David Ceballos Portfolio

Red

Tonight, my hand in yours

my eye, black and blue

like a swollen berry

ripe for the picking

held comfortably

in your hand

your bracelet, glared

the sunset, reflecting

our many moods

The streetlight

flickers on

following the sun

set, as it rises

the warmth of your embrace

heart beating, blood pulsing

like small paint splatters

on a cardboard canvas

without it thinning

And

I swell like an apple

bruised and beaten

from the forest, falling

into nature's warm embrace

feeling a sudden coolness

the fresh dew, after a long drought

coming now and new, as a rainstorm

without the damaging touch of man

your nurturing touch, a warm embrace

Lying here

seemingly forever

time ticks on, but

this embrace lasts

like the growing grass

on the front lawn

small green fibers

constantly growing, despite

oppressive impressions

Growing

under the cool shade

of tall trees, suffocating

without realizing

like mice, trapped in the wall

Dusty, and cramped

forever following

the light of life

inevitably, falling

like the warm rain

drizzling, summer's night

warm, dark, and cool

refreshing water

Back in the forest

smelling the wet dirt

inhabiting the air, everywhere

stepping on the fallen

wet berries

popping

the little noises, gushing

open, like a water balloon

streaming down

the side of my face

Red

like fire, warm

But messy, leaving

behind a trail

Crimson Red

running down the creek

Copper water

the taste of life

and death

awaiting the seasons' turn

My hand in yours

all the night

all the while, the spinning

stops, the earth stands still

your shadow, covering me

like a lunar eclipse

darkening, silently

Then

I collapse, into

warm branches, desperately

holding me close

like a fallen bird, feathers

entangled in its own wings

the healing touch of nature, like

mother, warm and loving

the earth stops, the sun

rises, the moon, sets

Lying here, in the dew

of the lawn, comfy

like a meadow, in

your arms, concussed

but conscious

I see you, finally

your teary eyes

your sudden smile

I love you

Silence of the Black Lamb

With every second that passes, I find myself getting all the more anxious, time seems to have stopped altogether, but with every car zooming by I am reassured that it hasn't. Everything has gone wrong this morning, immigration almost sent me back to the states, my backpack was stolen, the car I rented has a flat, and I'm feeling ill. I can't let this journey be for nothing, I've come too far and worked too hard to lose everything. But as I stand here, corrupted with anxiety and nausea, I feel a sudden burst in my chest. I can't tell whether I'm actually feeling pain, or if it's all in my head. It feels all too real, with every breath I take, it seems as if my lungs are about to collapse.

Everything that's happening at this moment, everything that has lead up to this moment, I can't let it be in vain. My legs want to collapse, but my mind is telling them to stay in place. This feels like an eternity, I don't want to continue, but I don't want to return. I want this moment to last forever, yet I want it to end immediately as well. Every passing second is ripping away at me, and making me question my sanity. Why did I come here? I know the answer, but like a shy kid in school, I wonder if it's wrong. Just go, I've been working for this my entire life. I know, but I don't know if I'm good enough. And with that answer, the voices in my head fell silent. For a second, I thought that I finally had control, but it was immediately lost to him. He'd always find a way back, returning as a wolf in sheep's clothing. Praying that I was rid of him, but he always found a way to escape the cerebral cell. Carefully planting seeds of doubt and insecurity, patiently waiting for them to sprout and free him of his captivity. He was the black lamb born in head, and his impurity is what has my mind tainted. Like a puppet master, pulling the strings of my thoughts, he had control. Unbelievable, I lost control of myself to myself. Ever since then, the night mother and father passed, with their death, came his birth. I stood on the very stones that ran with my parents’ blood, but I didn't feel sad, I wasn't full of rage. I was empty, he buried my feelings, hiding my true self. Any sane person would think that I was alone that night, but he was with me, taking control of my mind for the first time, he spent that night learning every secret of his new home. That night he spoke for the first time, speaking in my voice, saying, I look forward to breaking you. He wants to break me, he wants to break us.

Why are you even here? You've failed at everything else, do you honestly believe that you can convince them to take you? You're the biggest fool I've ever seen. Not only are you giving up, but you can't even muster up the courage to try. I have officially lost what little respect for you I had. You should be ashamed of yourself, just turn back now. There's no point in continuing if you're not confident enough, but what could I have expected from you, you're a quitter. Just do us all a favor and give up on everything, you know you'll never amount to anything. Trust me. After all, I am the only logical one in here.

Maybe he's right, maybe I am a quitter. I always find an excuse, even if I don't want to. It seems to always find me, a new way to give up on new opportunities, a new way to ensure that my life stay as miserable and boring as it has been for years now. I shouldn't bother them, they only want the best, and they deserve it. They've worked for years now to ensure that they only get the best, because that's their unofficial slogan, "the best deserve the best, and nothing less". They want the Elites, and only the Elites, nothing more, nothing less, only the best.

I've worked so hard, but now I can see it. He was right, I'm not Elite. They don't want me, but I still want to be there, and there's nothing wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with that, and there's nothing wrong with me. All I want is a taste of what I worked for. I have nothing left to sell them, I've given them everything that was asked of me, and then some. I want a sign, but I know I'm right. For once in my life, I know. I believe, I believe in myself. I don't need to assess the situation anymore. I don't need the courage that comes in the form of Gin. I'm not going to be the low speaker in my conversation, not anymore. This eternity has ended, and a new one will begin.

With every second that passes, I can grow stronger, I grow more confident. This is my rebirth, this is the beginning of a new era. I have finally returned to reality, I need to fulfill my destiny, I'm going to destroy the dynasty of doubt, and finally reach Nirvana. I'm ready, all that stands in my way is the wait to cross the street. Today, I will cross that street and sweep them off their feet. All I have to do is cross the street.

My Dear Alice

It was a Thursday afternoon when I first caught a glimpse of you. Feeding the birds scraps of your sandwich, you had the most beautiful smile running across your face. I wish I would have asked for more than just directions. That was the greatest minute of my life, and I'm glad I stayed across the pond. I had the perfect view of you as you sat on the bench reading about your adventures in Wonderland. I hope that I didn't make you late for tea as a result of my question, my apologies for not knowing the directions to the pond. I know that I only asked "which way", but I hope that next time I fall down the rabbit hole and run across you. You have a beautiful smile, and I'm ecstatic that I made you giggle at the sight of my hat. It was weird looking one, aged yet new, but it was my hat, I would have loved to fit you with a hat that would compliment your lovely blonde hair, maybe one day. You're beauty has me mad, it's driving me crazy. Maybe one day I will see you again. I hope you'll recognize this mad hatter, dressed in only a hat, vest, dark pants, and covered in tattoos, one of which is a stopwatch inked on my right wrist. That one seemed to catch your attention, were you perhaps checking the time, or at least trying to? I hope I didn't make you late for tea. I'll be walking the round at the park every afternoon, maybe next time I can come over for tea Alice.

To The Hatter

It seems like an eternity since I last saw you, my handsome hatter. I remember that day fondly, I sat there reading about your Wonderland when you approached me. Covered in tattoos and fitted with the most darling hat I've ever laid my eyes on. I hope that I didn't come off as scared or shocked by your appearance, for I found you dressed most charming. Even though you only asked me for directions to the pond, I wish I had the courage to ask why you were going. Your hat was beautifully made, I regret not asking where you got it. I would have liked one for myself, one that would compliment me as much as it does you. Like a child, I was too worried, too anxious, I didn't want to say anything embarrassing, anything that would make you think less of me, my dear hatter. I'm starting to drive myself mad, I was too childish in my behavior and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being courageous enough to spark up a conversation with you, instead I read and fed the birds scraps of a sandwich. I wish I made the conversation last longer. If only I asked about the darling stopwatch inked upon your wrist, maybe it would have led to a conversation. Maybe that conversation would have led to a friendship, and maybe that friendship would have led to an Adventure in Wonderland.

The Call to the Void

The more people you love, the weaker you are. No truer words have ever been said. My mixed feelings about this still sway more towards agreeing with that sentence. Why? I don' really know. In all honesty, I think that it's because love will, in the end, drag you down. But that's really only in negative scenarios. In catastrophes, tragedies, chaos, you get the point. Think about it. If you in an end of the world scenario, with limited supplies, how do you decide who among your loved ones deserves to live or die. You can't, and for those of you that attest this, and believe in self sacrificing in order to save the others, don't kid yourself. Everyone knows that you will ensure your own survival. Because at the end of the day, that is what it is. Survival. That's when you need to give in to yourself, your primal instincts. You need to become the animal, the monster that hides under your bed. You need to embrace the other side, you need to answer the call to the void. We all have that, the little voice that tells you what bad thing you could do and get away with, we all have experienced this. And in these scenarios, that's who needs to be put in charge, because morality is what gets you killed at the end of the day. Survival doesn't believe in morality, or a code of conduct. In order to survive, you have to come for blood, no law, no rules. You need to be ruthless, just like mother nature. Because at the end of the day, that's who we come from. Nature, we are all animals, humanity is just a species. That's it, much like how dolphins are a species, they are still animals, no matter how intelligent or beautiful, everything will return to its primal origins and answer the call to the void to ensure its survival. While you may not agree with me, that really doesn't matter, just think about how far your limits can be pushed before you break.

Paradox

Chaos and Order, while always considered polar opposites, their true connection lies underneath a vast layer of woven lies. These star crossed lovers can only exist together, and that’s the fact of the matter. Without Chaos, Order cannot exist, and without Order, Chaos fails to thrive. Their differences are what held them together. Imagine a world without order, naturally you’d assume it’d be Chaotic, but that’s false. For how can one know what Chaos is without the existence of Order? It’s an impossibility, contrastingly, imagine a world of Order, you can’t, why? Because in order for their to be Order, you first need Chaos, you need a problem to control. Their relationship is much like how a scientific theory is tested. Chaos and Order are a hypothesis. If you don’t have Chaos, then can there be Order? If you solely have Order, then where do the world’s problems come from? Anarchy and Discipline, Darkness and Light, Love and Hate, Life and Death, all of these the spawns of the original duo, Chaos and Order, for what is one without the other? Nothing. Without them, the world cannot exist, how can there be life without either? It’s an impossibility. The only thing that would exist without Chaos and Order would be Time and Space, but even then, that is still wrong. Why? Because Time is a human construct. All that would be left is Space. Vast and Empty, Space would now become a black hole, sucking up whatever it can. But at the same time, Space would be nothing, because without substance then Space doesn’t exist. Similar to how a black hole relies on substance in order to exist, Space relies on Chaos and Order. Without Chaos and Order nothing could have been created. The Big Bang, the ultimate ideal of Chaos, a giant explosion, and from that Chaos came Order, the elements, galaxies, planets, and man. What is Chaos’ greatest Construct? Order. And Orders’? Chaos. They are, in and of each other, fully dependent on one another.

Thievery

Thievery has never been a part of my life. I grew up as an average American. An only child that excelled in school and aimed to graduate college with high honors and become a nationally ranked physician. But that all changed during my final year at Georgetown. That's when she came into my life. We met in our elective course, a study of ancient japan, that's how it started. A common interest. And from their our friendship became more, we became extremely close friends, until I discovered her true colors. She was a thief, but not like any ordinary burglar or robber, she was different, she looked so sweet and innocent, and she used that to her advantage. Seducing guards, alarm systems, even me. She finally got to me. After months of dating, she pulled me into this life, like a shark pulling you underwater, from afar it'd seem rough and ruthless, but from my perspective it was swift and elegant. That was her talent, but what could you expect from someone who's always been on their own. Never having a real family, never having someone to care for you, someone to love you. That's what she was after, love. That was her final goal, to leave this life behind and live a boring, simple middle-class life. I was her final heist, her final goal, the key to her success. She had finally stolen my heart.

If You Love Me, Let Me Go…

With every heartbeat I grow weaker. This feeling of adrenaline, it's not natural, I can feel the pierce in my skin. The burning sensation coursing through my veins, the blackening of my lungs, and the light fading in and out of my eyes. Topped with the screams, your worries, they grow louder with every beat of my heart. Your heart, the one we share, I can feel it beating for mine. You don't want this, but I do. I want it, I want Peace, I want the Darkness, I want the Chaos that comes. The Aftermath, the flooding of memories, mine and yours, that either make or break my memory. I can feel the light fading, yet I feel its presence consume my being. This is the beat of my heart. The Inevitability, the screams begin to fade with the heartbeat, I was consumed by the light, but am now enamored with the darkness. It's so close I can taste it, I'm greeted with the Great Gates, but I know what expects me. Perpetually falling, the everlasting sensation it's a new type of Vertigo, the ironic fall that will only lead to my rise. My Rise to the Top of the Bottom. an eternity of falling passed, the hardest part is over, I've done my time and served my sentence, so dress me up and watch me die. "Welcome to the End of Eras" hangs above the Gate, as rusted gold, my Dynasty has been Decapitated. Mortal Kings are ruling my castle, this is the way I've been welcomed to my world of fun. The kingdom is refusing me, it is indeed the end of eras, I've been decapitated. I've been left with nothing, as worthless as the brimstone and the empty valley I'm surrounded by.

Sycophants on velvet sofas, My Lavish Mansion, and Vintage Wine, I am so much more than Royal, I have to make it mine, if it feels good, tastes good, so it must be. Heroes always get remembered, but you know damn well that legends never die. I'm taking back the crown. I'm dressed, yet naked without it. The crown, so close I can taste it, but these gates refuse to open for their master. Without me this place has become "finders keepers, losers weepers" they see what's mine and take it. All these years. They've been avoiding their punishment, my punishment, yet they've been planning, awaiting my fury. All is wrong, flowers are blooming, ice is melting back to life, chaos has become order, the prison has become a playground, but fret not, for the warden will have none of it, none of this. I'm taking it all back, the crown, the chaos, the caliginosity, these liars will settle into their sockets, flip the switch and I'll watch them burn.

An alternate route, I need to escape this tragedy. This is your fault. No. This is my fault. This battle rages on. I know that I won't see you through the smoke and flames, not yet anyway. But I will stand my ground until the end, until I conquer them all, until I reclaim my kingdom. But I need you to leave me be. I want you to hate me, I need you to resent me. Loathe me! Antagonize me! I need your animosity. I can' t enter without you, yet you can't go with me. Tell me, do you feel responsible for my death? Or does your anger outweigh your guilt? You have learned to bury your guilt with anger, but you must confront it and face the truth. My death was not your fault, anger does not change that fact. You're stronger than me, I know the rage that drives you. That impossible anger strangling the grief until the memory of your loved ones is just poison in your veins. Then you catch yourself wishing that the person you loved had never existed, so you'd be spared your pain. But please, if you love me, let me go...

Edward Hopper

As the candle's flame flickered on the windowsill, everyone including Rudolph, sat in complete silence. Hours and hours passed as we sat in silence morning the lost of our dear friend Frosty. The three of us just sat there, reminiscing, remembering her for who she truly was, a killer. I should have known that she was going to go through with it. Today didn't start like most day, today started off bleak and quiet, although everyone woke up around the same time, nobody said a word to each other. I understood why, but it still felt out of place, everyone was preparing, but not the way they normally would. Boomstick wasn't polishing his shotgun like he usually did before a job, Rudolph wasn't anxiously chewing on toothpick, and I wasn't staring at my own reflection in the mirror as I did before we went out. Everyone was acting strangely, I didn't know it then, but it was because of Frosty. It was her first job, and although she had been training in anticipation, we didn't want her to be a part of this life. She was smart, cheerful, and kind, but all that seemed to change the second she joined up.

I remember that day, as I stood outside on the porch she approached. We silently stood there looking out into the horizon, watching the sun set. And that's when she first told me that she knew. Naturally I denied everything, as that's what Rudolph told me to do, he didn't want his sister in this life. I don't blame him, a sweet girl like her wasn't meant to be a criminal. And although I had no intention of bringing her into this life, she forced my hand. I still remember the way she said it, cold and heartless.

"Grimm, If you won't teach me, I'll find someone that will, and if something happens to me, Johnny will have you killed!"

She was right, of course, ironically his brotherly love is what would get me killed if I didn't comply. I couldn't stop her, but I could delay any progression she made. We started off small, shoplifting, a few muggings, and pickpocketing. All eventually leading to robbing stores, boosting cars, and even a couple of home invasions. This all led to an inevitability that I choose to ignore, she surpassed me. Daily challenges of who can pick a lock faster, or who can steal the most amount of money within the hour, were all won by her in what seemed to be mere seconds. She could pick a lock twice as fast as me, pickpocket three times the amount of money I could, and eventually she became a better shot than I. But that's when things took a turn for the worse she seemed to have sparked in interest in gun violence, she always left the house with one, she was always cleaning it, she even took it to sleep.

Of course this is what led to her wanting in on a job. And that's the reason we let her ride along today. After hours of fighting, Rudolph finally agreed to let her come along with the understanding that she remain in the car with me. She was to learn only, and although she agreed, I knew nothing would stop her from joining in on the action. I mean after all, that's where the real lesson begins. Not across the street looking through the windows from the inside of a van, no you learned from experience. You learned from the blood, sweat, and tears of the innocent. You learned from the screams of the innocent, the look of terror in their eyes, you learned by becoming their worst nightmare. That's exactly what she wanted, to embrace the other side, she wanted to be the stuff nightmares are made of. And that's the reason she gone now, because she wanted to become a monster. I could've stopped her, but then I'd be dead too. I saw the look in her eyes the second she left the van and ran inside, she was out for blood. The second she ran in that bank, it was a manslaughter. She grabbed Boomstick's shotgun out of his hands and the slaughter began. Boomstick tried to stop her, but she turned the gun on him and threatened to end his life. He firsthand witnessed the monster she became. The monster I created.

I knew that I was the only one that could stop her, and as Rudolph and Boomstick watched in awe as our once small Alice continued her killing I snuck into the bank through the back and activated the silent alarm. I ran back to the van and drove back to the house as I could hear the authorities behind me. The sirens sound went silent as I drove off. It was just me now. I waited at home alone, for the outcome of that event. Hours upon hours passed, and I soon began to think that they all died. I thought that I killed them. But then they came in. Both Boomstick and Rudolph arrived unscathed, and emotionless. As Rudolph approached, I expected him to knock me to the ground for abandoning them. I didn't expect him to hug and thank me. He knew that I pulled that alarm, and although I got his sister killed, he was thankful. He knew what she was and that there was only one way to stop her. He knew that she wouldn't stop, that she'd continue her rampage for the rest of her life if given the chance. There was only one way for her to leave this life, and that was through death. She was a Monster, and I was the Reaper.

Memoir

How did it end? With a fever, a rage, a seemingly unthinkable action that broke my chains. It was as simple as it was unbelievable. I left. Like Scar said to Simba, "leave and never return" but it wasn't easy, it didn't feel real. I couldn't tell if this was real life or a fantasy I created, but I had finally escaped that reality, that dim, dark, delusional reality. What triggered this prison break? Isn't it obvious, I was being choked, strangled, suffocated, everything I was creating began suffering. It wasn't a bad job though, but I still don't regret leaving. My anger outweighs any guilt I may have. A seemingly impossible anger strangling me, until my creativity began suffering as a result. It wasn't anyone's fault but my own. I failed to act, I took too long. I worked as I was told, completing every task with ease, but at what cost? It was my own fault, but I refuse to relapse back to that mindless, soul crushing state. I remember that night quite fondly, I never felt more free. I just ran out of that building the moment they handed me my last paycheck, jumped into my car and sped away. It was time for me to take a chance, I rolled down my windows, blasted P!TD, and flipped off the empty parking lot as I left. It was glorious, the brisk night's air, the passing neon lights, and the Live in Denver album blasting at full volume. Just for the record, there's nothing wrong with my former coworkers, but I just wasn't a good fit for that job. As much as I tried to fight it, that job took the fight from me. Even earning a spot as employee of the month wasn't enough to satisfy me. I literally did the opposite of what I love, I "destroyed". Don't believe me? What does a janitor do? He "destroys" the art created in a day's work. That realization broke me, I couldn't take it "one day at a time", It just took me one step closer to hell. That's essentially what it was, my own personal hell. I was alone in this soul sucking section that I was forced to clean. I would've rather slept through the end of the world, or be buried alive, I had to be let go somehow. That job was like a dull knife, that left some deep scars, but truth be told, I'm grateful for the horrendous experience. It taught me that I don't belong to anyone or anything, that fear of falling apart, it enabled me to think more about myself for once. Have you ever had a job that really just drained the energy out of you? We've all been there, that cesspool that drains your soul, ages you, and really just breaks you down. It's almost like there are jobs specifically designed to be soul drainers. The interesting thing is though that these jobs drain us all in different ways. For me, it was the boredom. That's right, the boredom. I'd honestly rather be forced to do the most painful, disgusting, impossible job ever, as long as it wasn't boring. Now don't get me wrong, the job wasn't physically demanding, in fact it was the easiest paycheck I've ever earned, but I just couldn't take it anymore. The boredom, the excruciating boredom that continued to kill my creativity until I finally quit. The thing is, I really can't just sit still and not do anything. Although I'll sit there quietly, my mind is always drifting into different worlds I've created, trying to find ways to bring them to life. That's the problem with this job, I couldn't put myself on autopilot. I just couldn't find that switch, it was impossible to drift off into my subconscious while simultaneously continuing to work in formation. Walk, breathe, check trash bag, throw trash in can, check recycling, (nothing) continue. This was my job, just check and throw away any trash that these dim cubicles had to offer. Walking through a maze of square boxes, collecting the day's waste. What a lonely, pitiful existence, but hey it's a living. Feeling like a used battery, barely operating at the end of the shift. Finishing a four hour shift in one and a half, and slowly sulking through the long narrow corridors until the clock hit ten. Walking and walking, navigating this maze, hoping for a new turn, hoping for something new. This was my existence for four hours a week. Slowly sulking, trying to get that black cloud off my back. Even with the bright fluorescent flickering of those office lights, it was still a chore to lift my feet off the ground for each step. With every flicker, a world was destroyed, the same way that Darth Vader destroyed Alderaan, the only difference of course being that I could rebuild, if I had the patience to do so. Walking, breathing, blinking, checking, continuing to hold onto something. These attempts were futile, of course, but I had to try, I had to force myself to make this job a game. Something, anything to kill this boredom. Did it work out? Of course not, why else would I have left?

Memoir II

It ended much like it started. Quiet and simple. You left as you came in, on your own terms. I can't figure it out, I still don't quite understand. What made you just leave like that? Was there a warning I missed or was it a spontaneous decision? It's not like this was a challenging job. You earned a decent wage, and even finished your work early. You were literally paid to sit on your ass for two hours, I mean what part of that doesn't sound amazing? You literally only had to take out the garbage which took about an hour and a half, and vacuum once a week. What's so difficult about any of that? I don't know, I'm not mad or anything, but you're the one of the few people here that did there work and didn't complain about any part of it, in fact you were the only one to ask what else you could do after you've finished. I know that this can be slow, but even then we all passed the time just walking around and talking or hanging out in the break room. It's interesting how even after weeks of being here, you weren't really all that comfortable. I know that now, you never became one of us. Never really embraced this simple existence, never complained about the job, never even asked to switch a job with someone. I would've thought for sure that you loved this job, I mean after all it was simpler than riding a bike.

Maybe that was the problem. It was simple. Walking the hallways, "cleaning", and then walking some more. There's never been much to it. We just do it, day in and day out. After all someone has to. Day one on the job, and you immediately started at your own pace, fast but meticulous, a seemingly impossible combination, but somehow, someway, you did it.

I'm still uncertain as to why you would've left. Not even an explanation, you just clocked out and zoomed away into the night blasting the radio and ignoring traffic regulations. That was a nice evening regardless, it was dark, but the warmth of the summer combined with the brisk wind you get from driving with the windows down must have been a great feeling. I think I get it now, this job wasn't challenging, it didn't have much to it, so it couldn't offer you anything. I guess I can see that, you want something more, something challenging, something with little more "umph". That's the difference between you and I, I'm comfortable with the simplicity, and you want to be able to look forward to something challenging, something worth complaining about. Right? That's got to be it. I mean why else would you ask for more work, it's not like you can complain about being bored. You should've just taken it one day at a time, even if you can't fix your feelings for something, maybe you could get used to it, or improve them slightly. This was a pretty lax workplace, you could've gotten away with not doing your work, I know I do. Nobody that's ever worked here ever broke a sweat, had their heartbeat increase, never complained about anything because this place doesn't tire your body. But I can see it now, it would tire your mind. This place, it really does drain you, mentally that is. It's almost like a leech, except that you don't generally realize it once you get used to it, it just because some type of emotional/mental slowing, you just start slowing down. That's why you left isn't it? You were feeling it, that slow burn that drains your energy little by little in small bursts of boredom.

Dream Big

Dream big. That's what Momma always told me. Work hard and dream big, but that hasn't really worked out well for me now has it? All of my "hard" work has brought me to this point. I lost it all, the business, my family, all of my "hard" earned money, and now look at me. I'm nothing more than a defeated man on the verge of self destruction. And why did this all happen? Well it's very simple actually. I played harder than I worked. I got by on my charm and intellect, and threw everything away on hard liquor, models, and cocaine. Where am I now? No where, yet everywhere. It might be the Tiger Blood in me, or maybe the ecstasy, hell I might just be crazy, but there's really no practical explanation as to why I'm in a high speed pursuit with the entirety of California's State Troopers on my tail. But hell, what a life. Now as I'm speeding my way down the coast, weaving in and out of oncoming traffic, I think that this is the most sane I've ever been. I'm clocking 160, but it's almost like I can see through time. Predicting where each car will go. They're all moving so slow, or I'm moving too fast. I don't know, but I have to keep moving. Faster, and Faster, maybe this is all a dream, or maybe I've reached a new "high". This sense of euphoria overwhelming the senses, and what exactly caused this? I have absolutely no idea! Last I remember, I was doing a line of cocaine with Johnny Depp. Oh what a night, and to think that was only a few hours ago. At least I’m going out in style. Am I going to miss it? What’s there to miss? An entire weekend packed with people at my home? From celebrities to strangers, high schoolers to elders, billionares and millionares? A bunch of dumb broads comparing their families wealth by my beach? Drunks losing money at the Roulette table? Obnoxiously loud music blasting until the sun rises? You bet I will! But who really cares anymore? It’s not like anyone loves me anymore anyway? After all, what people call “Love” is just a chemical reaction that compels animals to breed. And what’s worse, it hits hard and then slowly fades, leaving you in a failing marriage, or worse, High off a mix of cocaine, ecstasy, weed, and alcohol, with a syringe sticking out of your arm, while your driving stick, clocking 190 and being chased by the California State Troopers, ALL WHILE THE GOD DAMN SUN IS IN YOUR EYES! This is still pretty cool, but something's wrong. Did I leave the stove on? Yes. No! Wait, Yes! No... NO! Hmm… I wonder if Jay has opened yet? I’ll text him. Damn! My phone’s dead! Whatever I’ll just buy another one. I wonder if I can break that cops window with it? Screw it! Holy Hell! That was Awesome!! Ha Ha I’m totally going to jail! Wait! No I won’t! I’m a celebrity! They’ll just send my drugged up ass to Rehab! HA HA! OR Even Better! Maybe I can pull an OJ! Just gotta go faster! The more entertaining it is, the better! Oh I know! I always drive better when I’m really messed up! Where’d I put that baggie? What's that sign on that minivan's window say? Baby on board? Ok? So what? that's not gonna stop me from crashing into you! DAMN I MISSED! Eh, I’ll get’em next time. Ugh, I’m so bored! Why can’t they drive faster? And what’s this spotlight doing around my car? Oh my god. I’m on TV! Hi Mom! How long have they been there? I should do something crazy! Hmm… I know! The bridge is nearby! Maybe I can jump the lane that’s under construction. Yup! I’m going for it. Now! Let’s fast forward to the fun part! Oh and yes, that was totally a fourth wall break, I’m kind of surprised I didn’t do it earlier. Actually, I don’t think I introduced myself earlier! My name is Wade, please don’t mind the fact that I’m covered in blood and drugs, this happens more often than you’d think haha. Now! Would you care to continue on this epic adventure, or did you get bored already? Oh well, at least I'm still dreaming big. Thanks Momma.

Floating

Much like how sea otters are known to hold hands as they float, my existence relies on your love. Like a flower budding from the ruins of an ancient empire, I could not have grown to be the person I am now without you to hold me up. You are the refreshing water that spoils me with nutrients, the moon that controls my tides, the air underneath my wings. Throughout the entirety of this love affair, I given many attempts to live up to the level of love that you have set, but alas, I still feel inadequate. Always trying to bring out the sunshine that is your smile, I find that at this point in our relationship, I am in extreme need of it. Much like how children need their milk, or how an alcoholic needs his liquor, I need you. Even an evening of complete silence would be more than adequate if it could be in a room shared with you. Regardless of our differing beliefs, it can be proven that neither of us would have grown to be who we are now, without the challenges we make each other face. I hope to think that I inspire you, as much as you inspire me. Ironically, I would have settled for morsels, and this is what I get an unquestioned, undying, mutual affection.

Crystal

The ability to gaze into a crystal ball, and be granted the chance to see your deepest desires should not be taken for granted. Naturally one would want to see themselves, rewarded, loved, cherished, and even celebrated, but that's where one needs to be prepared. You need to be prepared for what you may face which could be anything. The orb has the power to choose what you may see, a death in the family, agonizing pain and humility, even the apocalypse. But that's where I am prepared, I am more than willing to make that sacrifice, in hopes of seeing a society that encourages true education. A society that does not recognize the theory of standardization, but rather emphasizes a new form of critical thinking. I am not one to wish to see myself as king of the world, undisputed, respected, saluted, and seen for the wonder I am, I am more relying on the hope that society would dispose of the current standards its placed upon itself. I want to see a world without war, where nature comes first, where we treat our animal brethren as they humanely, and where we are all rewarded with the equality deserved. Where injustice does not exist, where plague does not exist, where no one will go hungry, and where we all have everything we could possibly need. A utopia, a paradise.

Bruised Oranges

They say that a sack of oranges doesn't leave bruises, but I think that if you've been hit hard enough, there's still a mark left. Scars, bruises, burns, all different forms of the same thing. It doesn't matter how hard you hit someone really, what matters is the impact made. If a random stranger curses at you in public, it my ruin your day, but if a loved one curses at you, it can ruin your week. Even then, pain stems from several things, all of which are sins that we either inflict on others, or get inflicted on ourselves. This is the life we each lead, we're graced by two displays of character, those that inflict, and those that take. The irony of course being that both are one in the same, two peas in a pod. An interesting paradox, we choose to believe that we are all naturally good and would never hurt another living soul, but deep down we'd all do it in a heartbeat if the need presented itself. Like a dull blade cutting away at the soft skin we're sheathed with, life leaves scars. Scars that are acquired everyday through our own experiences. Some heal faster than others, but others last a lifetime, if not longer. Choking back tears, holding down your true emotions, it's almost as if those souls fear their own feelings, as if it's laced with nitroglycerin. We're all fearing for each other, yet at the same time we ourselves are the cancer that bring each other down. And I know that it doesn't feel like this life can leave us this desperately beaten, but the truth is is does. The true test of life, is not how you deal with the scars and bruises, but rather what you do in those brief commercial breaks of happiness that we're granted in order to heal, and to keep moving forward. This is the true test of will, seeing how many of us can make it to those brief breaks, deal with the tragedies and travesties we face, and push onward. All of it being reflected in our eyes. The windows to our souls, the galaxial mirror, that contributes to our own happiness and sadness.

Three Card Monty

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM. NIGHT 

We see a man sitting quietly in a dimly lit room at a table twiddling his thumbs. In front of him are a deck of cards and a map of the city. He waits patiently in the dim room as he awaits his interrogator.

DET. XAVIER walks in reading a file folder. 

MONTY

(expressionless and looking blankly at the table) Ya know it’s rude to not address a person when walking into a room. 

Xavier ignores Monty and continues to read the folder while circling him 

MONTY 

(jokingly) I like your pantsuit detective. Where’d ya get it? Nordstrom? Macys? No, wait! Was it Kohls? 

Xavier sits down across from Monty and continues reading 

MONTY 

(cont’d) (mockingly) What’s the problem X?! Not a fan of small talk? 

Xavier puts the folder down and blankly stares at Monty 

MONTY 

(cont’d) (angrily) Just because I’m chained up here doesn’t mean you can ignore me! 

Xavier grabs the map from the table.

XAVIER 

(sternly) Monty. Where is it? 

MONTY 

(excited) Ohhh!! I knew I’d getcha to say something! (laughing) The only problem is, I have no idea what you’re talking about. 

XAVIER 

You know damn well what I’m talking about. 

MONTY 

(cluelessly) Nope! All you did was ask where "it" is, until you define what "it" actually is, I’m afraid I’m completely useless... 

XAVIER 

(angrily) Where is the dirty bomb?!

Xavier slams the map down in front of Monty. 

MONTY 

(excited) Now we’re getting somewhere! (laughing) Unfortunately, detective, I can’t tell you that. It’d be too easy. I mean, after all, isn’t half the fun of domestic terrorism striking terror?! 

XAVIER 

There are people’s lives at stake! How can you possibly be happy about this?! 

MONTY 

(mockingly) Um, I’m a terrorist, that’s kinda my job. Clearly, you’re not very good at yours X. 

XAVIER 

(exhausted) Fine. What do you want? 

Monty holds his handcuffs up and Xavier removes them. 

MONTY 

(rubbing his wrists) Now isn’t that better? Monty grabs the deck of cards, removes the deck and starts shuffling it.

MONTY 

(cont’d) (shuffling cards) I’ll tell ya what kid, you seem like a nice girl. How about we play a game and if you win, I’ll tell you where the bomb is. (puts the cards down and sticks out his hand) Deal? 

XAVIER 

(hesitating) Deal. 

Monty and Xavier shake hands. Monty pulls out two Kings and a Queen. and places them face up on the table. 

MONTY 

(speaking in a 1940s news reporter voice) Alright, the game’s three card monte. All ya gotta do is find the lady! 

XAVIER 

Seriously? 3 card monte? I’ve beaten dozens of street hustlers before, what makes you so any different? 

MONTY 

(begins shuffling the cards) The difference Detective is that I like to add a little bit of flare! (starts chuckling) I don’t expect you to do well, so how about we go best of 5? Does that sound fair?

XAVIER 

(gritting her teeth)

Let’s just do this already. 

MONTY 

(stops shuffling) Alright, boss. Where’s the lady? 

Xavier points at the left card confidently, and Monty flips it, revealing it to be one of the Kings. 

MONTY 

(cont’d) Ohhhh, nice try, but don’t worry you still have four more chances.

XAVIER 

(angry) What are you planning?! What’s the point of all this?! 

MONTY 

(teasing) No, no, no! You have to play by the rules. You have to Find the Queen!! 

Monty begins shuffling the cards again. 

MONTY (cont’d) (stops shuffling) Alright, sweetheart! Where’s the Queen?! 

XAVIER 

(pointing at the center card) It’s that one. 

MONTY (flipping the card over) Good job! You found the hostage! Now let’s hope this Queen isn’t too much of a square and will let us keep playing! 

Monty starts a new game of three-card monte. 

MONTY 

(cont’d) (stops shuffling) Where is it? 

XAVIER She’s on the left. 

MONTY (flipping the left card) Nope! She’s landed on the center! You better hope you figure it out in time. 

XAVIER 

Figure what out? 

MONTY 

The game dummy. 

Monty shuffles the cards yet again. 

XAVIER 

She’s on the left. 

MONTY 

(speaking through his gritted teeth) No... She is in the Middle. (flips card over) 

Monty starts shuffling the cards again while staring menacingly at Xavier. 

MONTY 

(cont’d) (emotionless) Last chance. Where is the hostage? 

XAVIER 

She’s on the right. 

MONTY 

(angrily) WRONG! YOU IDIOT! SHE IS IN THE CENTER! THE HOSTAGE IS PARKED IN THE CENTER!! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?! THE QUEEN HAS ALWAYS BEEN LANDING IN THE CENTER! 

XAVIER 

The center? The Center. The Queen. Central Park. Central Park! (begins running away yelling) The bomb is in Central Park!! By the Queen’s statue!! 

Monty laughs to himself as Detective Xavier rushes out of the room. Monty then places the Queen card on the city map. The card marks where Queens’ Park and Central Landing meet.