gyalrin
Blood began to run down his scalp, caught by his eyebrows. "Hey when did I get this," Clide wondered; but it was too late, he began to feel dizzy, his vision started to blur but somehow he could see a beautiful white light that made him feel golden inside. He collapsed to the ground searching for the light in a dream he would never awaken from.
When shrouded in darkness with no place to go
you wander aimlessly with no destination in mind
you begin to se a glimmer of light it begins to shine
Now you have direction but will you make it to your destination in time?
who knows whether the light will disappear?
who knows if the light is just a mirage or a figment of your imagination?
You don't, and you cant know. but you tread that path anyways because all you have is hope.
I knew a man once. His name was Chuck; from our talks I learned he dreamed of starting a production company, but his actions told me otherwise. When chuck got a little money he would spend it on frivolous things like baseball hats when he only had a few dollars to his name, his actions and aspirations were incongruent. I met chuck while I was in college, we had a class together. It wasn't long before the class began that I was introduced to him by a friend. One of the things we had in common was our military background. Since we had something in common I assumed that he met what he said because being in the military can make a person quickly realize that they don't want to work for someone else. Like chuck, I aspired to be a business owner. My first business venture, which was a social media website, was a failure, but the experience taught me many things. One day I sat chuck down to talk to him about ow your actions should always be related to your dreams, a lesson I learned years prior to. Chuck was offended by the advice I was offering and severed our relationship. A week or so later, the same friend that introduced me to chuck was telling me about his morning during our break from class. Apparently he got a call from chuck early in the morning asking for a ride to school because his car had been repossessed. It was made clear to me then that chuck suffered from habitual bad judgment. I sincerely wanted to help the guy I wanted him to realize that he'll never achieve his goals acting the way he's acting, but doing so would destroy him. See chuck was a man with a troubled past, his mother was addicted to crack, he was raised in the heart of Chicago. It turns out that that even though he wasn't where he aspired to be yet he was far away from past, which may have been good enough for him at the time. I then realized the power of a dream, the power of hope. Chuck, in a sense, is like me, a man in a crazy world using the possibility of one day realizing his dream as a compass guiding through life. The power of hope is like fuel to a car. You could know where to go but you need something to help you make the journey.
The couple spent all evening adorning the tree in preparation for the ay to come. All night they stayed up and talked about their issues and how they felt about certain experiences. Slowly their issues became settled and they realized how foolishly they've acted. Their came an awkward science between the two, partially from sleep deprivation and partially from their realization. Had they strained their relationship past the point of no return? or was their still something left to salvage? They hadn't even filtered or displayed affection toward each other in months.
He heard mumbling, it was coming from the bathroom, the door slightly perched open. Carefully he crept toward the door and peered through the crack, making sure to go unnoticed. There was only one person in the bathroom, it was Janice, she was naked standing in front of a mirror leaning on the countertop in front of it; he could only get a glimpse of her round protruding butt. "I don't want to fucking go to the goddamn funeral," she said, "I'm glad that rotten motherfuckers dead anyways, why would I want to stand around and watch people bury him, crying over his grave? Madness." He had never seen a naked woman before and his curiosity was aroused, if there was just a little more room to look through, he'd be able to see one for the first time. Carefully he nudged the edge of the door to open it more, his heart began to palpitate, beating so loud he thought she might hear it. He peered again through the crack to see a large scar that ran from her underarm to down to the front of her thigh, it looked clean almost with surgical persuasion, like someone took a knife and ran it down her torso. The boy became frightened, if she had caught him, she would know that he knew about her secret. He had to make a hasty retreat, gingerly moving his left leg backward and then his right, and again his left. A loud creek from the floor was sounded, it alerted alerted Janice, she knew that it was the sound made only when someone was walking on the old wood floor of the bedroom. She bolted to the door and slamed it open with horrifying intensity; to see a petrified 12 year old boy, who has an expression on his face as if he just wet his pants. It was the most beautifully horrific thing the boy had ever seen. As the two stood there, Janice not realizing she was naked, the boy began to get an erection.
Leverage, its a powerful thing that comes in many forms. Most people fail to realize it when it has it's influences, but once you have an eye for it, its everywhere. It could be the boy prodding his mother to buy candy at a gas station, utilizing the leverage of love. It could be the mugger pointing a gun at an unsuspecting victim, relying the leverage of fear. It could be a politician, using the leverage of respect, to move the masses. How will you use it?
It was an undeniable feeling, the way she walked, the way she talked, the way her hair bounced around like miniature slinkies even when she was still. I would walk to school in the mornings, hoping to see her along the way so we could chat, even if it were only a few words. Wether the feeling was mutual, I wasn't sure, I was never taught the queues to watch for when someone was attracted to another. After days of accompanying each other on our walk to school, I finally summoned enough courage to ask her- the uncertainty had become too much to bear. I can't remember what I said, but I do remember her response. Her mouth widened revealing her perfectly aligned, pristine, stubby teeth, I had never seen a smile so beautiful.
That morning, when people normally would be going about they're daily commute to work, the community stood distraught in front of the defamed statue. Its lustrous surface marred by graffiti, and vandalism. The arm that once stood tall, dismembered from its body. Who could do do such a thing?
There was a loud crashing noise. Ensued by an unbearable shaking that reacquainted everyone to the floor. I heard cries of agony and pain, the kind of cries that are unmistaken by the ear of any man or woman. Never had such a terror stirred in my heart. I became paralyzed and disoriented, my vision had become red. Windows shattered, ceilings collapsed, the ground began tearing like fragile paper. People were being killed. I looked to my left to find Annie curled in the fetal position unable to react. I slowly struggle to my knees then manage to get footing. I pick Annie up th way a groom would carry a bride an a honeymoon. And I run for our lives.
Day after day the men labored, carefully placing brick upon brick. The arduous task was enough to discourage the workers, so during the workday they invented way to circumvent the ennui, singing songs that once belonged to their era. Soon the men came to realize their similarities outnumbered their differences and day by day, month by month, brick by brick, the once detached weathered men, became like brothers of a close knit family, like birds of a flock.
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