Charity for the Blind

Charity for the Blind



The hills roll of into the distance, an orange hue bakes the skyline, and a slight wisp of cloud runs amok to meet the horizon. The blood soaked her shoes, but seemed clean compared to the events the past few months had dragged her through, she didn’t know enough to love, but was quite certain of one fact; she now knew enough to hate. To hate the hearts and souls of those who had cast their shadows on her world. The ones who held her in the dark for days without food, oh and the noise, the noise, the lack of anything close to resembling physical boundaries, violated in all notions of the word, the wet rags in the mouth, the chains, the blinding lights, the masks, oh the noise the noise, over and over and over again, the smell of burning flesh, the senses too deprived to know if it was her own, no time to latch onto, the only space too abysmal to acknowledge, the desolation of will, oh how she wished to cave in, to have it all go away, to endwell with the others, so accustomed to the rotting stench that was herself the crisp ocean breeze she was now insuflating was fearfully alien, the sirens roar in the distance, victory is ours, praise allah.


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I cant remember the last time i was touched in such away. Especially since i lost my mind to death. Just a body wandering a motionless purgatory, just like the greats. Oh i’m so proud to be walking in the footsteps of the best. You know, i don’t even have to try, it’s just an endless line of mouths, and, luckily, having two dicks, i can always stay in base-deep, with one, and keep on movin’ right on down-the-line. The words fall out of the sky reminding me to turn the dial, to keep the path in tact, and the horses, the horses run free like they should. have you ever seemed to not quite be able to make it where your going? Well not me, i always know where i’m going, questions of doubt have no place in my self, but i have, on occasion, fallen victim to the butcher, the catcher of flies, and the impulsive acid reflex - salt in the wound, it would be, to claim lay to such honor, but at the end of the day, i have no choice. I guess some of us are just great.


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Thin always befriended the liars. It wasn’t necessarily something he avoided, and it wasn’t something he minded. you see, thin himself used to be a liar. Tell a lie today, not a chance he would, but he craved the lifestyle.


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Frog eyed babies stare from their cradles - so desirable - their little feet - their little hands.


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Awhile ago i ran into this guy, we didn’t really have much to say to each other, and i reckon we didn’t really want to say much either, but anyway, we stopped and chatted for a good 15 minutes, just talked, you know, about the new fords. Then out of nowhere he turns a sly smirk, like a trick, and says “can i let’ya in on a litle sea-cret?” and i said, ‘well,okay.’ and he says to me ”i been makin’ that money, son.” a little taken back, and a bit confused, i replied “well excuse me?” and he says “It’s this stuff called crystal meth, ice - it’s a drug all these stars out there in hollee-wood are doin’, you can make it outta stuff from the general store, give it to one em’punk kids ya’ always see smokin, and they bring it to the suburbs and sell it for top dollar ta rich kids, i’m makin’ two thousand buckaroos a day with just a lab in ma garage! -- well listen i could use ah extra set-a-hands, would you be intristed?” and still a little confused, i said to him, “Well, shore.”

Miron

They moored the small white sailboat with the words ‘Hakuna Matata’ painted in light blue script on the stern to the buoy that sat about ten yards from the beach. Hopping into the refreshing waist deep water the pair waded towards the beach where they could smell the grill off in the distance and echoes of laughter heightened their mood. The sailing had been easy on the wide lake and Veronica was delighted with her first experience. Miron who trailed behind her was impressed with the quickness veronica took to the sport. They reached the beach and began to dry off.

“So what did you think of the ferocious waters babe?” Miron joked.
“Ahoy mate the sailors life for me! hahaha it was great i can see why your family has kept the tradition alive.”
They stood at a quick embrace and traded lips. Their athletic builds complied nicely and the scene presented itself as if it were the cover of a Ralph Lauren Catalog.
“i love you”
“love you too”
Looking each other in the eye with wide smiles they turned towards the land hands grasped together and headed towards the trail. As they neared the family’s expansive estate Mirons dad let out a yell from behind the grill on the cedar deck stretching the diameter of the house that was built into the steep hillside.
“Hey you two, dinners ready in half hour!”
“sounds good!” Miron replied, while brushing his scruffy brown hair from his eyes.
Veronica and miron took the trail to the left at the split towards the guest house were the two would be staying for the weekend.
The house was small but was equipped with everything a responsibility free young couple could ask for. A bedroom in the back with a queen size bed connected to a living room with a love seat and a lazy-boy centered around a small tv that never saw much use. A Kitchen with a compact gas stove next to a sink and hardwood countertop. There was no dishwasher but the small amount of dishes used were hardly a chore to wash. A regular sized white refrigerator stood in the corner with a metallic microwave resting on top, the digital display read 5:45. A small bathroom with a shower was located next to the door of the bedroom in the living room.
As they crossed the threshold they threw their towels and bags onto the love seat and began stripping as they headed towards the bed. Their arms and legs entangled as they stared at each other smirking, taking in young love to the fullest. Pushing Miron to his back Veronica stradled him without loosing eye contact.
“Lets do it baby, we have this house to ourselves, no-one in their right mind will come down here.” Veronica whispered slyly.
“Oh babe, always up to no good.” Miron chuckles as veronica reaches under her towards his crotch.
“Like you don’t want to!” Veronica laughs as Miron flips her over, so he is now straddling her.
“Babe, god only knows how badly i want to do you.” The fire in his eyes backs up his statement. “But my heads in the clouds as it is after being on the lake all day, if we do it i’m going to zombie out all dinner, and you know my mom and dad never pass an opportunity to rag on me” Miron added, the fire still in his eyes.
“Oh you suck! You’r mine tonight.” Veronica stated.

There were ten of them seated at the table by 6:30. Since the weather was nice they were sitting outside at large oak table in the center of the balcony. At one end of the table sat Mr Holland, Lancer, Mirons father. And sitting to his left was Mrs. Holland, Diane, Mirons Mom. To Dianes left sat Carla, Mirons younger sister. To her left Sat Miron’s older - as well as fellow middle child- sister Brittany. Next to Brittany was her reliant summer boyfriend, Geoff. At the opposing head of the table, next to Geoff, sat Thomas the oldest of the children, who had had his summers of fun in the past and was now a serious stern man. To his left sat his pregnant wife Sherry. Grandpa Morris, the last remaining grandparent, who's presence is questionable due to dementia, sat next to sherry. Veronica and Miron, who’s placement was in direct scrutiny from Lancer and Diane, filled in the last two spots to Morris’ left.

Lancer stood from his seat standing over the table filled with bottles of wine, plates of pasta, salad, various meat and seafood dishes, and freshly picked vegetables. “I would like to start off our first toast of the summer by welcoming Veronica to our table, and may she survive her summer with the Hollands!” At that everyone laughed, excluding Morris who sat starring blankly in confusion. “But she’s not the only guest of honor tonight, we are also welcoming, for the first time, Diane and I’s first grandchild riding high in mighty in Sherrys stomach.” clapping ensued as everyone turned to smile at Sherry. “And to the rest of you, well lets Fuckin’ eat!” Lancer raised his glass in signal for the rest to follow suit. There was the the clank of crystal, quickly followed by an orchestra of dishes and cutlery clamoring across the table.

There was little talk besides culinary compliments for the first half hour of the meal while an active family refueled after a long day of fun. After refilling her second glass of wine Diane directed her attention towards Veronica. “So Veronica, how did you enjoy the high sees of lake Pimosiwasit? Captain Miron put you right to work i presume?”

“Hahaha oh he wasnt so bad, It was all new so the work was exciting for me. I couldn’t have asked for a better day, i have been on a few different speedboats, but those do the work for you. Sailing really is the natural beauty Miron’s always going on and on about.”

“Oh Veronica are you sure the Miron didn’t have the engine running the whole time?” Brittany remarked with sarcastic glamor. Miron looked up from his second serving of spaghetti and shot a glare carrying smirk at his older sister. Before Veronica could respond Brittany continued “He never told you about taking his old girlfriend’s out on the ‘tat’ did he?”

“Oh no he didn’t. Should i be worried?” Veronica replied after turning her head to give Miron a suspicious look. Miron Slightly blushed letting out a chuckle as Brittany Continued.

“You should only be worried if you haven't figured out how crafty Miron is by now. Before he really knew what he was doing out there on the rig he used to have his ‘co-pilots’ man the bow, so he could secretly get the outboard running at a slight wurr. And god damn, maybe he just wasn’t with the brightest girls but his little tricks worked. Everyone of them would come back saying how great a sailor he was!”

“That’s our little Miron!” Diane chirped in, fulfilling her motherly duties.

While Mirons ridicule carried on, Thomas, who was much too austere to partake in the tomfoolery, turned to Geoffrey. “So Geoff, how are things going up at the University, You staying on track?”

“Well Thomas, when the roads aren’t wet.” He let out a laugh, ignoring the awkwardness caused by Thomas not taking part. Geoff continued diligently, “But Seriously things are going well, I just finished my second year of law school, hoping to get something in the criminal defense field after i pass the bar next fall.”

“That’s Excellent Geoff, good to hear your making headway towards your goals. That kind of feat takes a real man.” Thomas pauses to take a large bite of steak. He chews it four times then swallows it down with a swig of wine. “You’ll have to stop by Sherry’s firm when your through, won’t he sherry?”

Sherry turned her attention from Mirons roast and cast a tight lip smile first to Thomas then to Geoff “Why of course Geoff, family is always welcome.” As Geoff was nodding a silent thank you lancers voice cut in from across the table.

“Sherry, sorry to eavesdrop from the deep end over here, but while your on the topic of the firm, what’s your plan for when the baby arrives? Especially with Colonel Holland heading back over seas in September. Word is you run that firm like he does a battalion. How are they going to get along without you? Thomas’ men sure as hell can’t - or so it seems.” His words shattered the mood, Thomas and Diane stared at Lancer fervently, the others stared down to see what food was left on their plates, except for sherry who kept her tight lipped smile and turned to make direct eye contact with lancer.

“Well Lance since you mention it, this is actually one area Thomas and i have finally come to agreement with. Ill be taking a short maternity leave from the firm until Thomas gets deployed. Last month we started interviewing live-in nanny’s and we will continue looking until the day comes. Luckily with my new position I’m able to work on many cases at home so ill be around as much as possible.” Sherry turns to Thomas and puts her hand on his leg, Thomas nods in Approval. “And well, we were waiting for the right time to tell you guys the good news, and now seems like a great time.” She takes one more look at Thomas, then turns her head to make eye contact with everyone as she excitedly continues. “But this will be Thomas’ last Tour overseas!” The mood is again elevated as love filled smiles come across the parties faces. Morris pisses his pants as he falls asleep but no one seems to notice. “With my recent success we are doing better financially then we could ever have hoped, and Thomas has agreed to bite the bullet and be a stay at home dad!”

“WHAT?!?” Carla, the youngest daughter, who has just graduated highschool, blurts out, sending food from her mouth “THOMAS A STAY AT HOME DAD??? HAHAHA I THOUGHT I WOULD NEVER SEE THE DAY!” At this the whole table erupts into laughter casting any signs of negativity away. Thomas himself can hardly keep his stern manor as a smile creeps on to his face. He reaches for his glass of wine and takes a hefty sip.

“What can i say? a mans gotta do what a mans gotta do.” he sets his glass down,

resting both arms on the edge of the table, fingers outstreched with palms up, sending his signature detached and hardened gaze from face to face. His low voice resonates across the deck. “Ask any career military personnel what the biggest downside of the job is and they’ll tell you it’s the inability to lead a normal life. If anyone were to say i haven’t already given my heart and soul to the country they’d be a liar, and I'd be a fool to pass up the opportunity to grasp the best of both worlds.”
The feeling of sincere happiness could not be dispelled from the air of the table. Except, perhaps from Veronica and Miron. Not that Miron wasn’t overly joyed by the news of his brothers departure from the armed services, or that Veronica didn’t feel right at home with Miron’s familly. It’s just that they couldn’t help rethinking their thoughts of themselves and their relationship with an attitude of inadequacy in comparison to Thomas and Sherry. They may have had time to rethink rethinking their thoughts and see the two as an example to strive for but Morris, unfortunately, disrupted the thought process. As Veronica was solemnly starring at her lap while contemplating, the faint smell of urine trickled her way. Her eyes tracked the smell before she had time to recognize it, and before she understood what she was looking at her mouth led the way. “OH GOODNESS!” She shrieked, her words slicing through the air, cutting Diane mid sentence, as she, with the rest of the family, were continuing to praise Thomas and Sherry. Diane's first thought was of disdain for Veronica’s impudent behavior but she quickly lightened up as she followed Veronica's gaze towards Morris. Morris was sitting in his chair, his food untouched, slightly rocking back and forth quietly moaning. The skin around his eyes was beet red and the color was magnified by the tears pooling in the corner’s and sliding down his wrinkled face. His lips were slightly spread and you could catch a glimpse of his yellow teeth that were holding a pool of saliva on the brink of his lips. “Oh Veronica, sweetie, i’m so sorry!” she said a most perfect motherly tone, quickly darting her eyes to miron who was wholeheartedly starring in concern at Veronica. “I thought Miron would have told you!”
“Oh no he did it’s just that-” Veronica began.
“My father, Grandpa Morris over here has been suffering from dementia for the past 3 years. I know its very unsettling, and again, i’m so sorry, why don’t we switch seats so i can clean him up for you?”
The sincere happiness of moments prior had now eagerly dissipated. The conversation remained between Diane and Veronica while the rest of the party returned attention to their meals, picking at meager conversation between one another as to not make the scene anymore uncomfortable.
“Well, Mrs. Holland, I’m aware of the condition, i myself have had to deal with similar problems in my family. The reason i was so suprised is that, well, erm, it seems Grandpa Morris has had an accident.” Veronica, unlike most people in her circumstance, spoke calmly and through her body language assured Diane that she was not frightened by the situation. Before Diane had time to reply, Carla, the youngest of the family, stood from her chair.
“Mom it’s okay, i’ll take care of him, i’m finished with my meal anyways.” she turned her attention to Veronica. “Sorry about this Veronica, but thank you for letting us know and not allowing gramps to sit in that condition all night. Haha, you’re officially OK in my book!.” As she walked around the table and began to help get her grandfather into the house she couldn’t help feeling terrible. She understood dementia was a mental disorder and that he couldn’t help it. But she was uneasy with the way the family kept him at the table, he was always around but never there. She wondered when he began being treated like a dog instead of a human. She couldn’t stop thinking that maybe he wasn’t as sick as they all thought. That maybe he had just given up, succumb to his position in life. As if he didn’t try to stop himself from the disgusting behavior to prove a point that it is what he was required to do to gain an ounce of attention. Although, she wondered, maybe that’s what the disease was, a terminal depression. Not an inability to function within a set time place reality, but an inability to want to. Is there any difference? She began to cry herself as she sang him the lullaby she remembered him singing to her as a child. Sponging him down in the tub she realized for the first time in her young life the similarities between the infant state and the elder state.
As the water splashed Morris’ face he began convulsing, the sound of the faucet burned his ears like an ambulances sirens. the white walls, the white tiles, the white ceramic of the tub blurred his vision removing any chance of orientation. “AHHHH AHHHHHH AHHHHH” He screamed in deranged agony, his eyes popping out of their sockets, as the water splashed all over he felt a hand on his chest and he looked up into a strangers eyes; “WHERE AM I, WHERE AM I, WHO ARE YOU, WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK!
“Miron, It’s okay, your safe its me nurse Jennings.” the figure said, slowly caressing the patients chest. Your here at county lakes nursing home, you just ate dinner and now its time for your daily bath. Come on man, we do this every-night! don’t be scared, your safe here.”
“Miron, MIRON, did you just call me Miron?”
‘Well yes sir, that is your name. Would you prefer something different?”

Mornin!

The phone's ring forces tired eyes open, a sore neck bends and a creeping hand levitates toward the receiver. Neck turns back to resting position, eyes focused on a pseudo-stucco ceiling, the receiver pushes shoulder length matted hair out of the way to make connection with a tinnitus stricken canal. "hello."
"This is a call for CHRIS MAXLEY... if this is not CHRIS MAXLEY please hang up the phone and dial 1-708-455-4008 to report misinformation..." a computerized voice sputters in sporadic syllables "This is a call for CHRIS MAXLEY if you are not CHRIS MAXLEY please hang up. there will now be a 3 second pau-" click.
Chris straightens up in bed. Long ago having dismantled his alarm clock in light of the daily debt collectors beckoning. Too scared to call and say its not him, he's a terrible liar, yet reliant on the fact that he always hangs up before the three second pause. Halitosis seeps up to the naval cavity as a fully extended jaw allows oxygen to supply a momentary head rush - arms craned to the ceiling. "what to do, what. to. do."
He pushes the olive down comforter to the side revealing pale mole and dark hair spotted legs he fluidly swings to the floor. Applying his weight he stands up and repeats the head rush exercise, this time arching his back, spinal cord popping in relief.

Edgan Howlver

Its the innocence that brings two souls together. After an expansive orgy with flight and fight this is the only truth that remains. For what does a being in fear act upon other than ignorance. It is a battle for the control of ignorance. Absolute Truth. So lets sit down and remember the story of Edgan Howlver.
Sitting by himself, the cold of the can stimulates the fingertips as the gaspid aroma tickles scent, the game of jacks carries way on the pallet, and the stomach tightens in celebration.. An interest paying heavy due to the removed observation that Edgan is sitting in the middle of new-wave-robotic-hippie-drug-induced-merriment. You would think Edgan would pay attention to: the plumptiously busted women exaggerating the air with ambitious movement. The vibrations slamming against the body in atomically correct 4/4 rhythm, and, the epileptic warned catastrophe protruding from electron fueled L.E.D mastery.
But this is not what catches Edgan's attention, as previously noted, he is drinking a beer. Perhaps to get drunk, perhaps to act as a signal of recognition to the doppelganger sitting two stools down. Of course Edgan will not embrace conversation for how can he know if the man sitting two stools down is equaled in alcoholic ambition. Unison prevails as both beings continue to drink. A fact that the bartender exploits as her breasts elude to the next vice driven purchase; the barback narcissistic-ally flexing in agreement.


"I'm trying to be frank here. I have just snorted lots of molly, which I think is smack." Edgan Howls. Smack smack smack. Crack. Smack. Naked. Jazz.. Showering running. Socks are still on. Embrace the nothingness. Could we want more than this. Direct conscious flow. No thought involved. Not even the meager thought that dissolution resolves ATP production. Genetics. Alcoholism. Depression. When will this bitch take off her pants.

But when we play with our heads so sadistic. But when we dream we are responsible. Should we really sit here so flaccid. MOISTURE. THE PORN ISNT LOUD ENOUGH. THE LIGHTING IS RESPECTABLE..

Its interesting the amount of time it takes to jack off is about the amount of time it takes to for the female actor to remover her bra. So is the ingenuity in filming a porno the process of the characters arriving in the hotel room?

I think so.

Of course if you watch porn on the internet there is no lead-way to the hotel room.

Its okay to turn the shower off when your not inside of it.

Conceptualize yourself sitting on a prism. Abstracted only by the ropes which hold you down. Is it any wonder why you would want to runway. So runway and learn that the ropes are friendly. Then you can stop running. Then you can embrace the warmth. Just Kidding. Enter Phase 2.

THE ORGASM

She crawls deep inside herself, the light emanating the wrong direction. But its okay because constant failure is a necessity for success. Not to paraphrase the American dream... The American dream: When you find what works you better hope its not killing you; when it kills you, you better hope you die. If not, one will obtain the joyous experience labeled “purgatory.”

At least Vancouver isn't shipping their snow from Mexico.....................................

There's many times. There's many times. Many times it takes a moment. Just a simple moment. Then it all becomes so clear. You live for the clarity. You recognize you have got to Walk so straight. But this aint Orlando, this aint Chicago, this aint L.A., This is Boston, no grid system whatsover. This is New York no alley-ways. straight shot.

Homeostasis (fill in the blank)

Deception progress each and every one living in their own self. The same emotional interflow, the same harrowing disaster you can take your pants off to. Who spilled the roofies in the kacey gangbang? Bang bang bang, you squirt your out. Bang bang bang you finish with your legs shaking your in. Who will win gold?

Shallow thoughts dancing with shallow minds shall clear the wind from here to within. The deep end is overrated. Piranhas chomping at the bit, the cattle bleed in the water. What is the act of transportation with out the gift of tongues.