my luck to end up getting stuck
To everything you are

So tonight I'll sit and pick apart your pictures
And overanalyze your words
But the truth is that I've never fallen so hard
It's taking everything in me
Just to forget your sweater so far

I can honestly say
That I never, ever, ever felt this way
Your lips, your eyelashes, your skin
These are the parts of your body
That cause my comatose to begin

I can honestly say
That I never, ever, ever felt this way
Your lips, your eyelashes, your skin
These are the parts of your body
That cause my comatose to begin

I will sleep another day
I don't really need to anyway
What's the point when my dreams are infected
With words you used to say
I will breathe in a moment
As long as I keep my distance
I wouldn't want to go messing anything up

So don't go worrying about me
It's not like I think about you constantly
So maybe I do, but that shouldn't affect
Your life anymore
I knew it the moment you walked into the door

So don't go worrying about me
It's not like I think about this constantly
So maybe I do, but that shouldn't affect
Your life anymore
I knew it the moment you walked into the door

I'll let you get the best of me
Because there's nothing else that I do well
I'll let you get the best of me
Because there's nothing else that I do well
I'll be the giver and you'll be the taker
I guess that's how this one's gonna go I'll be the giver and you'll be the taker
You've got me down on my knees and I proclaim
All hail the heartbreaker

Irony and Insanity

They say that irony is the lynch pin of comedy, but I don't see anything to laugh at. They say that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results, I don't think I've reached the point yet. But I can feel that I am close to insanity. How I wish so badly I was wrong. That I was a man who I could say believed that men and women could be friends without it going any further than that or getting ruined.

Sometimes I want to think that girls are so gullible and yet so unwilling to try the one thing that might actually work for once. They're not even willing to take a chance on the people who tell them the truth, the guys that would never hurt them. Maybe the irony here is the masochistic way in which we all behave. The way I have behaved, I stupidly let girls walk into my life only knowing that there is too often the potential there for me to get walked on and over.

And I know full well I am capable of shutting people out, it comes with being artistic and the like. But I never have the heart to do it. And that's the true root of the insanity and irony in this little situation. Killing off a kind nature is so much harder than just being nice after being mean for a long time.

They don't understand what they're doing, they don't know it some of the time and yes we all have our own problems. It drives you insane. But it gets to the point where you want so badly to show them that you never want them in your life again and somehow at the same time, you know the real irony is, you'd want nothing more than to have them there forever.

Vienna

My body is weary, weary enough for me to make mention of it. But my heart, my heart is in shreds. Mostly because I can't seem to let go of someone that I can't have. Someone who has been good to me but someone who is so far from me in every since of the word that its best I leave her to her own happiness and pursue other goals. I want to be a great writer. I want to have a family.

I don't want to be the guy who spends his life chasing the one that got away. Of course then there is the mentality that says never to give up. What do I say to that? Do I give up on something prematurely and just let this be me raising that white flag from the top of my ship. I've done nothing but pine over this, I've thought and schemed. Plans that took me in every direction and that even made me think that it might be possible.

Or maybe this is the hard part of Love, the part where you Love someone so much you let them do what makes them happy and stand by them, but never in their way. There must be a fine fucking line between standing in their way and being the right one for someone. There's always the possibility. I don't believe in destiny, but I do believe that things happen for a reason. Maybe they don't have to happen, but they do for a reason, if that line of reason makes sense. Maybe it only does to me.

But to you out there, you might know who you are...you might not. But I have to wish you luck in being happy. If someone else is who makes you happy...then my Love for you dictates that I have to let you be happy. It's the only right thing to do. It might hurt a while, but seeing you smile is worth that much. I mean that's what Love is about, right?

Circus Seal

Kind of pissed, I had this long thing written about my job and about how I like it except for a few things. It went on to say that I was kind of weirded out by how guys think that its a bonding ritual to talk about how bad they want to have sex with girls they see. But whatever, it doesn't matter.

I'm miserable and its not due to work or anything to do with the people there. For the most part I plan to keep them kind of separate from most of my other stuff in life. But it doesn't really make much of a difference. Right now I feel like people that I cared a lot about don't care about me, if they ever did they don't anymore. They pretend to it seems...maybe to help me keep things together but I really think that deep down inside I have known for a long time. Why must we deny things that are so obviously true?

Why do I want to hold on to something it seems I never had. I wonder how many times I can bite my tongue and keep from saying, "I told you so." I've bitten it till it bleeds it seems now and at this point if I wanted to talk I don't think I'd be able to. I confirmed that I'm pretty sure these people are using me...why do I keep jumping through hoops to let them do so?

Oh great...facebook is wigging out now...just great

Janus

Looks like by not writing anything here for so long I've kept too many things bottled up and I don't even know where to begin. I can say that my old job is gone away. It's a thing of the past and I don't even need to think about it anymore. No one I talk to works there, nothing I care about is there and its better that I lost it and found a good job with the kind of things that will allow me to make more over time.

For me, Thanksgiving has always been one of those times of the year when I was dreading what was coming. Its like the worse part of the year for me and I am so glad that its gone now. The worse is behind me I guess. But more over I feel like some of my friends are slipping away, I mean I'll always have Prentiss and friends like that, they've been there too long and its like having more family. But other friends seem so distant and reluctant to want to talk.

Its like I wonder if I did something wrong or didn't do something. Or if I did something wrong by fighting so hard just to keep friends. That having been said the Holidays feel especially lonely this year. Its not getting any better and when I think that I am going to be able to just overlook that I might actually do it for a short time. But I'm not fine with things as I would like to think I am. And I hate it more than anything else when ever people act like I should be happy just because of ______.

Whatever blank that might be some people seem to think everyone has it better than them, and while some might have it better than others. It's not the case with everyone being over you. And while I really try to make the best of things and keep the things out that are said around me, there's like this constant power struggle inside of me between being who I've been for years and the jerk that I see a lot of other people become when they get discouraged.

When ever I look at the options the jerk seems more and more beneficial and I don't know what part of me holds me back, but it just does. More and more I've started to bite back at people instead of just getting walked on all of the time. But it seems that the options are be the way I am and get walked on more or be the way I've been trying not to be but keep people from walking on you.

People seem trained to use others, and when they do it they don't even seem to notice it. Maybe they don't want to, they might think that it was part of that other person's duty to help them get out of whatever rut they were in. Like some character in a book or movie that's only there to serve the purpose of furthering the plot. That's how I feel, like I'm just used to help someone get back on their feet before they run off and go do what they really wanted. Friends that I've had, girls that I've liked, they've treated me like this. And from time to time they'll come back but its only for the same reason.

In my mind I want to be mad, but I'm not sure what should make me madder, the part where they do it again or the part where I let them. In the end it just ends up being pathetic.

Self Fulfilling

I'm really just coming out of the deep sleep that was induced by the nineteen hour work day I pulled yesterday. I really love my new job, the people are bad ass. The company is a great company, but nearly twenty hours of work is well...nearly twenty hours of work. Any job could make this hard. Now its pouring rain out, so cold that the wind seems to bite at you right through the walls. This is the kind of weather I pray for and on a day like this I want nothing more than to curl up with my laptop and write the day away.

But right now, right now I know that things for me haven't gotten better. Does anyone else know how it feels to think that everyone is lying to you? To feel like your own friends don't want you around, ever? Its the kind of feeling that hollows you out from the inside. And at this time last year things were actually going alright, one of the few times around then that they were. I almost miss how things were going.

At least back then, I had this illusion in my head, or maybe it was delusion, that things would pick up. I believe in people so much more. I thought to much more of everyone and I knew that in the end me being nice to someone was all it took, they'd eventually come around. I'm so certain now that I'm wrong about all of that, but I want that delusion back.

There really are some cases where ignorance is bliss and you wonder why anyone would give it up for the truth. I think this is one of those. All it takes is one person to come along and plant an idea in your head, like Iago did Othello and you're fucked. You've got it in their bouncing around and the more you start to entertain it, its like the more it becomes self fulfilling. But I guess I can't hope to get that back. I can't unlearn what I learned and I most definitely can't ignore it. No matter how much I wish I could.

Angel

I had manage to get my arm down into the wall as deep as the shoulder but I still couldn’t reach the artifact. My cheek was pushed flush against the wall. I was breathing heavily from exhaustion and dripping with sweat. Something I did coming in must have knocked the security system offline or something. I really wasn’t an electrical expert or anything like that.

With a sigh I reached up and brushed the locks of hair away from my eye, I tried again to push my arm further. Forcing my shoulder deeper into the hole, but I really couldn’t move any further.

I cursed under my breath, “Dammit.”

I tried again at the wall, this time looking around at the room to make sure that no one was coming. I had been here longer than I’d expected and the longer I stayed the more I risked exposure. Of course, when you’re thief you don’t expect to come such a long way through high tech security systems only to get stopped up because a safe just happens to be further back in the wall than your arm can go.

Overhead there was a loud clanging, thinking that someone might be coming I retracted my arm from the hole just a bit. But as the air conditioning came to life in the ceiling I realized what I had heard and continued at what I was doing.

The room I was in was at the center of a large office building. The middle room of the middle floor of a sixty story building. Normally being thirty stories off of the ground would make the escape that much harder for the thief, but not for me. The room itself was pretty vacant. The walls were a stainless steel metal, as were the floors and ceiling. The room seemed to be as sterile as an operating room.

In the middle of the whole thing were three long metal tables, but nothing was on them. Besides the safe, I really couldn’t be sure what this room was for. One good thing was the fact that there was only one way in and one way out and if someone were going to come in to get me, they’d have to do it through that door.

I yanked my arm free of the hole and turned back to the table that was at my back, my gun was right there laying flat on the table. With a dull smirk I whipped my gun up into my hand, “I really should have some tools for this kind of thing…”

Now with my gun in hand, I stuck my arm back into the safe, trying to see if I could use the gun to pull the object closer to me. I let out a few short grunts, moving and pushing my shoulder harder into the wall.

I huffed, “Oh come on…”

Suddenly something slammed into the door of the room, “Who’s that in there?”

“Shit,” I glanced around for somewhere to hide. In a room like this there was no where.

I clenched my gun tight, “Alright, I guess there’s only one way to do this.” With my gun in hand, I yanked my arm free of the hole and stepped out away from the wall. There came a second slam at the door, this one louder than the first.

My hand went out towards the hole and I concentrated really hard, I bit down lightly on my lip and closed my jade eyes tight. I could feel my mind wrapping around the object. I could feel its shape in my head. I knew to do this too long or too hard could be damaging. Cautiously I pushed on, I could feel my grasp tighten around the object now, its rough surface texture was now so apparent in my mind.

And then I ripped it free of the hole where it was bound, the object flipped from the safe and back into my hand. I grasped it for real now. I hated to have to depend on these “abilities” that I had. I saw them more of a hindrance…a reminder of my former self than anything else.

“We’re coming in,” the man at the door was muffled by the thick steel, but I could hear his voice clear enough.

I glanced down at the artifact, it was about the size of my hand and rough. Just by looking at it I could tell I would have no idea what the damn thing was, and I didn’t care as long as I got my money. I slipped the thing into my pocket.

The door to the room flew open and in an instant I dropped to one knee with my Beretta outstretched. I fired the first shot into the forehead of the first face through the door. His head snapped back with the force of the bullet and his blood sprayed out behind him. The second two bullets were into the chest of the guy right behind him. They fell almost at the same time.

I didn’t have time to get my next bullet off before the third man fired back at me. I dove over to the side landing with my chest down and then scrambled up for cover behind the table. I kept low and as I turned around the side of the table, I could hear him making his way around the other side of the table.

Instinctively I stood and jumped over the table catching him on the side and knocking him off balance. He fell back against the table in the middle of the room with a thunderous thud. I grabbed him by the side of the head and with a pop of electricity from my fingers I saw his eyes go bloodshot. It didn’t take that much heat to boil someone’s blood inside of their body.

This electric touch, another one of my little “gifts”.

Quickly I got against the wall next to the door and checked down the hallway, no one was coming from what I could see and they probably hadn’t expected to need more than one security officer for anything that happened.

If all had gone well I planned on making my way out of the building through the front. But with the way that things were looking now I had better play it safe. “Well this is where you excel, right Angel?” I muttered to myself?

The lingering smell of gunpowder in the air was still fresh. The room was calm again and the only sound was me breathing and the quiet hum of the A/C unit above. I moved back out into the hallway with my gun pressed tightly down into my lap. The security lights that ran over night in the building painted the hall a pale blue color, the color that full moon casts down on things.

I navigated the curves of the hallways trying to make sure that I went to the right side, there was no need to rush right out into the middle of the street, even if it was late at night. I needed to find a more secluded place to make my escape.

When I turned the next corner I could see at the end of the hall that the room opened up. This room too was bathed in the same bluish light and luckily for me there was a large plate glass window facing out to a street.

I sighed, “Thank…yeah…” I made my way over to the window, running between rows of cubicles that had just hours ago had workers in them. The smell of fresh printer toner was still lingering in the air.

I hit the window with my hands and glanced down at the ground from my perch. Of course it was a long way down. Humanly impossible for me to make the jump without some sort of aid…at least that would have been the case if I was a Human.

With my fist drawn back as far as it would go I punched into the glass shattering a huge section of it. The cascade of glass rained down onto the street below and clattered around my feet too.

I started back by the cubicles, building up a running star and dashing towards the shattered window. They stormed into the room as I dove free off the window. The air ripped past me, I hadn’t planned this well. I really hadn’t planned this part at all. I felt the air through my hair, strands of blonde whipped at my face.

No part of my outfit could be used for creating drag and I wouldn’t die, not even from this fall. But if I couldn’t get myself turned right side up it would hurt…like Hell.

From somewhere above, over the howl of the cold wind I could hear their desperate gunshots. I tucked my body into a ball and tried to roll so that my feet were down. I didn’t want to give myself away. It seemed like I might have to.

Time seemed elongated. As I neared the ground I decided to use that gift of mine again. I let a magnetic field erupt around me. There was a parked car right where I would land. I could only pray no one was inside.

With a thud I slammed into the top of the car, the alarm blared and the roof was compacted down into the cab. Glass exploded out around the car and the screech of the car’s anti theft device seemed to grow weaker.

My boots slid slightly and I went ahead and jumped off the top of the car. I checked my pouch I wore for the artifact. “Pay dirt.”

I gave a quick glance around to see if anyone was there to notice me. The coast was clear. I darted off down a dark alley and made my way back to my car, I’d parked it a few blocks off for safety reasons.

As I go I speak to myself, “Angel, you’ve done it again.”

Faulty

I listened to his voice, he was a man who sounded to be in his mid thirties but looked at least ten years older. His eyes encased in dark circles and he leaned forward over the table with a cigarette clenched between his index and middle fingers. His voice rasped a little as he rocked toward the table some, “Back then I didn’t know anything but drugs,” he continued telling his tale to the woman who sat across the table from him., “I lived for the drugs and used drugs to feel alive.”

My fingers went around the top of my cup, the smell of the sweet coffee wafting out filled my nose and I sighed. I glanced down in the cup and I could make out my own reflection. My dark curls bunched up around my head, in the surface of the liquid my eyes appeared to be little more than dark holes.

I take my final sip from the glass and glance over at the man sitting in the corner booth, his back is to a window. He’s sat back some now. The waitress hovering over me with my ticket in hand grabs my attention, “Would you like this now, sweetheart?”

I nod to her, “Sat it down,” my arm goes down to the ash tray and I retrieve my cigarette. With a long slow drag I flare the ember on the business end and then flick the remains down in my coffee.

“I know what you mean,” the woman across from the table with the man was talking now, “I’ve been clean and sober six months and it still feels…it’s still like something is missing.”

Just lifting the glass slightly, I slid my ticket and my money under the still half full mug and get to my feet.

“Then maybe there is,” the man answered her as he took a drag on his own cigarette. “Who are they to tell us that we’re not right…its not our fault that we were manufactured with these…Faulty Souls…that some God saw fit to make it where we need someone else to feel right…we can’t all find someone else, its not just that easy. And when no one is there, we need something to hold us over.”

I smiled slightly, “I thought so,” I mutter under my breath.

“I don’t know…” the woman said.

“Maybe drugs are the answer,” he said now, “Maybe all that shit they’re pumping into our heads down there only works for some of the people out there, what about people like us…”

My fingers fumbled down the buttons of my coat, they were large metal buttons and I had always had a hard time getting out of them, when I reached the last one I dug into my coat, “People like you, you say?” Both of them looked up at me.

“Lady, do you know how rude that is?” asked the man.

“Where are my manners,” I said, “I might care if you actually were a person…”

“What’s that…”

“Demonic scum,” my fingers curled around something cold and metallic. The look of shock on his face was priceless. When I leveled my gun at him and fired the gun through his face, his blood painted the wall and that look was suspended there. The glass window nearby was shattered and in the panic the woman cried out going to hide under the table.

I scoffed, the smoke in the room now wasn’t the kind from a cigarette or match. The dimly lit diner was filled with the sounds of glasses rattling and confused screams of panic. Demons masquerading as humans, preying on the weak. Wolves in sheep’s clothing.

I made my escape in the blink of an eye. A tuft of black feathers left in my wake. In this kind of justice there’s no jury, no witnesses, no one is all that sure what they’ve seen. I took orders straight from God for so long that to me, there’s no reason to be discrete or to show discrimination between demons, whether it’s a low level trying to con a woman into carnal or chemical pleasures, or something far more sinister.

The truth of the matter was something was stirring, deep within the Earth. Something so horrid that it had the demons heading for higher ground, every now and then they’d attempt to blend in and act right. What could cause them to seek shelter so vigorously?

I didn’t know, but as I watched the commotion inside of the diner from the next parking lot over, I was sure I would find out.

Untitled Piece

She said, “October never got this cold before I moved back here, but I’m not complaining.”

The thin wire frame sign twists and bends in the cold wind. All of the grass under me where I lay feels so cold against my back that I could swear the ground was wet. The sun is blotted out from the sky by a low hanging sheet of clouds. And I just have to lay here and ask myself, “How often do I get to do this?”

After living in Chicago for a while, it never got cold enough for her to consider it Winter or even Autumn. Her thin livid arms are stretched out and up behind her head, she turns to look at me and some of her red hair drops over her eyes, “Did you say something?”

“It was nothing,” I let the words slip out as I continued to stare up at the clouded sky.

This was the epitome of the lazy Saturday, this was the kind of day that I lived for, even on the rare occasion that they happened. I felt her head ram hard into my chest. When I glanced down I could see that she had jumped against me, her arms were wrapped around me and her face gazing up at mine.

“No kids, no work; I really think that I could stay out here like this all day,” her voice was quiet with excitement, the way intimate secrets were told. It was the way her voice always got when she was giddy. That was something that should have been comforting, right?

I wrapped my arm around her back and let my hand rest on her stomach, “With things the way they’ve been around here recently its good to have a rest.”

“Well I know that work’s been getting to you,” her green eyes were half closed now and her lips stayed parted when she finished speaking. She reached up and pushed her hair back some, “Work’s been hard on all of us.”

Hard was an understatement. Including myself, several of our group had been injured in the past few months, one of them nearly died and on top of all of this we have very good reason to believe that we’re being spied on by someone in our group. Basically everything that we knew has changed or be rearranged in some way or another.

Life set us on this track and then halfway through went and pulled the track up and left us to wonder aimlessly with out direction. I’m not sure what options we have when that happens except for trust our instincts and hope for the best.

“At least we’re all still alive,” I said.

She slid her body further up mine, our faces coming closer together, “It’s like every time we talk you get hung up on this,” she paused, “Isn’t there anything else you’d care to think about…anything at all,” her voice took that same tone again.

I smoothed her hair back with my hand and then ran my fingers down through it, “I don’t mean to do that at all…”

“I know, its just…we’ve got some time to rest finally and…”

“I know, sorry…” my voice is dry, dry like the rough brown pine needles we cleared from the yard earlier that day.

“…and you act like things are so serious,” she said. Suddenly she smiled real big, “It’s not the end of the world, you know?”

Sixteen years of marriage and its hard to believe, this woman still smiles at me this way. She smiles at me despite the things I’ve done, despite everything that’s happened. Sometimes I wonder if she’s blocked it all out. Sometimes I think if she only knew. I’m a monster.

My free hand fumbles through my pocket, I produce my lighter and a pack of Lucky Strikes. I struggle to get the pack open with one hand and pull one single cigarette free of the flip top box. Her eyes scold me, but she doesn’t say a word.

I slip the thin white clothed strip of tobacco into my mouth and go to light it, “The end of the world,” I repeat, “Sometimes I think it is…”

I'm a Girl?

After working in a game store for the last few months I have had a chance to observe a few things. More recently, like this week I have had a complaint from a few people of the same nature. Basically several people came in and made the same complaint about different games. The complaint didn't have anything to do with gameplay, graphics or anything like that. Frankly it kind of surprised me that they had this complaint. What was it?

The complaint was that they were a girl in the game they were playing.

In one case there was an option to change the character to a male or female. But in the other the girl was the main protagonist and you didn't have the option. The last time that I heard someone mention it was today. The game was portal and the person saw their reflection in the portal and asked "Is that what you the person looks like?"

I answered, "Yeah."

"I'm a girl, I don't want to be a girl, I'm a guy."

The thing I don't get is the guy went on to make this an even bigger deal and I just had to think, do you realize how long it was before there were that many girls in games as playable characters? The market for that kind of thing is pretty male oriented and even worse when there are women in games they traditionally look like Laura Croft. What's the matter with playing a female protagonist? I mean I don't see any issue with it really. This guy acted like it was dehumanizing to have to be a girl for a few hours in a game.

I mean do these people think about the fact that any time a girl played she had to be a guy for years nearly...and that when they finally started to use girls they were almost always there to be this sexual object. Not that it actually is a huge deal, but it kind of pissed me off is all.

Al Gore?

Al Gore won the Noble Peace Prize...well there goes any honor that Institution could have hoped to have had.

I say we stage a protest, I'm going to start burning trash, emitting all the green house gases I can and just generally Polluting because that's what Al Gore wouldn't want, right?

Actually, if you can win a prestigious award by lying...I'm not sure what this world is coming to.

Friend Zone

I had a little bit of a talk the other day with someone about some things, namely dating friends. I've never understood why I see so many people talk about how they want to be friends first but it seems like there's almost never any chance for anyone to date their friend. Its like, by going there you're automatically pulled out of the dating pool. Yet at the same time here you are being told that you should go and be friends first.

From my standpoint, those guys that end up dating girls that they were "friends" with aren't the kind of friend that I would call a real honest friend. Its hard for me to explain, but have you ever looked at a girls friends and thought, "Yeah, he's just trying to get into her pants" about one of them? Well those are the kind of guys that usually end up getting the girl when they are quote, "friends". As mean as I am, I just can't trick another person, I have to be real friends with them, and that's my problem.

I know that talking about this isn't going to make the problem go away, I mean all kinds of problems get talked about and none of them are just gone because of it. I really don't ever see a change where socially its just well known that most of the time the type of person that someone says they want to date, isn't the type they actually date.

A lot of men don't care how smart a girl is. A lot of women don't seem to care if a guy really is nice to them. In some regard, both sexes suffer for their lack of truth with themselves. I've seen a guy try to convince himself that a girl was smart, just to justify being with her. Likewise, I have seen a girl trying to convince herself that this guy is being nice to her when it's clear he's not.

But there's hope. Some men out there (like me) can't stand a girl who is stupid when it comes to dating. What I mean is we all make some mistakes or goof up from time to time. But if you've almost drowned from standing in a shower, I don't want to talk to you. Actually intelligence in a girl is attractive and as I have said before, can make a decent looking girl seem a lot cuter. Plus, unlike beauty it doesn't fade.

There are also those girls out there who like guys that are nice to them and aren't looking for some kind of a "work in progress" bad boy. Unfortunately for most guys like me, most of those girls are taken...

...yeah it sucks.

Dancing With the Stars

Dancing with the Stars gargles my balls...

I mean where the Hell is the real star in that show?

I wish my mom would stop talking about it all of the time...