The Bedtime Storyteller

So i was in Stara Zagora - a provincial town in Bulgaria- for two days doing nothing but waiting. sometimes its all you need to clear your head and sit down and have a nice conversation with your overcrowded thoughts, which as you can tell...did happen. I also felt a little poetic ( hey you cant blame me...Stara Zagora is known for its poets) and realized how alot of people forget about alot of things that were integral back in the day but now just...i dont know, Blahze maybe?

How many people do you know were told bedtime stories as children? did it make them better children in comparison to the people you know who werent told bedtime stories? what kind of stories were they told? ones that stimulate their imagination? something to wrap them in a blanket of fantasy just before they let loose with all their crazy and movie worthy dreams? or were they merely repeated legends passed down from generation to generation to create tradition and cultural heritage? or were they simply anecdotes that teach you a few primitive lessons about life...( i mean they have to be primitive...you cant really tell kids bedtime stories about money, drugs and political interests as a child...i guess if you want to you would have to settle for a 90's version of the emperor's new clothes)

Nevertheless, Bedtime Storytelling is becoming close to extinct in our ever speed shifting excuse of a life...my cousin has 2 kids...but never the time nor energy to tell them stories of flying boys in green who refuse to grow up...or little blonde girls in blue and white who take too many pills and end up talking to doorknobs and have tea with fluffy animals and crazy card players...

so instead...he brings them limited edition DVDs of Alice in Wonderland, and Peter Pan for them to play on their LCD screen on a mantle...where probably previous generations either had a family portrait or bookshelf.

I have nothing against my cousin...he is not a bad parent, i have nothing against the choice of upbringing he has for his children...i have everything against the world that compells him to make such a choice.

My parents stopped telling me bedtime stories when i was old enough to read..they didnt want me to be dependent. fair enough, but frankly im sure i missed out on alot...cause i look at my sister...who had me to tell her all the bedtime stories she wanted to hear, and i look at myself. Her imagination is even wilder than mine..(some might think that is impossible but trust me shes got the better half of that) okay, okay, ill give myself the credit for a change and admit that i'd come up with most of the stories on the spot right there. She'd always predict a great storytelling future for me, be it in the form of a writer, actor, journalist, director...or maybe even stand up comedian ( but i tried that back in 2004 and ended up making a fool of myself infront of a crowd of 400+ and some nomads) even a lawyer is a form of storytelling ( very convincing storytelling might i add)

So anyways back to Stara Zagora...i was bored out of my head and decided to take a walk. it is quite a small city...but rather sunny for a European city especially since this is November people...we are talking close to sub zero temperatures...( guess this is just practice for the time ill spend in Siberia). So im walking around town and theres this little pavement cafe to next to what could be called the town centre...i notice this old man, very prissy ...in a nice off-white/ beige suit...hat matching scarf and everything, covering it up with a nice navy blue coat..he was drinking tea i guess, and was totally into the book he was reading..minding his own business, i mean even if a Ferrari zoomed by and crashed into a Hummer...in the middle of this nowhere town which probably is not home to niether car...add to that its not one of those passing through towns either, he wouldnt budge...not even flinch...

thats how much he was into whatever he was reading.

I pass him...and without lifting his eyes out of the book in a typical eastern european accent says:

"Sit down, i will be with you in a minute"

to my exclamation i was finally glad to meet someone who doesnt talk Bulgarian...but who the hell is this person and what does he want with me.

My curiousity getting the best of me told me to sit down, which i did.

"do you have good bedtime stories" he asked

"no but give me one and i will tell it quite nicely" i found myself answering back.

"Whatever happened to your imagination Roger?"

"My name isn't Roger...im afraid you have the wrong person sir.."

"if you were the wrong person, i wouldnt have you sitting down on the same table i am seated on and wouldnt be asking about the deterioration of your skill to conjure up fiction for sheer entertainment"

I decide to play along,

"Okay, you have me there...i am Roger, i was only playing"

"well, remember your sister Roger? the one you used to tell stories?...Mischa?"

"yes i do"

"where is she now Roger? where is she?"

"erm...last time i checked she was eaten by a trio of Lithuanian mercenaries, and very properly digested..i recall examining their shit a few days later..to find my sisters teeth in it...just like chunks of corn only white..and shiny"

"oh now that is truly dreadful roger...well ill get to the point..."

"please do..."

"i have a daughter...she's dying, the only thing that would make her better is if you can tell her a bedtime story. come to the castle on the hill tomorrow...tell her a Bedtime Story and be on your way.."

As night falls...i trod up the hill to reach the isolated Castle on the outskirts of town. I wonder to myself why is it that most Castles i have visited, if inhabited are always visited at night? the only conclusion i came to is -Castle or no Castle- most of your visits to anyone are at night...

Nobody listens to Bedtime Stories in the morning, even if before an afternoon nap...everyone is too entrenched and engulfed in the lies they live in the morning only to show their true colors at night? or is it the other way round? well its relative, and i think that is me trying to be a tad bit too philosophical...i should stick to what im good at....

Bedtime Stories.

I reach the Castle's entrance...not your scary looming structure that freaks the hell out of you when a flash of lightning lights up the sky in a sudden and unexpected burst...its just a nice Big and grand stone structure...with a little ivy growing in the cracks..the driveway is paved a dark and opaque marble...there are two cars parked next to one another as if they are on a date...the first which seemed quite out of place was a Yellow 69 mustang...i didnt even know 69 mustangs came in yellow. could be a paintjob...but a good one...for Bulgarian Standards at least. the second was an old ( as in 40s) white Citroen something more of what the old man from the cafe would be driving...so i automatically assumed the Citroen belongs to prissy old man...and the mustang belongs to dying little girl...daughter of prissy old man. i walk into the short entrance and find myself in a cobbled landing...there is a rather robust old woman on the side...with a huge mess of foam and detergent around her...seated in a crouch position in front of a large round wooden tub...you can tell from the smell of the detergent that she is washing she has a colored scarf wrapped around her head..with few strands of hair ecaped the clutches of the sweaty scarf. she sees me and smiles...donning her blackened gums and what few teeth remain attached...

Teeth....

I saw Mischa's...Teeth in their droppings. they ate her...to survive yes...but they ate her...they ate one of their kind...consumed her like we consume cows everyday...eat them, digest them and then make them become an eternal part of us...what we dont like we let out of us...as waste...Just like Mischa's Teeth...

She had beautiful Teeth...
Which made her have a beautiful smile...gone...eaten, devoured.

Prissy old man waved from a window...and jestured me to come up....when we finally reached his Daughter Alexa's room...all i can think of was Mischa...and how she'd listen to my stories.

Alexa was a good listener...she gives you feedback with her facial expressions...intrigue, excitement, anticipation, boredom, all appeared clearly through a series of systematic nods...wide eyed stares and raised eyebrows....and a couple of pouts. She seemed quite jovial for someone awaiting their death. From what i understood it was quite a terminal illness that nothing can be done about. She really is accepting her fate i guess.

Alexa smelt like someone about to die...you know that smell...musty and sick, with all the bacteria and worms and maggots waiting to eat you..once you have no immunity..disgusting creatures...scavengers...

well at least they dont kill for feeding...they feed on what already is dead...

Whats bothering you most ? the fact they killed her cause they were hungry? or the fact that she was eaten?

Don't know..its just an awful thing to do...

Fuck you Issei Sagawa, Fuck you Jeoffery Dahmer,

they're cowards...they can't scavenge...its ego...not gastronomic hunger...

i will kill you

i will fuck you

i will eat you

you will be part of me..forever...

thats their chain of thought..they want to glorify the victim immortalize them as long as they themselves exist, not out of love of the victim...but out of envy...they see something in the victim they might lack, and covet it, they destroy you...and take it for themselves...they are threatened...by yor very existence..they erase you..and in a way become you..no, you become them..a living part of them, that regenerates, grows with them...

Sick

Sick

Sick

I want my Mischa back...i want to tell her Bedtime Stories, stories of men in a land who arent afraid of being eaten, of women who dont fuck for power, who dont perceive life as an eternal battle between genders and a test to prove superiority, in a world where man doesnt kill man or reign supreme over his fellow man to satisfy his ego, preserve his blood or juice up his bank account. a world where i need not look over my shoulder, where i can just love people and never worry about them seeing harm, strife or suffering, a place where Injustice cannot flourish, a place where Apathy can't breathe, a place i can share with my kind

A Secret place

My Secret Place

My Bedtime Stories...

Soundtrack to Driving on the Dark side of the Road

"The world still is the same...you'll never change it...as sure as the stars shine abovvve...

"well you're nobody till some-body lovvves you...so find yourself somebody to lovvvve..."
Dean Martin was gracefully interrupted by the revving of the sheer powerful 420 horsepower engine of the Camaro SS driving on the Road...







"Here i am...on the road again...there i am upon the stage...there i go...im playing the star again here i go...turn the page" - Bob Seger "Turn the Page" -





"Im on the road again..i aint got a woman just the car my special friend...im on the road again
"for i aint going down that old lonesome road....all by myself"

- Canned Heat "On the Road Again"-

"Hey Hey Hey Hey....Hey Stupid...What you Trying to do ?"

- Alice Cooper "Hey Stupid"-

Its certainly good to be home...but what am i going home to ? a warm bed and a nice home cooked meal, a shower, clothes, maybe a good book and some milk ( yes i still drink Milk.. for alcohol doesnt really solve anything but then again, neither does milk). I'm going home to an email account, fresh newspapers...a friendly porter, smiling neighbours who always wonder what do i do with my life, my couch, my Chair, i dont even have pets to give me a warm welcome home.



It's your choice...It's your life...you made it this way...why are you complaining...?
I'm not really..i really am enjoying it this way.. its relaxing, the moment you walk into the door...you are shut off from life...silence...only accompanied by your thoughts...

King of Your Castle...
not a long way to go...i should take a note to download king of my castle when i get home... until then lets see whats on the iPod



"Like the circles that you find...in the windmills of your mind"

-Sting "Windmills of your Mind"-

My mind has alot of windmills right now...I'm thinking way too much for my own good...





"Relax...Take it Eaaaaaaaasy" -Mika-
Phone rings...
"its Me" says Mr. Adham..."we're on..."
I dreaded those two words like you dread walking into that test you know you arent prepared for...like getting out of the car after a fender bender knowing it was your fault and you have to report to the driver infront of you and are at his mercy...like that call you have to make to a loved one telling them someone they care about has died.
Just when i thought i have room to breathe...the walls cave in again...
Kane..chill you are used to it....yes this one is big...but come on...its just business as usual.

"Do you still wanna meet where the killers eat, held accountable for anything you repeat?"

- Ice Cube "The Pecking Order" -

"Then Cowboy change your ways or with us you will ride...
tryin to catch the devils heard...across these endless skies..."

- Willie Nelson Feat. Johnny Cash "Riders in the Sky"-

"I want to live...where no one is watching my way home...."

-Smashing Pumpkins "For God & Country"-

"Staring at the world through my rearview mirror...just looking back at the world...from another level..you know what i mean? staring....
Multiple gunshots on the block, first off niggas is callin the cops, people shot...nobody stops, i wonder when the world stopped caring last night..you get shot while the whole block staring.."

- 2PAC "Staring at the world through my rearview"-

Yes the World is a nasty place, and imposes on you to do things you dont want to do, or never really realized you had it in you to do. But what are you going to do about it, you sure as hell wont cry about it now? how will that help...plus who are you going to cry to ? i thought you were alone...you didnt have all those lovely people as friends who are truly and utterly grateful for your existence in their life, and you dont want to get attached to them because once the heat comes you will have only 30 seconds flat to ditch them and walk away...so just get it over with...dont be a PPDQ and just get it done...Citibank Style...or was that Nike...?
Yes, something else as drastic even more, maybe less is going to pop up afterwards...because that is what happens with you...and i got news for you man...it will never end...thats life for you so put up or shut up ( No Fear T-shirt).
VROOOOOOOOM! ...that engine is just sheer Mazikkkkkka!!!! especially with the riffs of La Grange playing in the background....

Just Drive off..into the night...thats what you are good at...
why cant you be normal....find a girl and settle down..im sure someone out there is good enough for you



"I must have tried a thousand times...sometimes i think shes just in my imagination"

-Rolling Stones "Anybody seen my Baby?"

You dont find her because you dont want to...it scares you if you do...
Admit it...Women scare you...
You Fear women..



"Blood on her skin, Dripping with Sin...Do it again..."

- Rob Zombie " Living Dead Girl"-

"I say, Hell is Love, You say, You must Suffer, She's a , Mother fucker..

-The Ballad of Resurrection Joe & Rosa Whore-

Leave this self freudian analysis to someone qualified you twit...i wont admit to anything...im too tired to think, too tired to analyze...no time to breathe, get on...drive faster...you will be late...oh well...click next on that Damn iPod:

Love is Strong

Rolling Stones

40 Licks (CD2)

Love is strong, and you're so sweet

You make me hard you, make me weak

Love is strong, and you're so sweet

And some day, babe we got to meet

A glimpse of you, was all it took

A stranger's glance, it got me hooked

And I followed you, across the stars

I looked for you in seedy bars

What are you scared of, baby ,

It's more than just a dream

I need some time

We make a beautiful team,
Beautiful team ,

I wait for you, until the dawn,

My mind is ripped, my heart is torn

And love is strong ,and your so sweet

Your love is bitter, it's taken neat.

Why do i get the feeling the Shuffler on my iPod is trying to tell me something?

*sigh*
oh well....
Whatever
*mumbles*

Amnesia

Waking up in a Ditch in the middle of nowhere surely is an experience to knock you back to your senses. here i am, its almost 9 am according to Cairo time ( i always keep my watch set to Cairo time wherever in the world i happen to be) Im still in yesterday's suit...white shirt & no tie...covered in dust...im face down in the ditch...the taste of dirt still in my mouth...involuntarily crunching on a few grains of sand between my molars. Doesn't feel nice..

Theres Blood on my cuffs...is it mine?

An image from last night flashes infront of me...a Tall looming man...white hair and tiny beady eyes that penetrate you in an instant grimacing at me...with smoke in the air...he leans over to me and opens the passanger door im resting my wieght on and just flicks me out of the car like an annoying fruit fly...

Who's blood is this? did i beat someone up? should i skip town cause im surely not an assualt suspect...this could be murder. I frantically try to remember what on earth happened and how did i end up somewhere in the middle of the desert outside of Reno..

Can't seem to remember....

Can't seem to remember where exactly did i sign up for this bullshit either...

Tall looming man smiles at me and says reassuringly " I am a Just man..i will only give you what you deserve...ill only treat you like the monster you are...you are just like me...but i will put you in your place".
A few hours before...i was in a room...a room with a pretty view..there were men in the room...all clean cut and dressed for a nice Business function after hours.. well it was after hours for me...to them daily business was just about to begin...There was money on the table..the neon lights coming in from the panoramic windows to our right danced all over the faces of Benjamin Franklin. Benjamin wore the only smile in the room.

these people were pissed..

The Couch had a man in probably the cleanest galabeyya i have ever seen, covered in a nice black 3abaya with golden lining and a scarf wrapped around his tiny head.

"Raghead" was the first thing that came to mind...im sure alot of people wondered what the hell is someone dressed like that doing in a place like Reno..he didnt care, hes to preoccupied with bigger matters than to wonder about the impression he might be giving to the locals. he dares one of them to speak their mind. they should accept and be tolerant of other cultures as they claim.

"يا كين....جول له أنه مصعب الموضوع من غير داعي لو بوده دم حيبجة دمه هو و رجالته إللي سايل"

I try to translate that in the most diplomatic way possible, for i am the messenger..and messengers were always the cheapest cannon fodder in most wars..

" You are unnecessarily alleviating the situation..if it is blood you want to see, it will only be yours along with the blood of your men"
Tall looming man's eyes widen in amusement

" Who the Fuck are you?... his Translator?"

Im only a lawyer..
Im only twenty four..
I should be going to bars...dating pretty girls...driving a fast car...maybe doing a little cocaine on the side too...

My worries in life should only be Armani Suits, Fashion models and how to date them...and maybe a few serious lawyer work in the mornings...but nothing that follows me home...

nothing that haunts me in my sleep
nothing that makes me want to forget
nothing that would make me go all the way to Reno to settle it
nothing that would make me end up in a Ditch covered in dust and someone elses blood.
Can't seem to remember when exactly did i get involved into all of this
Can't seem to remember when i have become an integral and inseperable part of this universe of filth, greed, blood and tears..

Kane...what do you remember?

I remember being six, spending my summer in Alexandria with my Parents...we had a cabin on the beach. alot of people did, nice people, nice people i would have loved to surround myself with. we'd build sandcastles on the beach, swim in to reach the lighthouse at the end of the bay. go to the pier and spend the entire day fishing in our bathing suits..when we got too bored we would jump into the water and try to catch the fish with our hands...as if we were cartoon bears. on some days when the sea was too rough, we'd settle for a day flying kites on the beach...our parents would know exactly where we were from the location of our kites gliding through the sky. sometimes when we were in a creative mood, we'd gather around all the parents and put on a play for them at someones cabin, theyd act all interested just for us, simply because they were really happy to see us all enthusiastic about something.

I remember being eight, doing my first science experiment in school, they were trying to teach us the water cycle and hence we had to make a solution evaporate and the salt would crystalize in the beaker. i went home aspiring to become a scientist..it was a few weeks before my birthday. i got a chemistry set as a gift that year.

I remember being ten, my dad had me signed up for tae kwon do classes, it was one thing i was persistent in. everytime i felt sore from being beat in class, he'd rent out a bruce lee movie for me from the video club...he'd tell me bruce lee was beaten up as a kid too...look at him now. i remember one day, after class i went strolling with my mother and we bought ice cream although it was the middle of winter...we enjoyed the view and had talk about why would i be taking tae kwon do lessons..
"so that you can protect us from the bad people dear"

"why do bad people want to hurt us?"
"because they are bad..."
"why are they bad?"
"they're just selfish...they want what they dont have, and the easy way to get it is by hurting others in the process" "what do they want?"
"happiness"
"why cant they just eat ice cream and talk to their mothers?"

she just brushed my hair playfully, chuckled and gave me a kiss

I remember when i was twelve, i had my best friends over on a saturday morning, we played some video games and then went to play pool..we thought it was cool. On the way back we found this vendor who sold "bumb" which practically is gunpowder wrapped in little newspaper balls and fastened with some copper wire. we bought 10 pounds worth of it each...and engaged in civil war on my street. the porters would cheer and root for "ibn el 7etta" or Son of the Hood the cars passing by were courteous enough to stop for a moment as not to interrupt our little private war. Everyone was enjoying the mirth we were in...little boys engaged in violence against one another.

I guess Clean Galabeyya man and Tall looming Man wished people would let them have their own little war too..but then some 9-5 uniformed Reno PD man waiting for retirement yet with some delusions of grandeur would be tempted to meddle in their affairs thinking they are small time dope pushers who want to pull it off Montana Style. Why is it that the life we seem to watch in movies and have the comfort of being separated from by the touch of a button seem to have this tendency to jump out of the screen and become as real as the thumb protruding from my left hand? and why so soon...?

Im only a lawyer
Im only twenty four...at this rate...i wont be twenty five

I remember when i was 14, just came out of the shower on a thursday night..drenched my hair in gel...wore my addidas T-shirt...my levis jeans and headed off to the club...i'm meeting a new friend today..his name is Michael...we're going to go girl hunting for girls. we end up forgetting about the whole thing and just walk around chatting about this and that. Michael is probably like the brother i have never had...we talk to this very day...despite the different lives we may lead. I also remember meeting Lana that year too...she was new to school, her mother was worried about her and just picked a random kid in the playground who just happened to be me, she told me to take care of her like she was my young sister, i fulfilled that role to the fullest last week when i married her off to this great guy. I also remember this girl, her name is Nikita, i had the biggest crush on her but was too afraid to tell her, i spent 3 years fearing confession. Thats how ill prepared i was for life back then. i met her by coincidence last week too...shes a successful career woman working in a big company, and accordingly meets the expectations of having an active social life.

I remember Reno PD man pleading for his life. begging for mercy, and how he has three daughters to feed and a sick wife. i remember how all i chose to focus on was how would jenna, laura and vicky take the news...and how are they supposed to take care of their sick mother now that daddy's last resting place was a hole in the desert. i dwelled on the thought of how disgusted i was with myself that i was a part of that...how i let it happen before my eyes and silently chose to be a part of it out of fear..which still is not good enough justification. i wondered how Galabeya man and Tall looming man dealt with that..did they feel the same way too? or did they kill off their souls a long time ago?

I remember when i was 16, Grandpa gave me an old gun of his. "use it with respect" he said, "it is only a sport...not a tool, it doesnt solve problems...it creates them...use it alone...respect its power and the power it can give you...but never use it. enjoy it in solitude...should you be compelled to share it with someone, then this sport is not for you. never teach someone how to use it, it is merely instinct. you cannot teach someone instinct.

A day will come, where you will be tempted to use it...dont give in to temptation, for if you will..then that will be the day you lose your soul"

I sought out someone to help me with the ways of the gun, lets call him Operations. Operations beleive that guns were intially made so that the weak can protect themselves. Time has proven that the creation of Gun is like opening Pandora's Box. i conveyed that to Operations, he replied with two things:-

1- "Teach your Sons the way of the Gun, swimming and the riding of beasts"
2- " you must protect us, take care of us ...you have a duty to protect, you must be prepared i dont ask you to act..i am here to teach you how to react, like i said, guns are for the weak, alot of weak people will be fooled to think they are strong, and will attempt to harm others, react Kane...react and put them in their place"

I didnt put Tall Looming man's goons in their place, I didnt put the mad dictator vanquishing our pride all these years into place, i didn't put Issei Sagawa in his place...nor Dahmer, nor Bundy, nor Ezzat Hanafi, nor Bashandi, nor Charles Taylor, nor Slobodan Milosoviesc, nor the neighbour i hear beating his wife, nor the Citizen killing Cop, nor the men at Novartis, nor the men at Haliburton, nor the Spectres of Switzerland,

but then again...nor did anybody...

I walk closer to a grey stretch in the middle of the desert. it must be a road...its empty. theres a road sign...Reno 12 miles and it points to the left, another sign pointing to the right..."BACK HOME 4,000 MILES"

I stand under the road sign, waiting for any car to pass by. a Silver Lamborghini jets by me headed to Reno..Lola is driving..she must have heard im in Reno..she just passes me by.

What happened last night? what was the money for? who is tall looming man? who is galabeya man? what happened to Reno PD man? where did i sign up for this shit, how does being a lawyer make u end up in all of this?

a lot of questions unanswered..

A Black Suburban passes by...coming from Reno...Jordan Kalfus is driving...Rankin Fitch is riding shotgun with a cigar in his hand i autostop them...

"Kane boy..." Says Fitch..."come with us...we came to pick you up.."

"you headed back home?"

"nah, little britches...we're taking you back to Reno"

"I'm through with Reno"

"well it beats the middle of the fuckin desert dont it...just come back to civilization then sort something out there to go back home"

Kalfus throws in a look..."Last call Kane"

"ill try my luck with the next car"

I wait for a while till the next car passes..it hits me how as much as i want out..how much i have been prepped for all this..we live in a world that prepares you for this. No matter how protective or impermeable the bubble you live in might be. If your parents dont sign you up for Tae Kwon Do lessons then some bully will steal your jellies. If your mother doesn't ask you to protect her, some guy will knock up your sister and run away...leaving your sister to blame and a filthy little monster grow inside of her. if you dont come across someone like Operations..you will meet a reefer man to teach you the ways of the joint, or a Ghandi man to teach you the art of politics, or a Bhudda man to teach you spirituality...either way that won't prevent Dakhleyya man from having some fun inserting impaling objects into your rectum.

Even if you manage to use supergule to seal all the holes in your so called bubble...some bubble popping monster will come along and burst your domain with the utmost ease...living you flickering around like a fish on the deck of a boat...squirming out of your inevitable fate in futility.

A White Mercedes appears on the horizon, coming from back home...i see the driver...i recognize him..its Mr. Adham...he stops and lets me in...and zooms off to Reno.

"We heard what happened...we also heared what you told Kalfus & Fitch...don't be silly Kane..Reno is your place...Reno is your Duty..protect us from the bad people your mother once told you about"

I can tell we are driving quite fast...or maybe the Road to Reno is just easy...we're almost there...

"Mr. Adham...you once taught me how it is all about free will...one cannot escape his destiny nor his duty..so leave me find my path...if Reno is my Destiny...i will be there...but for God's sake i didnt sign up for this shit!!....Im only 24....Im only a Lawyer.."

Mr. Adham Drops me off at a roadhouse... two miles outside of Reno... the sign says "last stop to Reno" the parking lot is full of 18 wheeler trucks. alot of cars zooming by the roadhouse..all going quite fast..full of familiar faces...from back home. Xanatos, Dollface, Chuckles, Beamix, Twine Runner, Pigbart, Scorpio, Curly Sue, Agroboys a plenty...and Gulfies Galore..all heading down to Reno.

The sun boils down on me...i recall the past 8 years of my life..such a detour...such a dissapointment to the little child that was once me. i need a lift back home. Reno shouldnt be for people like me.

A woman...walks out of the roadhouse dressed in a red trucker cap, trucker shirt jeans and red converse hightops...just gawks at me...her name turns out to be Bertha...(not the first Bertha i meet) i inquire as to the reason of her gawk...

"oh...its nothing,"

"have we met?" I ask

"maybe in a past life..is that your blood?"

"no, its not mine..but im sure ill get into alot of trouble for it...so you headed to Reno?"

"yeah...lots of action going on, im only here to watch...dont want a part of it though"

I pause and reflect on what she just said...i remember the day when i once said it...and look at me now...

"don't...its hard to resist..."

"i know...i am rather intrigued...quite curious to explore...i have some time on my hands before i move on...so thats why i am thinking of exploring.."

I felt compelled to help...

"well spend your time eslewhere...i lost myself in there...and im trying to find it again...!"

"wow...self discovery...can i help...please?"

"you say you have the time...can you drive me back home?"

"but i wanna see Reno..."

"maybe i can give you a tour...but i gotta go home first...will you drive me home?"

"well i got the time...and i could use a nice long drive..."

"Wheres your car then?"

She smiled... I haven't seen someone smile...since benjamin franklin on the table..before that...well maybe when i was six...The Parents enjoyed the plays we had on the beach...

Why do i get the feeling i might end up back in Reno?

well whatever happens i hope this amnesia wears off..i dont know where ive been...i know where i came from..and i sure as hell dont have a clue where am i going...

but alot of questions need to be answered.

The Danger of a Beautiful Stranger

Probably one of the most common fantasies of just about everyone i know is meeting a beautiful stranger in the middle of a crowd of seemingly interesting people, where such a Beautiful Stranger just makes them all appear as banal. Something that kind of goes like this:

" I was there...in the middle of the crowd, a crowd of people all of which were at their very best. A crowd so accomplished that i would only dream of being placed with. Am i truly one of them? but of course i am. for this is quite an exclusive gathering and we are but a select few that have been chosen among many, makes me feel special doesn't it ? to my right there's Mr. Billionaire , with the whole wall street look going on for him,he looks like a Stockbroker....to my left there's Miss Executive, in a nice black dress...looks like she's in Advertising. hmm...why am i not that impressed anymore? i wonder what my significant other is doing right now. That thought just enters my head while i attempt to dodge Mr. Fat Sleazeball who has had one drink too many and will be making a fool of himself pretty soon, wonder what does his wife think of all of that...oh well....looks like this night wont be as great as i expected....

Will i meet someone tonight i wonder? well what the hell am i thinking i have a significant other i probably will never find someone like anywhere else? but are we right for each other?

i'll stop obsessing now...ill think it over tomorrow. Okay, Mr. Billionaire is hitting on Blonde who is desperately trying to look like Jessica Simpson...he must be drunk...Miss Executive is being swooped away off her feet by that hunk who probably has a brain the size of a walnut, but people give him the benefit of the doubt due to his lovely jawline and 5 o'clock shadow. Shes had too many mojitos to be in control too.

Everyone's drunk..

i'll humor myself and observe the comedy going on at the dancefloor...

right there between Mr.Producer who is dancing like a frog in a blender and Mr.Politician who is shifting his wieght from buttcheek to buttcheek while balancing a drink in his hand and a menacing look on his face i see a Stranger that attracts my undivided attention....

everyone else disappears for an instant that seems to last forever...

The Stranger is Sober....

the only other sober person among a miniature world of drunks, blinded by their stupor...

with a reprise in my head of the chorus of a song by Chad Kroger and Carlos Santana i actually feel hope...

this might not be a bad night after all..

"Hi..."

"well hello there..."

"tempted to say something cheesy to try to convey how much id love to keep this going...but ill take a risk and go by something boring like i need some fresh air...care to join?"

"uh huh - & a smile"

We then take a long walk, forgetting about the drunken world behind us, with its loud music and designer attire...all the glamor and excitement behind us...for a new kind of excitement awaits..an excitement that might last way longer than one night...that needs no Gucci nor Prada to be glamorous that needs no Vodka to be brave, that needs no Cocaine to say the right things , no business card for me to remember it the morning after and no phone number for me to keep in touch with again. One would expect we talk about what we do when we aren't surrounded by drunks, show our pros and try to hide our cons...but actually..we conversed as if it were for the millionth time...small talk at its most trivial, humorous and definitely at its most enjoyable. The Hours were chitchatted away like wind gently blowing leaves off a tree.

The Parting was spontaneous...as if we are bound to meet again...no assurances, no guarantees but there was this inherent feeling of certainty this wont be the last time.

And i drive off...back into my world that awaits me....saying

Aaay yo ayyy yo ayyy yo ayyy and the voices ring like the Angels sing

Makes your heart grow wings and fly...dont it ?

" The Morning After i talk about the encounter with my friend who is skeptical about the whole thing and taunts me for my foolish behaviour that i shouldnt dwell on it...it just ends right there and there is nothing special about it... that stranger might be committed, might be not good for me...might clip my wings...ill lose my freedom...its just not time...the person i am with is safer...better for me... that stranger might be an assassin, a rapist, a serial killer, a freak, a player, or even worse...married.

I decide to take a second opinion...i seek the advise of the words of wisdom of my mentor..this is what my mentor tells me:

" As unwise as this might sound...such matters need not be decided in committees and closed chambers..no five year plans...and no votings..such matters need strong foundations you may only find in your gut...maybe your heart...we only live once..the lucky of us..maybe twice...that meet was in the utmost certainty an experience on its own... should you see yourself as a lucky person, one of the people who live twice...then search inside yourself for motivation...should you find it..then chase after this Dangerous Stranger...the stranger will not harm you nor give you grief nor time of day..."

What about the Risks O wise one?

"The Risks are well balanced with the rewards...Seek the Stranger...should the searching inside yourself prove fruitful..then you have nothing to fear...if such stranger is as you speak..then no change or expectation will be imposed on you...free will Grasshopper...free will.. that is what strangers advocate..."

What of the Dangers and Sacrifices?

" you are not asked to sacrifice...you will feel what is right later on...and such sacrifice will be of your own initiative...and hence not appear as a sacrifice...but what you want to do...as for the dangers...we are beings who thrive on danger...for danger brings drama...drama sells...look at Oprah...go Young Grasshopper...love...maybe even fall...play in the playgrounds of life... Dance with your Stranger...pull the devil out from inside of you...the stranger is a gift from the heavens...its so easy to tell..its a blessing from above that could save you from hell..."

Aay yo aay yo ayy yo ayy...and we daaaaanced on into the niiiiiiight!!!!