it's back again

[Sepia]

I was waiting for dow jones to soar, they said it'd be today. Star spangled banners and a bald eagle flying overhead singing amazing grace through megaphones and nothing would be rusty anymore, it'd just be 1950s america seen through a nice and shiny chrome plates 8mm camcorder and all legs and all arms would move in synch, for the dow jones would soar.

[Sepia]

Chapter: Mental intermission


"Are we the last living souls?"
-Gorillaz


So I take her arm and I move, circular, making something in the progress, unknown, like all of it is and he's there I see him there in the threshold and words have double meanings again and it feels like i've been drugged with key23 and it all makes so fucking sense but I let it slide for sense was never my part to play in this world and he's standing there and like the end of brave new world, this is not the monster, this is not the monster and we're headed for him, his eyes, the piano dies and the strings reattach themselves and they're making a tune for us, they're playing for us in this action sequence when we dart away, we're the last of all humanity and there's a mad bonegrinder and a mad arab who doesn't really exist and they possess the answers and we run away out of the room the dust of knuckles still clinging in our nostrils and there's suddenly sun there's weather on the outside and the dust is blowing and we're back where we always were we were always here in the wild west and it didn't change only our perceptions of it and we twisted it perverted it and we were those who hung him up on his cross.

We're in business and we're running, streams of colour linger for seconds before following us, we rocket scientists on crackspeedcocaine and we're fucking a mule on lsd and noone could catch us now because the strings move towards crescendo and it's in sight all of humanity is in sight and that's where we're headed, it's only us and the future of the entire planet and we're the new adam and eve but noone will ever know us as adam or eve or noone because here, gods will not be allowed to exist and we're in the garden of eden once more and litter's on the streets and everyone's dead and we love them for it and the violins are closing in this is where we're headed and we meet them and violins head up on it and about it and this is where we never saw it until it hit crescendo.

[Sepia]

Chapter: What number again?


Pale light hits me on the outside, a moment to remember the sun and it's bleak. Dreary. This is the wasteland, this is the world as it always was but now the thin veil has been lifted. Or a heavier one have made its' entrance.

And I stand there, on the outside of that dark and demonish hut, on this town square. I am watching the sky, hoping for a sign, now that i'm the only human alive. All I ever wanted was a fucking pepsi.

I turn around, rustles of feet and there they are. Her, him and it, staring at me telling me things with their eyes and telling me that they are right and they know this and their lips move in synch and they tell me, we are the future. you are the future if you want. They tell me that this is a tale, an adventure. They're telling me that they want to reprogram the entire human species, they tell me that I can decide it. I can return to a status quo and go back again or I can do something else, something never tried before. Erasing all memories from all humans everywhere. Creating something from scratch, they don't know they say how it would work. But it'd be change and it would be something new and different and their words chime in my ears and they are god and I--


-
That's probably it for the summer. I'll probably pop back to see who hoshi matched me with. And I'll revise and remake this story. SUMMER FOR FUCKS GLORY SAKE!

Have a good one, darlings.

[LMNO]

::Waves so long to Sepia::

Thanks for ending the story so succinctly!

[Sepia]

I'm calling it a barberstrike, a concussional fight to redeem myself and my tags and motion catches me off guard, snarling like a beast and a burden and now i'm the prey.

thrivers drive me far and then across before seeing and then redeeming,me, leaving it aside like a tear running through an ashen valley of tormented bees trying to find their hive

but

it's


not

left



anymore


and the future seems dreary because all that was ever left was the last fifth and it's gone nowhere but it's not in my belly and the sand and the dust and the shit makes me wannahave a drink so i'm downing imaginary shots of polish whiskey and the caramellic flavour makes me want to drink: water.

and I stepped up and over to him, the man, sitting there, the man, sitting there with a can of gasoline and a book of matches, outside an embassy and the people, the guards, toting mp5s with no security and they won't fire blanks on this day because the bald eagle will weep for all of us, yet, the mouse said to the owl: they stand.

a motionous blur torches the man with a towel for a head and he's serene and the jocks with the mp5s are suddenly in the company of some head of state and they're laughing


serenely


of the man who just doesn't get it, there, draped in flames and violent emotions.

then there is nothing left of the man only tears in the ash and it's the guards, they're laughing still of the man on fire and the cry and their laughter and they cry and it's their laughter and the tears laugh.


meanwhile, someone snuck in.

[Sepia]

Everything is still nothing as it changes.

Two small punkboys stand there, the blitz rains and they're trying to be like they used to be because that's what everyone told them, be yourselves, and they think about the time when they started a band, ages ago, in some garage with nicked equipment and all they ever did was being angry.

They tattooed themselves, got drunk too many times to count with half a brain, pierced themselves, did stupid things but never stopped to think it through. Why did I slap her? Why did I smear coke in her cunt when she didn't want to fuck me?

These items were written off as 'stupid things i did when drunk, they happen' and were repeated. So they stand there, in the blitzrain, celebrities because they've raped their way forth.

Technically, a judge said, if a woman is loosely dressed and passes out, it is her own responsibilty. The flesh and desire is indeed powerful.
Standing ovations from people who didn't know, didn't want to know, but were trapped in the courtroom for the day because of a job or something quite similar. These people didn't care, they did what everyone else did and everyone else was just like themselves so they cheered. It is easier to cheer than to critisize. Then they went home to their cliche homes and leftwingwriters told yet another cliche story about the white methaddicted trailertrash that married their sisters said oh golly and interpreted the amendment regarding guns as their own personal right to maintain an integral state of their own in their trailer.

Then, as the boys strode along the reddish carpet and the blitz rained and they were themselves, small and innocent and angry and far from intelligent or with a passion or a soul, a leftwingwriter could be seen, jumping over the policeblockade with a pen in his right hand and he stabbed the two members of the band, repeatedly, before a should-have-been-dead moviestar broke his arm and said 'that's how we bring 'em down texas style' and the writer laughed.

The police asked why.

The writer politely and as calm as a sheep answered: I'm tired. I'm sick and tired of stereotyping these bastards and then suddenly I realize I'm not. Many of these are glorious people in their own ways, but all humans are golden. I can no longer tolerate the men and women of this country that does not wish to fly like icarus flew. I can no longer tolerate the lack of innovation.
I grew up like them. I'm trailertrash. I've been there and I respect no man that can't get out of it when I could.

And this is why you stabbed the singer and the bassplayer of a popular punkband?

IT WASNT A FUCKING PUNKBAND. Punk died when the first time someone thought let's make money outta this, it's not about what the fuck you wear, how much of your skin is pierced or mutilated or burned and the fuck not anything about the body. It's in your fucking head. It's a mindset. It doesn't change, it evolves. It makes something out of nothing. It's like everything else.
Many people say the hippies betrayed their beliefs, but they weren't hippies. The people that strolled around naked and smoked their fucking minds out with ganja weren't hippies, or, they were, and the others were something else.
There's followers to every cult and sect and sometimes it becomes a fashionobject and people with power are always incompetent.

There's a smokescreen. Someone says 'oi! dirty hippie' and you know what you look for because you are prejudiced no matter how welleducated or welldrugged you are.

You're fuckall and you too. Now, take me to the chair.

As he was lead from the precinct house to the van that would transport him further, the blitz rained and he bathed in the radiant sense of universal irony.

[LMNO]

Rah.

TCT would also say Rah.

Just predictin'.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

IT WASNT A FUCKING PUNKBAND. Punk died when the first time someone thought let's make money outta this,

A punk-elitist.

Now I've seen it ALL.

[East Coast Hustle]

Sepia, my boy, you are truly a fine human being. I truly hope that you manage to hold off on raping and killing your way into incarceration until after I've moved to Sweden and we've had a proper chance to get drunk and doped up and catch an INC show.




p.s. Roger: does your cynicism know no bounds?

[Sepia]

IT WASNT A FUCKING PUNKBAND. Punk died when the first time someone thought let's make money outta this,

A punk-elitist.

Now I've seen it ALL.

Damn, you're right. And thanks for pointing it out rog. Further!

still thanking for the kind words.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

p.s. Roger: does your cynicism know no bounds?

No.  I almost disbelieved myself out of existence.

TGRR,
Will achieve that, one fine day.

[nurbldoff]

Sepia, my boy, you are truly a fine human being. I truly hope that you manage to hold off on raping and killing your way into incarceration until after I've moved to Sweden and we've had a proper chance to get drunk and doped up and catch an INC show.

Now why would you want to move to Sweden? Not that I think it might be a slight improvement, but still...

I'm scared. :P

[Horab Fibslager]

teh enlargened chicken breasts of course.

[ATTN:]

Sweden is one of two civilized nations left on earth.

[Horab Fibslager]

especially when you consider bestiality a hall mark of civilization.


that being said, it can't really be any worse than the rest of europe, sexually deviance wise, and umm, at least the got the swiss army!!! or is that switzerland. fuck :/