Monday, October 31, 2016

Elvira and Jake



Elvira and Jake (2016)


Jake Briggs found himself alone in the street as the sun set over a brisk autumn day in Chicago. He had just been turned away at the homeless shelter because it was currently over capacity. He had nowhere else to go and no one to turn to during this particularly awful point in his life. The shelter offered some assistance in the past, but not enough for consistent survival. Days like today reminded him of that. The previous times that he was turned away, he would move on and go begging near the local highway exit, hoping that a few passing motorists would be generous enough to place some spare change in his dusty fast food cup. On this particular evening, Jake decided to forgo that strategy. He went to the nearest hotel instead. His plan was to wait for the kitchen staff until they threw out the day’s unused food. After they were through, he would dig in the refuse bags in hopes of finding some sustenance to help get him through the night. In the deep throes of desperation Jake would do anything to survive.

Jake approached the hotel just as the final beams of light vacated the dim November sky. He was huddled in a raggedy jacket full of holes and old scuff marks. His thin grey shoes were a few days away from wearing all the way through. He took solace in the fact that he had washed, shaved, and brushed his teeth at the shelter two nights ago, and so he was not as non-presentable as he could have been. Things are bad now, but they could have been much worse, he thought as he entered the hotel’s parking lot. He then sat down on the curb of a vacant parking spot near the dumpster and waited.

Two hours passed and the cold night air strongly sunk its grip into the terrain. Pedestrians slowly streamed in and out of the hotel’s back door. Jake lazily gazed at them as he sat there, drowning in waves of incessant nostalgia. He was just like those fortunate people once, not too long ago. He remembered how he was a warehouse manager at a local freight distribution facility only seven months prior. He rented a comfortable apartment and had his own car. Food was never scarce and there was always sufficient time for leisure after work. It was a good life and he did not have many worries while living it. An unfortunately timed psychotic breakdown at the warehouse took all of that away from him. At the peak of his psychosis, he became so belligerent and mad with rage that all three of the paramedics at the scene had to jump on him and restrain him one limb at a time. They gave him a double-dose of sedative to make sure he remained subdued. The psychotic episode seemed quite distant now, faded by the drifting tides of time. Jake probed his mind for answers as to what had caused the breakdown in the first place. To this day, he did not know.

“Hey there, it looks like you could use some help,” an older woman’s voice startled Jake into alertness. He had unintentionally passed out on the small patch of grass behind the parking spot.

“I’ll be okay,” he mumbled as he came to his senses. “Thanks, though.”

“The low is in the 30s tonight. You’re gonna freeze out here! And you’re not gonna pick through that dumpster for food, are you? Oh no… how about you come over for dinner? A warm meal could do you some good.” The woman seemed oddly hospitable for a stranger.

“Thanks, I’ll be okay, I will…” Jake did not want to burden this woman with his troubles. He finally got a decent look at her under the street light. She appeared to be in her mid 40s and heavy set, not particularly pleasing aesthetically. Her gaze was one of universal loneliness. It appeared that she needed a companion just as much as he needed a meal. He pondered the situation in his mind for a few moments and then decided to come with her. The air was sinking into a numb frigid stillness. He was sure that whatever happened henceforth, his weary body would not regret his decision to choose her over the bitter cold.

“I’m Elvira,” the woman said as she drove her late 1990s Oldsmobile out of the hotel parking lot. After an extended moment of awkward silence, Jake finally responded.

“I’m Jake.”

“Nice to meet you,” Elvira said. “I have some chicken thawing out on my counter. We’re gonna have a nice little meal.”

“Thank you,” said Jake. It was all that could muster. He had no idea why a complete stranger was being so hospitable to him. Jake had always lived his life as a downtrodden underdog. He never had many friends. The once had usually kept their distance. Jake saw himself as an unfortunate character, always contemplating over things that could go wrong instead of enjoying the things that didn’t. He would attempt to break this pattern tonight, and it would be nice to experience a proper meal after months on the street. The stale soup and canned meat served at the shelter were passable, at best. He was ready for a real meal.

They were inside Elvira’s two-bedroom apartment now. It was located in Arlington Heights, one of the northwestern suburbs of Chicago. Jake was sitting nervously at the dining room table while Elvira put the finishing touches on their meal in the kitchen. A slightly obnoxious dog released bursts of staccato barks from the hallway. He was breaking in a newly purchased toy.

“I don’t cook much for others, I don’t have much company over,” said Elvira as she brought over a platter of baked chicken followed by mashed potatoes and a bowl of steamed vegetables. “I hope this will do.” She placed the food in the center of the table. Jake felt intense saliva build up in his mouth. The food looked and smelled magnificent.

“It looks great, thank you,” said Jake. He then caught himself, realizing that ‘thank you’ was just about all he had been saying to this woman. He decided to open up a more proper stream of dialogue in an attempt to get to know his host.

“You have a nice home, Elvira,” Jake said. “Would you mind me asking what you do for a living?”

"Nothing fancy,” Elvira replied. “I’m an office assistant for an insurance company. The job is repetitive, but I’m quite comfortable with it.”

“I used to be a warehouse manager before I hit some hard times,” said Jake.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, you’ll get through it,” Elvira said. Sweetie. Jake was not prepared to hear that unforeseen term of endearment. It made him nervous, as well as introspective. He once had a long term partner, Cassandra, who left him because his managerial position at the warehouse made him unavailable - at least in her eyes. He had no recent major romantic events in his life to speak of, having only been on a few forgettable dates since Cassandra left him.

“It won’t be easy to get through this. My entire family abandoned me; no one will take me in. And you know, it’s almost impossible for a homeless person to get a job.”

“Don’t you worry, Jake. There will be a solution, just keep your head up. You know… I’ve come to like you even though we’ve just met. You’re an honest man, a simple and humble man. People like you get lost in the cruel trenches of the world.”

“I appreciate your kind hospitality,” said Jake.

They continued to eat and converse. Elvira caught Jake up on the major news and sporting events that he had missed out on. When dinner was over Elvira hinted that Jake could sleep on the couch. Jake was longing for intimate contact with a woman, but was rather clueless on how to approach his newfound desire of going to bed with Elvira.

“I’ll get you some extra blankets; you should be okay out here.”

“Thank you,” said Jake.

They slept separately with no contact. Jake slept soundly and did not stir throughout the night. The couch was much more comfortable than the stiff cots at the homeless shelter. He woke up to the sounds and smells of Elvira making breakfast in the kitchen.

“Eggs and bacon, all for you. Oh, and there’s some toast too,” said Elvira. “I must go to work now. We can discuss your future arrangements when I get back. Make yourself at home, help yourself to anything in the fridge, and just enjoy the day. I’ll be back before you know it. Oh, and please scrub the bathroom.”

Elvira placed the plate on the table and left the apartment, locking it behind her. Jake, still rather unaccustomed to full meals, devoured the food. After he ate he switched on the TV and tuned to the round-the-clock sports channel for background noise and pondered the sudden change in his life. He could see a potential romantic relationship developing between himself and Elvira. She seemed nice enough and it was a comfortable home. He figured he had nothing to lose. Whatever troubles or conflict that may come up here would pale in comparison to being homeless. He then remembered Elvira’s last comment, oh, and please scrub the bathroom. Well, why not? Doing a few chores in exchange food and a bed seemed reasonable.

Elvira came home just a bit after six P.M. Jake was happy to see her, but she seemed drained from a long day at work.

“Hi, did you scrub the bathroom?” was the first thing Elvira said.

Jake felt a nerve inside him being struck by the question. He now felt somewhat disrespected by Elvira. He wondered if she picked him up from the parking lot just to be a live-in servant whom she wouldn’t have to pay.

“Yes, I cleaned it the best I could,” said Jake.

 Elvira went on to her bedroom to change out of her work clothes. In that particular moment Jake was feeling both angry and lustful towards Elvira. His mind bypassed all rational judgment when he decided to follow her down the hallway. He was now waiting in a slouched position outside of her closed door. Without knocking he barged in on her changing.

“I want you!” Jake awkwardly exclaimed.

Elvira seemed somewhat stunned by Jake’s intrusion but she did not put a stop to his advance. Jake embraced her then kissed her and she kissed him back. Both of them felt an internal rush of pleasure as they made physical contact with each other. Both had been alone for a very long time. A rather quint session of love-making followed. The two loners felt at easy with each other and neither was judgmental of the other's ailments.

The next morning Elvira went to work as usual and Jake was left alone with a new set of orders. They never did discuss the terms of Jake's stay. Elvira also seemed more crass and standoffish when giving Jake the new set of tasks, which had greatly expanded from simply scrubbing the bathroom.

Jake was vacuuming the living room carpet when Elvira walked in with a cringing demeanor and a slight scowl on her face. Clearly this was not the woman he bedded last night. He shut off the vacuum and went to the door to greet her, all the while wondering what Elvira's true nature was. Was she a psychopath? Did she get pleasure from ordering him around, beckoning him to do her every command? Jake knew that his slave-like status was still a better state than being homeless.

"Hi, Elvira, did you have a good day at work?"

"Wash those dishes!" Elvira barked.

Jake suddenly felt ill.

"Elvira, I did wash them, they're perfectly clean," he said.

"Wash those damn dishes now!" suddenly she seemed hostile.

"Okay, okay," said Jake as he retreated to the kitchen sink area. Elvira followed him. She then picked up a frying pan from the counter and began to corner him.

"Do my dishes or I swear I'll kill you right here and now!" Elvira was now screaming.

Jake didn't know what to do at first. His survival instincts then sprung forth and he kicked Elvira in the left knee. Fight was chosen over flight. Elvira buckled, dropped the pan, and fell to the floor. Without thinking twice, Jake picked up the dropped frying pan and smashed it against Elvira's skull. Elvira screamed.

Jake smashed her again, harder this time. Pent up rage was exiting. This was it, the culmination of years and years of personal suffering.

Jake swung the pan back again, this swing arcing even further, and struck Elvira one last time. Blood was puddling on the floor near her mouth. Elvira was now silent. Her skull was partially crushed and slimy bits of head tissue were leaking from the cracks.

Jake did not make a single sound. He calmly washed himself free of any blood and then disappeared into the night.

Elvira lay dead on her kitchen floor. Her little dog came from the apartment's hallway and began barking to no avail.


Saturday, October 29, 2016

In Winter


In Winter (2016)

Death, the stalking specter
Beckoned from the woods
I lit my final candle
and waited as I should

Its claw was soft as velvet
Its gaze was eagle keen
I seldom knew what entities
Would come pollute my dreams

And so I calmly waited
The moment but a straw
So thin and dry and useless
Against time's gaping maw

There was no need for fighting
There was no shrewd retort
The cancer shrugged it shoulders
And I was then no more



Thursday, October 27, 2016

The Silent Society Templar


The Silent Society Templar


Damon Gyles and Lassandra Wyrwin stood in awe amidst the overpowering wonder of the temple rising from the rocky cascades in front of them. Many legends and rumors about it have been drifting amidst the galaxy for centuries. To finally see it in person was nothing short of remarkable. Four enormous towers, each one representing a spiral arm of the Milky Way, stood solidly above the rocky terrain of the mesa. Inside of their perimeter was a giant dome which was paneled with intricate glistening fractal patterns, representing the infinite complexity of life in the galaxy. Light from across the visible spectrum bounced in an around these patterns, creating a shining mosaic of cosmic beauty. A lone walkway supported by several pillars spanned the immensely deep canyon which surrounded the temple on all sides.

The temple's construction could be deemed impressive in any technological age. The fact that the Silent Society built it using only manual labor, without the aid machines, was all the more impressive. Damon figured that it must have taken several generations of workers to build the four towers alone. He and Lassandra felt extremely alien as they entered a realm of civilization which predated all known technology. They would have to rely solely on their own intuitive cunning and ingenuity during their appeal for freedom before the High Templar Council. They would be thoroughly searched upon entrance, ensuring that no Galactic Federation technology would make its way into the temple.

Damon unhooked his utility belt and placed it among a small rock formation in front of the walkway. Lassandra did the same.

"Don't say too much," Damon said. "They'll be reading our body language and emotions much more closely than our words. Respect their ways and tread carefully."

"Will do," Lassandra replied. "I read about such places growing up, places in the galaxy that have been completely untouched by time. Never once did I think I'd end up in a place like this, vouching for my own freedom."

"If we come in humbled, showing them proper respect, they should let us go. It makes no sense for them to keep us here," said Damon.

"And yet they carry all authority here," said Lassandra. "This world stays untouched for a reason. We could be among the first Federation citizens to walk this path in centuries."

"Which is why we need to be extra careful."

Their utility packs, containing the last bits of Federation technology, were now behind them. The High Templar Council would judge them strictly on character. Damon and Larissa both hoped that no wrong words would be said by the other. One poorly timed phrase could mean sudden death for both of them.

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

What Was Needed



What Was Needed (2016)


Epochs unfolding swiftly
Glow wild with desire

Everything in between is a dream - 
Only the single moment exists

Reach and reach for something
Once it is yours, it is no more

Longingly wait for something
You never truly needed



Monday, October 24, 2016

The Shaman of Intaria



The Shaman of Intaria


Intaria, the center of all activity in the Galactic Federation, was experiencing unprecedented economic growth. Peace had finally been made with the kingdoms occupying the Grey Zone. They were left mostly to their own devices and political discourse. After the final treaty was signed, approximately half of the Milky Way fell under Federation control. The reclusive shaman Imball felt a new balance of power coming to the galaxy in his deep sessions of meditation and drug induced trance. Through the ingestion of powerful psychoactive substances he could feel the very core of civilized awareness as it shifted into a more stable position. Trade routes that went through the outer worlds still experienced the occasional attack of marauders, but all in all, peace and order were much restored.

Imball was preparing a new concoction in his tiny apartment when two unexpected guests arrived. They were a young couple, Imball thought that perhaps they were responding to his informational ad regarding spiritual readings and life guidance. He did not get many responses to his ads.

"Greetings, truth seekers, I am Imball," he said as he opened the door.

"Hello. I'm Damon, this is my wife Larissa," said the cleanly dressed man standing in the threshold.

"Welcome to my independent cosmic temple. It is here I study the spirit of the cosmos itself! If you have deep questions I shall attempt to answer them," said Imball.

The couple made their way through the small front door down the crowded hallway. Extremely rare relics and artifacts from several ancient civilizations adorned the walls and ceiling. They looked out of place, very aged, almost impossible to find in the contemporary age of civilization. The galaxy had undergone a vast transformation upon the discovery and implementation of hyperspatial science. Travel times between even the most distant of stars shrank down to mere days. Terraforming became the norm for human colonization and expansion. Planets that were deemed hospitable, or close to it, were populated with fractal-based hyperpsatial machines which functioned outside of the normal parameters of tangible space. They then worked to transform the terrain and atmosphere atom-by-atom until the planet's composition closely resembled the one of Earth - humanity's original home. In this manner the human civilization spread to nearly every habitable world in the galaxy and in turn made that world close to ideal, according to their liking. People of old religious orders criticized this system, claiming it played with God and destroyed the indigenous life forms of the planets. As the generations turned over, these opponents were driven to the fringes of galactic society. It was apparent that advanced technology and the molding of entire star systems was the natural course of humanity's progress.

Imball led Damon and Larissa into his cramped dining room, which also served as his psychedelic meditation chamber. He opened a small felt bundle and sniffed some of the powder that came out of it.

"I will enter trance shortly, please state your question," Imball said.

Larissa then spoke.

"We have a large life decision to make. We are torn between staying here on Intaria and joining a Federation corps to travel the stars as crewmembers on a commercial trade ship. We've pondered the possible outcomes of both decisions, and both paths have their upsides as well as their potential pitfalls. We've come to ask you, which path in your view is the most spiritually sound?"

"Ah, so you do not want to lose yourselves in the business of space, and yet you do not want to feel stagnant," said Imball. "Smoke a bit from this cigarette here, it will align the planes of our nervous systems to a more tranquil state."

Imball gave them a tightly wrapped cigarette to share. He did not say exactly what was in it. Damon and Larissa complied with the old shaman's request and smoked it in turns.

"Now relax yourselves, focus on your breathing pattern, enter a clear state of mind. The substance I took is much stronger than yours and I will be in trance soon. Focus on the spiritual aspect of your lives, think slowly and calmly.

And with that Imball leaned back in his chair, gave out a large exhale, and entered a deep meditative trance. Damon and Larissa cleared their minds with the aid of the mild relaxant in their cigarette. Outside the window the traffic from the industrial district buzzed with life. A large freighter drifted silently across the sky as its shadow quickly skimmed the facade of the apartment building. Inside the atmosphere was calm and introspective. Damon and Larissa patiently waited for the shaman's response.




Thursday, October 20, 2016

Autumnal Ghosts


Autumnal Ghosts (2016)


Blessed by specters cadenced on the past
We look forth into the coming winter
Winds turn colder each morning
And each night the summer rings more distant

We look into yesteryear
To find tomorrow's light
We look into ourselves
To find our cosmic blessing

Through the hauntingly empty trees
We see all paths that could have been
In them we see a reflection of ourselves
Bending, but not breaking, in time's eternal wind



Sunday, October 16, 2016

Regret and Desire



Regret and Desire (2016)


Letting go of both regret and desire is an instrumental component of living a more complete life in the Information Age of the 21st Century. The contemporary world is a whirlwind of information and possessions. Dark moments of a person's past and a person's internal desire to continue acquiring material wealth can blur his or her perception of the current moment. The beauty of the current moment can be quickly lost in a cloud of regret and desire. Too much precious time is wasted on contemplating what could have been instead of what currently is. In a similar manner, much time is wasted on contemplating the pursuits of unattainable desires such as unnecessary luxury goods.

A person who achieves the goal of forfeiting both regret and desire will appreciate the beauty of the current moment more than a person who is living a life stuck in the past (regret) or a life stuck in an imaginary future which may never come true (desire). Also, the pursuit of cosmic wealth (art, literature, music, aesthetics) is much easier when regret and desire are disposed of. In this state of being the creative centers of the mind are brought into a more active and lucid state, allowing for both the creation and the appreciation of intangible cosmic wealth.

Pursuers of material wealth (tangible goods, income, money) could argue that the desire for more is what drives much of the productivity in many economies, which is true to a degree, but a pursuer of cosmic wealth can say:

"At what point does the pursuit of material wealth drown out a life entirely?"

It is fine for a person to proudly work for a living and to be proud of his or her material possessions, but the dedication of an entire life to material wealth will result in an inevitable decay of the spirit.

Letting go of regret and desire is an instrumental part of allowing the human spirit to flourish.