OH HELL, OH SURE!

Going to try and include the various loud shouts passing around my mind by incorporating them into a small story. Sometimes it's so easy to get frustrated over very small things. 


"Walk left, son!"

The darkness bore witness to the shouts of a family of blind people. HERECOMES ANOTHER YELLOW DOLLAR. PLEASE DON'T WORRY ABOUT HER. They were shuffling dangerously close to the edge of the mountain peak. OH BUT I REALLY DOUBT IT. PLEASE DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. The youngest of the family, a small boy aged around ten years was confidently striding left, right towards the peak. His family seemed to be warning him about the huge drop he was so confidently striding to. However, listening a bit more attentively to the overwhelming darkness, it was clear they were edging him on. WE'RE SURROUNDED. THE CAMERA WASN'T SUPPOSED TO FIND YOU. YET THE MOON STOPPED SHINING THE DAY I OPENED MY UMBRELLA INSIDE AND MY EYES BURNED OUT LIKE A BAD PHOTOGRAPH. "Keep walking left, son! Keep going!", screamed his father. I SMELL BUBBLEGUM. TOM WAITS HAS THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. The boy stopped his footsteps immediately before the peak. He could hear the small, infant stones he had displaced with his innocent toes hurtle towards their untimely and unfair removal from the rock cycle. The small rocks would surely die. The boy stood for a few seconds. Stood, waited, acknowledged his life. He was hesitant and a nauseating, sickening sensation ran from the base of his spine, right into his eyes. He was shaking. The air was like needles, like partisans from the war hiding and waiting for their time to strike, to distrupt. I could feel that the whole thing was disgusting and grey and dark, dark green. He knew what he had to do and the wind was just right. He threw himself after the rocks. CITY ON DRUGS, THIS CITY IS ON DRUGS. A tear came to the eye of the father, arrived without saying anything and then left. The salty taste of pain was in his mouth and I could clearly see that he was blank. LITTLE BLANK FACES. I WISH YOU WOULDN'T BE SO FUCKING WEAK. IF WE DON'T STICK TOGETHER, THIS DIES YOU FUCKING MORON. MOROSE. THIS GRAVEYARD IS COVERED IN TEARDROPS HA HA HA. If I could have had a violin at that moment in time, the overwhelming emotion in the air would have taught me well. However, the family would have heard and their trance would have been broken. The father shuffled further left. He wasn't as confident as his youngest because his eyeshight was worse. He moved with the wind, rather than with his feet. They were tired and uncertain, but the wind knew him and knew his destination. THIS IS A FUCKING CARTOON. YOU MADE ME VOMIT! HA HA! THERE'S STOMACH ACID ON THE TOILET SEAT! SIT DOWN CARLO! THIS BAND SOUNDS JUST LIKE SPARROWS IF THEY WERE SHIT. After arriving at the place that he knew would be his last, he called out to his remaining family, "We did good, huh, guys?" He smiled. Happiness filled him. He felt so fulfilled, nothing was as satisfying as what was going to happen. Point break. Better than the best sex, the best food. Better than the best drug. All his life it was cats on wheels, television dogs, paedophiles and blurry skies. Well, no more. He smiled again, and felt the air against his euphoric body as he plummeted to meet his son. I'LL MAKE IT BETTER. WE'LL TRAVEL ANDOUR CHILDREN WILL LEARN! If Presidents could cry, they would never cry as hard as he did as he fell. The mother thought she heard his bumpy ride. She thought she heard a dull thud as skeletons entagled and embraced inbetween a pulp at the base of the mountain. She ran. All her life she was a follower, impressionable and weak. Some people succeed and win, but some go along copying ideas and feigning character. She was a complete fake. A lie. So she ran. She knew she deserved everything that had happened. The accident, the fire. The wails of a toddler trapped in her cot, suffocated by black death, by smoke. The blindness. The vacation bought on the last of the family savings to see this mountain. The daughter implying there was nothing left. The daughter. Her daughter. As she hurtled through the wind to greet her husband, she realised something and the intensity of the shriek would puzzle county Rangers for years. The daughter stood above. She smirked, removed her glasses and walked back to the cabin to meet a friend and get drunk.



Phew, that was fun to write. I'm going to throw up some drawings and maybe photos and maybe even a song next time and I'll write the next part of Timbaca with more of the rhinocerous. This post was really just a roundabout way of whinging about how everything sucks LOL.


Peace x
G.Princip