Just another one of them Dark, Sketchy Meetings

Meeting One: Sammy & The Unseen Man

He walked through the main revolving door at the entrance just like he was told.He crossed the marble floored hallway, just like he was told.Walked to the reception, at the sign that read "Concierge" just like he was told.

A small tingle shivered down his spine as he placed his palm on the counter for support, he was weak at the knees....It was getting to him.

It's Just one of those dark and sketchy meetings he convinced himself...the ones you enter into your calendar or Diary as a "Ma2moreyya" or "gym with trainer" to fool yourself into believing its not as big as what it really is...such a conundrum, an induced white lie for comfort..., not the recipients comfort, but that of the Liars..

for both persons are merely one and the same in this situation.

The concierge handed him an envelope with the agreed lie written on it"for Sammy..." it read.He flipped it over to open it, and reveal to his anxious eyes the contents. He was prepared until this moment. He was given instructions until this phase, the rest he will just follow.

he felt excitement,

he felt fear...

the two adjoined can be overwhelming.

The envelope contained a small 10 by 4 card..

a business card, same texture same thickness.. no details, just dead center in the middle it read....... Room 613.

He asked the bellhop for the directon to the elevator, he gestured him to head down the narrow corridor to the right, the one furnished with a red velvety wall to wall rug.As he walked down the narrow crevice, the air went stale, with a prominent whiff of cheap cigarette tobacco, he could tell its one of those old regal like hotels that are withering away with the times. neglected and left to rot.The perfect setting.

As he leaves the brass elevator door on the sixth floor, he looks left and right..he sees a brown wooden door, with a golden doorknob at the end of the corridor to his left, it read 611...so he knew where to head down.

He stopped in front of the door of 613, realizing finally that he has reached his destination. This is it, it will all be over soon. He recollected himself before knocking, formed his fingers into a makeshift comb and ran them through his hair three times, re-adjusted the knot on his brimmed tie, and fidgeted with the unshapely lapels of his raincoat, and knocked.The minimal force of the rap his knuckles made on the door while knocking just swung it ajar. Its open he realized.

He walked into a dark room, the lights from the outside seeped through the white silk curtains giving an air of blueish white to the room, the light reflected off the bed, the desk and mirrors. he didn't need to turn on the light to know he was in just another hotel room clean and neat. The arrangement of furniture screamed standard Hotel configuration. Bed faced by mirror and desk, TV on Desk, Closet to the right of the beds, bathroom right next to the door and a small table and arm chair across the corner by or in front of the balcony.The balcony sliding glass door was open, allowing a breeze to come in to give life to the white silk curtains.He could see an orange glow from behind the curtains, moving and glowing more intense after a movement...Cigarette he concluded, He awaits me outside.He passed through the curtains, only to find a white plastic round table, and two plastic white chairs on either side of the table. The farthest one, was occupied by a silhouette of a bald headed man in glasses, super fit, legs crossed over the table, ashtray in lap, and an almost spent cigarette that will be a butt in less than 30 seconds in his right hand.A voice said sit down, he didn't see the lips move, he can barely see the face despite the light source reflecting on everything else. He only assumed the voice was that of the man, since nobody else was around.

"It's a pleasure to.."

"Shut up..." Interrupted the unseen man.. "did you get it?"

The unseen man's voice was so raspy, it distorted in your ears.

" yes, here is the confirmation of the bank transfer.."

"Don't you just feel important saying that..? probably it lost its flavor ages ago...you said it a hundred times before to impress yourself, it gives you a false feeling of importance doesn't it? It also makes you feel important if anyone is listening in to your conversation, you think they would probably think you are some hotshot don't you... I just ask why? why do the likes of you have this unnecessary need to feel important, what have you invested...what did you put all your money on, what did you REALLY go through to have this need to reassure yourself that it paid off? you probably didn't get a bicycle for Christmas on your 8th Birthday because daddy had a bad year..or didn't have enough time to bother and get you a Christmas gift was that it? did that make you feel worthless? and hence you spent the rest of your life chasing recognition that you are worthy? was that what put you through the bullies at school , through an Ivy League education paid by a bank loan you probably paid off in less than 5 years of working your ass off for a fortune 500 company? did it also put you through the ruthless competition offered by your peers who wanted your next promotion for themselves? and you worked at it after hours with no overtime and through the night? till you proved yourself worthy to that unknown close to retirement manager in the corner office who was your ticket to board room meetings? which a few years later landed you with an incomprehensible title that sounds important? which in turn meant more zeros on your paycheck? it made you feel better about yourself didn't it? and to reward yourself you probably leased a nice two doored sports car? you think that's original? you think you are the only one on the planet who wants one? who can get one? well lets not get into that, but you probably think you are something, and felt it for a few years, until it got normal...boring, the usual...and then comes the need to be special again...the moment it was mentioned we will "utilize the services of a professional who can make our problems go away" I am sure you felt stunned...enthralled, wished you can personally be the one who goes to "utilize such services" and that's why you are here...all you want to do is feel important..

at a very high expense..

I wish i was your Father, I woulda just got you the fucking bicycle..."

Meeting Two: Horton & The Woman in Red Stilettos

His impeccably shiny cuff links glimmered across the place,attention to such detail only tells you how well dressed and well groomed this middle aged man is. He keeped his eyes fixed on the bartender as a comfortable space, he always did that when he was under the spotlight.

She was expecting an elaboration.

"look Selma, you have to understand, i will divorce her anyway you know these things take time".

"No, you understand you dick...I am not your Bitch...I am not a Bitch...you will not leave me high and dry after you took what you want.."

"That is why I am saying we should stop seeing one another, at least until I settle things with my Wife.."

"And what if you dont?"

"Then we dont keep a bad thing going..."

It took her a few seconds for her to fathom what he was implying. It shook her on the inside..like thunder booming all of her insides, she needed the few seconds to wait for everything to settle, then she can resume normal biological activity.

She resumed, more composed...she reached for her bag, and pulled out her phone, she said the following while she was fiddling with her phone, it looks like she was looking for something.

"you see,........................technology.........can...be a good thing..., back in the day...women in my position didnt...have anything to protect themselves with" she flipped the phone so he can see the screen...she gleamed in ecstacy when she saw the look on his face, she never saw his eyes so wide, they were big and wide enough that she can actually see the reflection of the images he is seeing now.

First he was shocked...

Then when the thought of how she had him grabbed from a very weak spot sunk in, the shock turned to fear,

and in an instant...

less than an instant actually...

the Fear turned into anger....

They were both old enough to be composed despite the provocation.

"Listen, I know exactly what you are, and i dont need to say it, I am sure you are smart enough to figure out what you are, what do people call the filth who do things like what you just did. Its sad really, it sad that you are weak enough to be a victim of circumstance, to let your past, your history and what you have gone through during your life dictate upon you what to become. You might have a noble cause, you crave security and provision much like any other woman. You were deprived of it with your first husband, instead of security he gave you imprisonment, and yes, he did provide you alright, he provided you with all sorts of cuts and bruises. The last straw was when he beat your second baby out of you. that was the last straw, and thats what everyone knows, ever since then and you have been conniving and plotting to get a man, a better one , one who will not beat you, one who will worship the ground you walk on, give you all you need and more. A mere creation of Fantasy, a man too good to exist, You must understand that men have limited means, if their means were unlimited they would provide endlessly, but an unchangeable fact is, they will always have limited means. Should you refuse to accept that, you will never be at peace...argue all you want, deny all you want, it will not change a thing, its like trying to scratch the wall with your nails. You think if you are nice enough, sexy enough they will fall and give you all you want. So you open your legs, you lift up your skirt.. but what you dont realize, that what they gave you before that, is all that they can ever give. So they dont budge, and you go on to the next one, theyre all standing in line, yes, they are drooling, yes they want you..you provide for them what their own wives should provide for...and then they label you as the Housebreaker when its the wives that shoulda taken care of their men...cause if they did their business.. you would be out of business. But what you dont get is, you would be silly to ever think they would give away what they had, what took them years to build and choose you over that...if it ever happens it would be that a good one of them is punishing himself and is trying to right his wrongs by taking you in, and losing what he held so dear as penalty for his infidelities, but you would be silly to think he wants you over them. You are nothing but an Orgasm..a minute of intense pleasure, then he goes back to his life again."

already in tears mid monologue, Selma sobs, sniffs and almost collapsing..her wrists weaken, she cant look him in the face anymore, and hides in her hair facing the table..

he lifts up her head from the chin..gently, looks into her eyes and says:

"You did that to yourself..

I would marry you just because its the responsible thing...

I would marry you just because i am sick and tired of the home i have

They lost me, you found me..

I dont need you opening your legs so that i can pierce you...and make you feel vunerable, or violated,

I know what you are..

I understand what you are..

but with that stunt you pulled, I really dont think we stand a chance...

if its security and protection you seek...just be a dear and hand me that phone..."

Meeting Three: Vincent and the Boy with No Hair

"sorry i am late" he said, as he grabbed a seat in the food court...

"its okay dad, work getting the best of you as usual i assume..."

"story of my life...so tell me whats going on with yours?"

"hows mom?"

"shes better..i just texted the nurse, she says theirs slight improvement with her eye movement..tell me, do you need money?"

The Boy was infuriated...but kept it all in...he can't beleive his father, he can't beleive that his father doesnt see it, he doesnt see that his neglect for everything in his life at the expense of his job is making everything else crumble, he cant see that what happened that day a few months ago was a final and desperate call for attention, that he has become a "pervert" as his father called him out of his loathing for his dad, he refuses to share anything with his father, even his fathers sexual orientation. He resents his father for what he has done, and he hates the concept of a family and what it represents out of what his father has done to him and his mother..

Of course the mother wasnt as strong, she got a nervous breakdown when she found out her only child was gay, she went into a coma and is improving slightly...All his father cared about was work, he couldnt get time off to care for his love of 30 years and decided to get a nurse...he texts her three times a day, and just works works works...you would assume he runs a country, but in the end its just a biotechnology company that does medical research and sells it to whomever is interested, pharmaceuticals, universities, governments, etc...

He even tried to think about things objectively..could it be that maybe his father was escaping? fleeing from the hardships of life in his job...distracting himself from all the problems he has to face, that he has failed as a husband? a father? a neighbour and a friend?

His Blackberry is his only friend....his only family, his company is his only son...

He ignored all that and said...

"yes, i will be needing money to cover my operation"

"what operation?"

"my sex-change operation"

Meeting Four: Just a Couple of Regular Fellows (inspired by that scene)

{Int. coffeehouse, smoky bar occupying far side of establishment, full house, waiters passing by with trays, noisy clatter of cutlery...zoom in on table mid-room...table for two...two middle aged men seated across one another Bobby & Al}

Al: so, you workin on something big

Bobby: [grimace] yeah..a lil bit

Al: you know, someone lookin at us now, would probably think we are friends...a coupla regular fellas..but theres something you gotta get, if it comes down to you...or the cop you are about to turn your wife into a widow..you're goin down!

Bobby: I do what i do best, i take out scores..and you, you do what you do best, try to take out guys like me...

Al: and what makes you think i wont be able to take you out?

Bobby: a friend of mine once told me...never let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat once you feel the heat..coming from around the corner.

Al: so what do you got to give me?

Bobby: A guy, old school...washed out, he now works on dirty jobs for fortune 500 companies...calls himslef "Murk", the fuck wears sunglasses at night and chain smokes... hes taking out some guy thats supposed to testify infront of a grand jury, about some biotech company doing human genome cloning...theyre american but have all their cloning activites in Hamburg, if you squeeze him, he'll give you all hes done in the past 20 years, ...Mob hits, gun running, clombian coke..the guy's a veteran

Al: whats in it for him..

Bobby: give him immunity...hes got all the dough he needs...the guy is smooth, try to involve the feds as well...theres a guy over there.. his name's Hoit..hes worked up a case on the guy..has a keen interest, the guy took out his partner over a decade ago...he'll help you...

Al: what are your sources..

Bobby: did a job with him once, we met at a Damien King party..hes good to work with...

Al: King?

Bobby: nah...King's an asshole..I meant Murk... will you get the check?

Al: nah, your treat this time...

Meeting Five: The Boardroom

Gentlemen, after obtaining quorum, I now commence the board 6th and final board meeting of Lifetech-Roslin for the year 2008, in the presence of the following individuals:

1- Myself Dr. Eliot Campbell Chairman of the Board

2- Mr. Vincent Mead Managing Director

3- Mr. Horton Finch Financial Director

4- Mr. Samuel Taurel Executive Director

5- Mr. Sid Goode of external legal counsel

After discussing the items on the agenda we have unanimously adopted the following Resolutions:

Resolution one : approving the minutes of our last meeting held on the 1st of October 2008

Resolution two: approving the financial balances proposed by Mr.Finch for the year closing December 31st 2008 to be finalized by January 10th 2009 and sent to our financial auditors for approval

Resolution three: approving the appointment of Sid Goode, of Goode, Marshall and Partners as external legal counsel for Financial Year 2009

Resolution four: removing the sum of 15,000,000 USD accrued for pending litigation and releasing them back into capital since charges have been dropped

Resolution five: Alotting 1% of annual profit to Research & Development.

With that, the meeting conlcuded and I thank the Atendees for their participation, Thank you..Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Nex Moribus Levum

"I lost my eye twelve years ago, The world has been half as interesting ever since."

The statement took Salamar off guard, its been a while since hes been taken by quite simple words. He was a man of action, hence immune to words. However it wasnt what was said rather than how it was said.

Salamar decided to give the speaker a closer look. "Hardly your regular handicapped" he thought.

The speaker was a tall fair skinned woman with jet black hair, probably dyed, and a green left eye with a subtle yet effective beauty spot a few decimeters below. The right one was covered in a black velvet eye patch, with clear white stiches at the seams, probably a designer thing. She had nothing else that was familiar about her face to be described, other than probably she'd remind you of Yasmine Bleeth.

Salamar always felt uncomfortable in the presence of pretty people, however her handicap confused him. This uneasiness he feels, is it because she is pretty, or because she misses an eye?

Her being pretty places her above him, her with only one eye places her below him, so is she above him or below him. A logical thought passed through his head to say shes probably in his place, for both attributes cancel each other out, but if that is so....

then why is he feeling uneasy?

probably because all 23 eyes in the room were on him, waiting for him to talk...

"Hello my name is Salamar....and Im an Alcoholic.."

"Hello Salamar!..." They all said in unsion.

"I dont want anything new...new needs change, and change scares me...it bears the equal risk of both success and failure, I just want to stick with what i know...and what i know is alcohol..I tried Golf..I might get better at it with time, but for now Im not Tiger Woods, Im not even close..But I am good at alcohol, and being good at something feels good..

I hate alcohol, I really do...my Liver cant take it anymore, it brings me headaches and i want to stop it..

Im just too good at it to stop it...

I stopped it since i started coming here, and ive been detached from everything, couldnt care less about anything, ran over a guy when driving home one night, lost my job and spent all my money on it...but its still the only thing i am good at..."

Joel has been bothered with what Salamar had to say from the moment Salmar opened his mouth, he wanted to say something. He waited for the right moment when it wouldnt be perceived as an interruption, and after introducing himself for the 100th time to the same crowd and getting the similar "Hello Joel" back...he said the following:

"Salamar..you really dont need to keep on going at something you hate just because you are good at it, I think your problem is with accepting that you failed, you are being stubborn, and by doing so you are just falling deeper into an abyss, it will only make your ascent all the more weary and longer, cause you've fallen too deep.

You need to work on accepting failure, its okay to be a failure..its not okay to do nothing about it let alone deny it...we all learn from our mistakes, and we rise out of them better people".

Salamar in his prime wouldnt have let this go, and would have argued to the last of his breath...however he simply told himself he cant be bothered. His response was filled with Silence.

The meeting continued with the next three speakers, all through which Salamar didnt get his eyes off the one eyed girl (hereinafter referred to as "OEG"), who in turn had her one eye focused on the watch high up on the wall.

As the meeting concluded, oeg grabbed her black coat and headed for the door. Salamar followed, he wished he wasnt daydreaming throughout the meeting, only then he woulda picked up her Alias, and he simply cant just yell One Eyed Girl dead into the corridor to attract her attention..I mean it most certainly done the job but that would be downright offensive. He at least had adherence to that.

she stopped outside the building to hail a cab. He offered a ride, she reluctantly accepted.

They talked quite jovially for a first meeting, and he felt a feeling he has never felt before...

He felt like he was good at something other than Alcohol.

For the following few months..he enjoyed the meetings, and the coffee with oeg after the meetings..and he really got to know her quite well, her name is Sylvia, she lost her eye in one of the many bouts of domestic violence she had with her ex-boyfriend. the rest is history he knew from the meetings...

Sylvia has been cold and reserved, and nonetheless cynical ever since her accident with her eye. She considered having a prosthetic eye but then shed pass for normal. She wanted the world to know she wasnt normal.

"Sylvia?"

"what.."

"you make me happy.."

"ok"

" I really would like to repay the favor...I want to do something for you.."

"go ahead"

"yes, but what would make you happy?.."

"I am happy.."

"Yes, but i want to make you happier, i want to show you what you did to me, how you made me feel..."

"get a grip...what did i do...i did nothing"

"no you did, and i want to show you, what can i do to show you?"

"I dont know"

Her mind automatically shifted to something else, as if it resolved that this issue is closed, and she said with her eyes lighting up..

"you know what would be cool? Robbing a bank... I always think its cool to stick a gun to a tellers face and say, i am making a withdrawl..., Dont you think its funny?"

It this point Salamar didnt know wether to feel offended, or realize that he hit a jackpot.

"I'd crush the stupid fuck's head in if i were you" Said Douglas...

" come on, dont be too egotistical Doug.."

"whats egotistical about it, the guy deserves it...now go fill up my glass will ya?"

" I thought you quit..."

"that was ages ago..."

"didnt you do AA?"

"AA is for sissies and that was before the promotion"

Douglas smiled as if he finally proved he's a wiseass...handed his flute to Eric for a refill, and smiled cockily as he spotted a hardbody of a woman in the corner,

"Hey, can i get you something to drink?"

"sure..."she said, as she revealed a very expensive smile and a tiny triangle shaped tongue flickered from between her lips to dampen the side of her mouth..

He engaged himself with small talk and a few jokes, until Eric came over with two flutes, one of them was seemingly Eric's...yet, Doug just took both, gave one to the Girl who apparently is wearing a Vera Wang, to match his Hugo Boss grey suit.

"Did you know that Vera Wang originally does wedding dresses Eric?...oh sorry, Eric this is Jaimie with an i-e , frankly i know no other jaimies...Jaimie this is Eric, my best friend..

Eric internally choked at the introduction...

"so now im The Ego's best friend" he thought..

In less than a second, Douglas left both Jaimie and Eric to go schmooze and socialize to a high powered suit that just walked onto the main foyer..

Eric felt really awkward standing next to a superhardbody like Jaimie, he knew she will leave in 10 seconds if he doesnt reel her in.

"Look its okay, he does it all the time...thats Doug Mason for you...anyways, Im Eric..."

"And I am not interested..."

The next day, Salamar was scheduled for picking her up to go to the meeting.

Only today, they werent going to go to the meeting.

After driving a few blocks away from her house he handed sylvia a ski mask and shotgun...

"What the hell are those for?!" She exclaimed

"I thought you wanted to rob a bank..."

"Sal.. I said its cool to rob a bank , i didnt say i want to rob one.."

A look of utter dissapointment befell Salamar's face..

"So you just want to go to the meeting?"

"Is there any other option...?"

"yes, we can rob a bank..."

"You are crazy...!"

"only about you..."

"Sal, I dont love you...Sal , i dont love anyone.."

"I dont care Sil...I just love you...now will we go Rob that bank?"

She stayed silent until he parked infront of a big business type commercial bank...he shifted the gear into park and said he didnt come here all dressed up for nothing. She told him that hes on his own, she will wait for him in the car.

He got out of the car..regretting everything he did in his life.

He is just one big Fuck up..

two seconds later, Sylvia joined him with the shotgun and ski mask with a smile on her face...

* * *

Salamar's Sister has been worried sick about him for a few days now, shes been deseprately trying to hear anything about him. She called everyone, everyone who cared. Nobody has heard of him...nothing. She waited by the phone. Any lead was better than sitting like that with nothing.

Her Heart stopped and beat back to life when the phone rang...it was her best friend Sherry...

"Elsa, i think you should open the news on channel 1"

"...Have been identified as Salvatore Olp aka Salamar..an unemployed Business Development manager and Sylvia Sumner a troubled Social worker...after questioning people on scene the investment manager of the bank revealed that his efforts to releive the situation were instigated when he identified one of the assailants as a troublesome ex lover, who has a history of violence..further investigations have proven that the first assailant, Olp was refused a personal loan from the bank six months ago...and we have now Douglas Mason Investment Manager of The Bank for comment:

"Its a shame that society fails to help troubled people with fitting in..the result of which is this atrocity that has taken place today..I tried to calm sylvia down but it seems that she already had her mind made up...it was like she woke up this morning, with the intent to die..I am sure this troubled man manipulated Sylvia, and used our personal history for his own financial gain. Its a pity and a reassurance that he avoided Justice by his demise today.."

"When asked about further actions, the Investment manager replied by saying that, this matter is closed, and he will be having "a quiet night with his girlfriend Jamie"

Welcome to my World said the Spider to a Fly

There it goes, buzzing around, minding its own business, going about its daily business with not a worry in the world. Merely a little pest, that can rest assured it will be at no risk unless it meddles with someone else's affairs.

Ti's a wise pest that little fly..for it cant be fooled.

Or so it thinks.

The fly's father told it of all the hazards life might pose to a fly, all the perils it might throw its way.

Do not be fooled by the allure of the Venus Fly Trap, for it can be deadly.

Always stay light on your feet, don't get too comfortable in one place, for its inevitable that you will have to go somewhere else. don't trust the ground under your feet. The only thing you can trust, are your wings. train them.

The only place you can feel comfort and security, is in the air where you report to no one, where your only enemy is gravity, and you were created to beat it , For God gave you wings.

Beware the Hazards of Bugspray...all it takes is one breath

The Fly took these lessons to heart, promised itself it will never be seduced by stability, for stability is nothing but the beginning of the fall.

*Buzz Buzz*

Probably if flies could whistle, our little fly would be right now. un-suspicious of anything in the world, in total confidence of its capabilities and judgement.

A little too cocky ain't we?

Ego...

Across the room, in the highest corner...laid a Web, intricately built, with patience and perseverance.

Attention to detail and infinite symmetry would be putting it lightly.

Along came a Spider, crawling effortlessly on what to many would be the tightrope above the waterfall.

No sticks for balance,

No arms for equilibrium,

Just an eight legged freak, cruising on the almost invisible.

I never knew these things were so durable, its very rare maybe even unique to find biological tissue that is actually non-biodegradable. I heard they make bulletproof vests out of spiderwebs,

You may crush the Web, you may remove it from its place, yet you can never cut a strand...not even with scissors, I tried...

*Buzz Buzz*

Our vain little fly was consumed with smelling its armpits ( in this case wingpits) that it didn't notice it was head on with a Spiderweb ( so much for compound eyes)

You had to see it, in slow motion, from the side...just like those crash tests with the dummies.

Denial...

You can watch the fly almost jetting through it like a bullet, but in the last second before it is free, just when the fly is pushing the Web to the limit of its flexibility...you see the whole web stretching with it.

And finally pulling back........

DOOM!

that's how the fly felt......

Nailed!

that's what the Spider thought....

Who put this Web here? why would a silly spider put a web my way...can't it realize i have somewhere to go? Damn these spiders...always messing with our schedules? I'll give that spider a piece of my mind when i see him..who the Hell does he think he is!!!?

Anger...

The Fly trying to writhe out of the situation, only to realize the more it writhes, twist and squirms, the deeper it entrenches itself into the bulletproof fabric...This is where our arachnid makes his initial appearance...

As it approaches the fly, it becomes more composed, more certain of its role...

The fly, can smell the Arachnid approaching,

So sweet..so different..

What you are actually smelling o little winged one is the familiarity of your fate..

You mean this is my end? does it all end here? Please dont let this be the end? i swear ill do anything.. ill come back every night but please let me go about my day...dont take my freedom away..i want to fly as i please..do what i please, ill be yours but ill do what i please..

Bargaining...

It recalls Papafly's with every effort, and is befallen by an unescapable fear of dissapointment, and shame..how dare I fall utters the fly...I am so much better? I am doomed..this spider will keep me in his webs..and only he can release me...when it does..it will be lunchtime for him...and endtime for me..

How i wish i would have done more...

How i wish i wouldn't have waited, thinking i have all the time in the world...

How i wish i wasnt so vain...

How i wish i would've watched where i was going..

Fine..go ahead...take me...

Depression....

I wont take you, not unless you want to be taken...all i do is set the trap, you fall in it..if you didnt, then i dont want you, this is my way of selection..that is how i select my prey..you passed the test, or you failed depending on which way you want to look at it.

Accept your fate,

It is what is meant to be..

As it is meant to be that you be taken wether you like it or not, It is meant to be that i take..wether i like it or not..

Isnt it possible that i might like being taken than doing the taking myself..

Its my nature,

I can't fight it...

Don't fight yours..

It's futile...

You wont win...

I wont win...

Fate wins..

in the meantime, welcome to my World, a world where everything hangs on a thread..yet stuck together by an intricate web...The Web is strong, but you can hardly see it, or feel its effect. Follow the lines and you will go wherever you want, whenever you want..the road has been already paved for you.

All is controlled...

My control..

Dont you find it appealing?

Dont you find it comforting?

Calm down...its not chaotic as you think, in fact it is not chaotic at all.

Its an Ante-World..a Purgatory..without the judgment, without the Punishment.

its seemingly chaotic, but actually theres an order to it.

Its the fear in you that brings about the chaos..

the fear of change..

the fear of losing control

The fear blinds you...it convinces you that it is chaotic, thats how it is seen from the outside, it makes it seem unappealing to others.., hence they flee...for they are superficial, and judge by exteriors..

you need not be afraid, look at the bliss others miss..

Do not fear losing control..

You need not be in control..leave that burden to me and enjoy..

I am in control

Trust me...

How do you like it?

Acceptance....

Boys Wanted

Boys of spirit, boys of will,

Boys of muscle, brain and power,
Fit to cope with anything,
These are wanted every hour.





Not the weak and whining drones,
Who all troubles magnify;
Not the watchword of “I can’t,”
But the nobler one, “I’ll try.”



Do what you gotta do,
With a true and earnest zeal,
Bend your sinews to the task,
Put your shoulders to the wheel.



Though your duty may be hard,
Look not on it as an ill,
If it be an honest task,
Do it with an honest will.



In the workshop, on the field,
At the desk, wherever you be,
From your future efforts, boys..
Comes a Nation’s destiny.

Hamlet : Revisited

Posted upon personal request:

"I saw him today, it was too surreal, this never happened I never thought it would..

Where was fate today, called in sick? it never should

Never should have happened, this abomination of destiny...

When a man meets his fathers killer, and greets him with intensity,

The sort you save for a cherished guest,

Or the riddance of a confounded pest,

Why do you ask? why should a man be put in this mess,

For it is expected of that man, to be in love with excess,

excess success, excess possessions,

enough to drown him, from the need of confessions.

He dream t of War and dream t of Peace,

Unvanquished victory, and the fighting would cease,

The looting of spoils for it is fair game,

But War and Peace to him were the same,

Same battle same enemy, not against orc or elf...

The War , The Peace were both with oneself..

The Spoils extravagant, the Satisfaction a plenty,

His wealth two folded, multiply it by twenty,

A Nimrod created to walk the earth,

An evil beast, destined from birth,

The same beast who loved and cared,

For his prized possessions which he always shared,

Cleansing the dirt he feels and no one sees,

His passion for Goodness, apparently would fill up streams,

Along the way, he made some friends, but always more enemies,

One would haunt him and rid the world of his felonies,

The One that would haunt him, always overlooked,

Expecting it to come from the owners of the Billions you took,

The Billions you took, looted and plundered..

Their cries in your heart, never really thundered,

But O what is Money next to The Soul of a man,

The Soul of a man, who did all he can,

All he can to live, and constantly provide,

for his Son was raised on principle and pride,

His Son has always sworn to bring you down,

And so he starts his journey to your town,

On a Dark Knight in the Hazy Shades of Winter he asks him about his Unfulfilled Dreams,

About Chances, first and second, for nothing is what it seems,

About your Choices, black or white, your lessons from the highway,

Do you regret you did things your way?

Dont you see the anger, the anguish your choices made?

Cant you see how much it cost? and the price to be paid?

A Lifetime of Parting, Crusaders will Raid?

Intruders meddling, they will always ask..

For Loving a brother instead of another is no easy task.

You chose yourself over your own brother,

You shamed yourself, You shame your mother,

How dare you kill him, what would be the excuse,

my dear dear uncle,they are of no use..

let your billions help you..let them help you squirm..

But beleive me O old one, in hell you will burn..

I vowed revenge from the day i knew..

But wouldnt that make me just as bad as You..."

Picture This

A Black Camaro SS with with racing stripes, ferociously thumping against a stretch of road in the middle of nowhere. The day couldnt be more sunny. Its hot, but the speed brings about a cooling breeze, mixed with the heat coming from under the hood, it gives the driver a bitter sweet sensation.

The playful sensation brings about playful thoughts. Love and Hate are one and the same, both feelings, both can be experienced with intensity. Both reassure the same fact, you are alive, and you feel..

You hate standing in line, its painful, and partially degrading..but the pain of it, the degradation, reassures you that the reason you are standing is important enough for you to go through the pain. Masochism, maybe..

For as far as he can see, its nothing but road, road and a horizon of endless desert and clear blue skies, a couple of gliding birds, hawks maybe even vultures scouring the dichromatic image of blue and yellow. He knows where he is going. He has never been more sure of a destination in his life. The journey cannot be more perilous. Its vast, its desolate and if he stops, theres no where to go.

To top it all off, hes low on fuel. He consumed alot of it on other pointless journeys.

This one isnt pointless.

Its probably the most significant of them all.

He thought the same about all of them.

However,

Never before has he seen such determination from himself,

Never before has he tolerated such perils..he doesnt even flinch,

If the car putters out of gas, he has no problem pushing it the rest of the way.

If he gets too tired, he will abandon it and keep walking, he can get another one when hes there.

If he gets too heavy for his legs to carry, he will lose weight by chopping an unnecessary limb.

He must get there,

Its what he dreamed of acheiving all his life, and nothing of what he dreamed of in the same time.

He knows this is it, because that is what his tongue told him.

He never doubts his senses.

Yes the Bottle is made of glass..

Yes the label reads Heinz

Yes the condiment is red,

But he knows Mustard when he tastes it...

He wants mustard, He loves the bitterness, the playful taste, how bitter and ominous it can be only to releive you with smoothness afterwards.

He can't find mustard anywhere...

He only found it inside a bottle of ketchup.

Ketchup is cool though, everyone thinks Ketchup is the Condiment, he doesnt..

to him its only good on fries..yet he still eats fries with salt and pepper.

everyone thinks hes after ketchup, but is afraid to admit it , to retain coolness and originality.

But beleive it or not

he hates ketchup

and hes persuing mustard disguised as ketchup.

Twas the Man in the Turban that told him of the legendary Ketchup looking Mustard. He hates Turbans, but was intrigued..

He wants Mustard...

He needs Mustard..

He values it to the extent that hed want to keep it from the world, so what better mustard to indulge in, than one that disguises itself as an ordinary condiment...

Ketchup... he traveled the far corners of the world to get this special mustard, he pseudomorted in mexico, congregated with Arms Dealers in Europe, was almost bitten by a rattle snake, was burnt in a car accident, was run over by a runaway smiling japanese car colored like the sky, subjected to carvel like sexual harassment, engaged in unruly celebrations of hate... had an army of dancing overlords chase him in a parking lot..took up an alias, lived in cheap motels, had all his personal belongings thrown out of his window, temporarily deafened, attacked by wild ants in the woods, fallen out of an airplane above the city, crossed three countries in one day, catered to the whims of an Excloosive princess...

He'd go for so much more,

This is nothing next to how much he loves mustard..

Mustard makes him feel like The One,

Mustard makes shit taste like steak..

Mustard soothes him,

Mustard sends him secret messages in the middle of the day

Mustard would stay up all night in preparation to feeding him the next day

Mustard pleases him,

Mustard smothers him..

Mustard helps him inhale both air and smoke

Mustard helps him exhale both air and smoke

It makes him buff up and lose weight

It devours his old T-shirts with Stains, and makes him buy new ones

And this is merely the beginning...

Picture This, Your life is a Burger, We are all born with burgers, the same, the burger in a bun..what we do with our lives is the filling, some add cheese, some add pickles, some add lettuce, some tomatoes, some all , some leave it plain, some a combination.

But all, without exception must have a sauce on top to actually make it an edible burger..

a livable life..

33rd Floor, Six windows from the Right

On the 33rd Floor, Six windows from the right stood a man. A man with tall wavy black hair, all coiffed up in a hairdo quite similar to that kid who does superman in smallville. The man was quite tall, almost filling the entire length of the panoramic floor to ceiling windowpane. Dressed in a black pants and a crisp white shirt with the first two buttons unbuttoned, you can tell hes back from a glamorous night. He stood by the window, perching his right forearm on the pane, The left one balled up into a fist and resting on his waist. You could tell from his face that he was in a deep state of pondering, not thinking, but pondering. There's a difference you see, Well according to him, cause that is what he always told anyone who would dare intrude on his thoughts.

For Thinking, is you recollecting a particular event, assessing it or your performance, or someone elses performance in reaction, the effect of it, and then an expected course of action about it if its not yet settled. You are in control, and mentally occupied by a particular and specific, maybe even pending event.

Pondering, on the other hand..is Wandering ( that is probably why they rhyme) into the fields of your mind, thinking about whatever your conscious throws up to you. You arent in control, you arent thinking of something in specific, and hell you arent determined on conjuring up some sort of resolve.

Anyways, now back to that man at the window on the 33rd floor, sixth window from the right. He's a doctor. a heart surgeon actually. not exactly the most famous but slowly on his way there. Which in itself is quite an accomplishment for his age. His pondering was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was one of those knocks that are followed by an opening door, they merely inform you of someone coming in rather than requesting your permission. An Elizabeth Shue type walked into the room dressed in home comfy clothes walked in. She wore grey sweatpants and a wool-like V neck Cardigan that fell at the right shoulder. If it was hers then she probably lost copious amounts of weight if the label read "Tight Fit". She walked into the room Cautiously yet warmly...maybe even sympathetic, but you can tell it wasnt her fault.

"So how was it?" She asked
He was open to answering, but was interrupted by the sound of a vibrating phone on the plush Duvet covering the bed. It was the Hospital calling. Its probably an emergency. Frustrated, he picks the phone up, slips it into his pocket and leaves.

On his drive over to the Hospital, in his Sporty Volvo..he had flashbacks, images of Elizabeth Shue allowing herself to sit on the Bed, and nestling her hands in her lap, showing her apparent attentiveness. How he should've looked there , when all he can look at and ponder about is why is a cable repairman on the building across working on a rooftop at 1am in the morning dressed in a white gown.."Probably some lunatic" he thought..
While parking in the Hospital's lot, he was about to run over a hobo while reversing into his reserved parking spot. He cursed at him and at his likes, thinking as to why dont they just get a job, or better yet commit suicide.

He walks into the Hospital Hallway, so full of himself. He is in his element, after years of studying and literally looking into the insides of people, so why shouldnt he be full of him self. He has achieved what so many have yearned for and failed. He cures people, gives them second chances in life..helps them fight something looming to take away their life, and are helpless..he makes miracles, he is divine.
He knows that thinking like that is downright wrong, but he just cant help it..plus, he is entitled,or if someone were to be allowed to think in this manner, it ought to be him. A little voice inside of him on the other hand tells him he will be punished for his thoughts, especially if he does act upon them, even if subtly. He fears that if God shows him who really is divine, he wont be able to handle it. He shelfs the thought in his head, right between "where to take Elizabeth Shue this Christmas" and " What was the effect of Exenetides on the gastro-intestinal centers of the CNS". He is prepped by his medical team on the patient he has to operate on. He asks very short questions the answers of which are shot back to him by a woman in green scrubs taking her job way to seriously and in a tone similar to a National Security Advisor briefing the president about a Nuclear Crisis. He finally walks through the door of the operating room which he secretly nicknamed the pearly gates.. for whomever is rolled into here on a stretcher is guaranteed heaven by his mere touch...
nasty thoughts, nasty thoughts...i should shelf them he thought...

With "La Donna E Mobile" booming out of a small boom box in the corner, he stands elbows out.. palms facing in at the height of his chest, waiting to be fitted with latex. pulls up the mint flavored mouth guard and works his magic.

the gloves were all bloodied up, scalpel in hand , with the patient gutted open like a fish, he was whistling to the tune and enjoying his handiwork.. he notices peculiar movement from the corner of his eye, he imagined the patients head move. he pauses...checks the ECG, heart rate stable and normal for someone under anaesthetic.
Just as he was about to put the scalpel to the patients Aorta, he hears a groan...
"did someone just groan?"
"No doctor".
The scalpel makes contact with the artery..he hears a chuckle..followed by a very eerie.."Stop..that tickles"
He just Jolted...and the scalpel falls out of his hand into the patient's insides..
"Shit!"
The medical team stares at the Doctor in awe, they are in the presence of legend...how can he slip up like that.. the lady with the Natsec tone tries to assure himself by wondering how much stress he must be under and asks him, "Doctor, are you tired?"
One of the Junior residents holds a flash pen and is cautiously looking for the scalpel inside the patient while the Doctor pauses and collects his cool. He closes his eyes only to see a face.. A white, pale wrinkled face with a sombre stare. its the patients face...
"Have we met before?" asks the doctor
"yes..a few hours ago"
"you were at the Gala Dinner?"
"No later.."
He just realized that he is having a mental conversation with a patient he is currently operating on, he really is loosing it..
"Doctor we are loosing him!!"
The Doctor snaps out of it.. and issues a salvo of orders ranging from extra adrenaline dosage to jump start the soon to be carcass on the operating table, and to start up the refiblirators to give him a charge.
the Natsec Resident interrupts the Doctor, objecting to the order, telling him that the patient has been comatose for a few weeks, revival is impossible.
"how? he said he was just with me.."
"DOCTOR!"
- flatline-

The eerie humming beep of the ECG always did haunt him...it is a bell that tolls when he fails......
he snaps the latex glove off his hand, and tosses it into the patients gut as if he were a wastebasket. Walks away..semi nauseous, and utterly dazed by what happened to him in there, and how he lost it.
trying to make sense of it all he walks into the elevator in his now bloodied scrubs..forgetting to change..
he presses the button for the ground floor.
Elevator doors close...
Elevator descends..
lights out...
Elevator stops between floors..
the lights flicker back again but dimmer than before...but keep flickering in a strobe light kind of effect. he sees the patient...standing next to him, smiling..with his gut opened up yet nothing falling out..the patient reaches into his chest cavity, starts moving things around and pulls out from his insides a bloodied glove and scalpel and tosses them at the Doctor's feet.
"I think these belong to you.."
The Doctor, fear stricken and close to a heart attack just stares..
"Why are you doing this to me" yells the Doctor
"Im not doing anything to you..You'd be silly to imagine the world revolves around you..oh well, what do you expect from a Nimrod like you...but while we're at it, thanks for the lovely job..my wife will love it im sure.."
And just while he was about to walk off..The Doctor stops him...
"Wait!....where did i see you before..?" inquired the Doctor.
" I was up there on that building...i saw you in the window pondering...33rd Floor, 6 windows from the Right.."

Reign on Me

He looked alot like Stuart Townsend, but a far more exhausted version. He sat in the corner of the room. The room was padded with worn out greenish brown wallpaper that even looked too tacky the decade it was rolled on. It was tattered and torn to form a makeshift collage between it and the wall it is supposed to blanket.

The faucet in the bathroom was dripping. So was the drool in the corner of his mouth.

He just sat there, in an upright fetal position chin resting on his knees, and his arms hugging his calves..

With his cold blatant stare glaring outside the window...the chaotic view of the street from the fourth floor wasnt all that flattering. he didnt budge an inch when the tram passed by the cheap hotel. You would think he was catatonic. but something about his eyes tells u he has no problem moving and this state is merely induced by choice. The look of Despair on his face was unmatched.

The black telephone set on the bedside table rang. its headset shook from the vibration induced by the ringing bell. it just kept ringing, he didnt budge.

Ten minutes later, someone is knocking on the door persistently.

A muffled voice came from behind the wooden door.

"Mr. Riddick are you okay?"

"Mr. Riddick please open the door"

Finally, he budges..he lets out an booming growl, and leaps from his crouching position to the emergency stairwell right out of the window, and slowly descends to the street. A few minutes of walking mechanically down the street , menacing at every onlooker. He walks into a club entrance called "Cesspool 8" , the bouncer with a deep commanding town asks him for a reservation. He just stares at him expecting the bouncer to understand he doesnt have one.

The Bouncer examines Riddick one more time to see if he can let him in, the guy looks like he could use some fun...is he a threat to the crowd? hmm... well only if provoked....the bouncer thought, but he stinks, smells like he hasnt showered in weeks. The shirt is drabby, sneakers...sorry dude, wish i could help...managements orders.

"Sorry sir, you cant come in without a reservation"

"I could really use a drink...."

The bouncer sympathizes with him,

"Theres a bar a few blocks down, ask for Sid...tell him Hank sent you."

Riddick heads towards the general direction of the Bar. he passes by the alley behind Cesspool 8. he sees something ruffling in the darkness. As he approaches he can smell the scent of two people in heat. They barely notice him, they are too preoccupied with what they were doing. With the girl cornered up on the wall by the man, Kissing wildly, she couldnt have the chance to warn the man with what peril was looming behind him.

In less than a second, the mans hand that was leaning on a wooden plank for support is struck dead in its center with a blade, you can hear the blade finally striking the wood after it penetrated the entire depth of his hand.

He screams in Pain. The Pain makes him buckle to the floor. The Girl is paralyzed in fear.

a raspy male voice sings in his head "Ohh Mary...Mary, it doesnt show but i can tell that you're so scared!"

He stares at the Girl...tries to comfort her..

"His name!"

"Howie, Howie Meyers"

The man on the floor is pleading for someone to get the knife out of his hand. Riddick twists it. the man passes out from the pain.

" Give me your ID",

she complies..."Now i know where you live...you say anything, i will come for you..now go home.."

He takes Howie's clothes, and knocks on the alleyway entrance..

the peephole slides back...he sees a set of black eyes.

"Howie Meyers" he days

The Slide goes back to its original position. a few seconds later, metal clanking and the door opens. he walks in and is hospitably gestured to come in and enjoy his stay by the owner of the black eyes. The Club is Eerily inviting, with its black marble floors, and green luminecent tubes turn every crack into something out of a science fiction movie, the lighting although quite neopunkish is far from distracting. theres a rail..as he approaches he can tell he will like what he sees. He walks closer to the rail..the music raging in his ears, thumping at his heart..moving all his internal organs,

Dum

Dum

Dum...

"Pause"

"He can see the people!"

Dadududududududududududududududm

"Enter the melody"...

Riddick's state far surpasses Euphoria, with his new clothes and new identity, hes transformed himself into another man. He owns, the Dancefloor, the people on it, The DJ...everyone. The Music has given him that power, for he who enjoys the music the most, and allows it to touch his soul is the most powerful of all of them. He modeslty approaches the bar to congregate with his slaves. a pretty one notices him and his loud velvety red shirt and italian seam black trousers.

"Kate.."

"Howie.."

Back in the Hotel room, everything is Dark, not how he left it at all. He left all the lights open and the TV on, now its pitch black. the bed is made, the faucet isnt dripping anymore, it actually smells fresh. The Door is swung open violently to the extent it nearly rips off of its hinges. A man carrying a woman perched up on his chest fumble around the neighbouring walls, chuckling..and she is squealing mid chuckles. They land on the bed. As he begins to undress her, she turns on the lamp.

He Stops.

Runs to the corner and sits just like how we first met him.

She goes to sit next to him, ruffles his hair and asks him what is wrong.

"Shes gone..." he said..

"who?"

"Cheryl.."

"Cheryl who..?"

he looks at her all wide eyed and angry... and yells "You' arent Cheryl!"

"Man you got issues, i am outta here.."

As she rises up to leave, he slits her heels with his blade, first they rip through her mesh stockings, then the skin.....then the artery, hes messy...he ended up with blood specks on his nose.

"You Freak!" She shrieked while she tried to grab onto anything for dear life.

He observed what he carved up out of her after he was finished. like a craftsman finally assessing his handiwork, like an artist admiring his finally finished portrait. he felt power, followed by doubt,

Remorse,

Pain.....

He remembered why he does that.

He misses Cheryl.

Cheryl used to light up his life, the source of his livelihood , she'd make the world beautiful. her power to solve any of his problems with a mere smile. She was everything to him, baby, girl, woman, teacher, even mother sometimes. he realized he had never lived before he met her.

What surprised him is, the first time he whispered i love you into someones ear was in a girl called Cheryl...not her , but another Cheryl, when he was a young boy.

The first time he had a car accident , was with a girl named Cheryl as well.

His most recent Car accident , was with Cheryl.

Only he survived.

fifteen minutes later, his reminicing session was interrupted by violent knocking on the door.

"Mr. Meyers, we heard screaming is everyone in there okay?"

"Mr. Meyers, please open the door".

- Thanks to Marilyn Manson for the lyric and the general feel of the post, And thanks to the real Cheryl, who should know she has the power to do that-

The Legend of the Man in The Long Black Coat and Gailee Zucchini

It sort of started like this:-

On a Friday afternoon, a Man in a long black coat walks into their dreary town. He seems to have crossed quite a distance, as he has gathered up different layers of dust on his clothes. his face always covered by shadows, be it the shadow from a leering building, or a nestling tree, he was always hidden in a sillhoutte of scarce shade in a very sunny and dusty town.
The weather was hot and dry..dusty but the water in the brook was high for this time of the year..
Gailee walks out on the porch with a dish under her arm full of fresh washed clothes. with washing line clips in her mouth she was ready for her battle with the hurricane of a breeze , and the dust it brings along with it. She saw the Man, no...actually she just saw the coat..walking by the brook. his footsteps rustling the dust settled on the bank. His pace reminded her of a Black Bull she once saw when she was a child. A memory of strange times in a stranger land, long forgotten.

Not a Word, not goodbye , not even a note...
She was gone with the man in a long black coat..

That night they had a celebration at the town hall. people were singing, dancing or merely hanging around...they were all there, young old , frail robust, everyone in town.
He made another appearance. At the forefront of the hall, stood the man in the long black coat..with a peaceful sneer on his face, looking at the townsfolk, he suddenly looked at her.
He Winked
Gailee blushed,
The Townsfolk noticed,
The Man left
Gailee ran out discreetly to avoid any further embarasment .
Hes Gone.. but then she notices something out of place , something lying on the white gravel...
A Little Black Book...
She picks it up and peers in side..its empty, but it has a dedication on the first page..it said
"To Gailee..." . Something inside of her moved, shifted, she never got a gift from someone before..at least not someone like that..she gathers up whatever awareness she has and tries to hide the fact that she is daydreaming her mind out about him.
As she enters into the hall again..she notices that he has stirred up quite the commotion.
"Who is this, this man in a long black coat,"
What business does he have in our little town?"
She smiled in the corner, knowing something that nobody else knew...it was a done deal..

It aint easy to swallow, it sticks in the throat,
She gave her heart to the man, in the long black coat.

The next day, the preacher was talking, he gave a sermon saying that every man's concience is vile and depraved, you cannot depend on it to be your guide..it is you O human that must keep it satisfied..

Some body said, from the Bible..he'd quote,
There was Dust on the Man in the long black coat.

McGraw, the Town Bully...came up to the man...and told him to flee town, he is no longer welcome. The Man bent over to Mcgraw and whispered something into his ear,turned around and left the church. Mcgraw's face reddened, and he followed the man outside. all the onlookers went outside to see what was going on. The Man and Mcgraw went over the hill.

Silence...
The man emerges from behind the hill...heading east..
McGraw does not..

There are no mistakes in life, some people say...
it is true sometimes you can see it that way...
People don't live or die, people just float
She Went with the man, in the long black coat,

Theirs smoke on the Water, its been their since June,
Tree trunks uprooted beneath the high cresent moon,
Feel the pulse and vibration, and the rumbling force,
somebody is out there, beating on a dead horse,

She never said nothing, there was nothing she Wrote, she went with the man in the long black coat..

Thanks Bob, i Owe you

Some Fucking Nostalgia

This isn't exactly what i signed up for,
I expected less, I expected simple..
I expected having my own little world, with the people i chose, and shut out the rest completely.
I don't like the world i see, and hell i can't do anything about it.
How am i supposed to make do?
I guess ill have my own little bubble...where the fantasies that fueled my smiles when i was 7 return...to fuel my squints, winks, and maybe even smirks...
But they wont even let me blow my own bubble and live inside it. They all don't want me to find happiness.
Yes i am blaming them, because my interests do not harm theirs...but theirs do harm mine
Who is the bad guy now?
Seebooni fe 7aali........ana geet gamboko?
In my quest i have seen, met and heard the wierdest sights, the strangest people and the absurdest statements, and i wonder again, how did i end up into all of this.

The Beach: its exactly like the good old days when id pick my surfboard (yes i did have washboards one day) to catch a wave, you wait for it, go with the flow and let it take you to the shore where you want to go. but then something happens, the wave is wilder than you expected...the tip of your board rises too high...you cant keep your balance, and you are engulfed back first into the wave in its final battle in futile fury...
You try to resist, and realize that its not exactly the best idea, you let go...wondering where you will end up...and you end washed up on the shore with alot of sand in your swimsuits, hair, and even in your mouth. you look at yourself and say.......okay, this isnt exactly what i had in mind, and you ask yourself why did i take this wave?
The problem is, the analogy isnt even correct, cause in reality you only get one wave... but its what the wave does to you that best describes it..

1. a looming tower of water that intrigues you to take it
2. a wild ride
3. a Very sandy landing
4. a dissapointing destination with possible damage

Question is, am i dissapointed?

You see i love building fortresses in the sand too but i always hated having the sand stuck between my nails, the problem with playing in the sand is, it gets pretty messy...but hey you are there...so why dont u just play in the sand...humans are ground creatures, if they were meant to conquer the sea, God would have created them with fins...or even gills...plus a fortress on the shore will last..till the tide at least, or some wad zareef who will kick it once u leave the beach as for the wave...its gone after u ride it...only to be replaced by another...

and another...
and another..

The Commute: sometimes, your job takes you across town, sometimes across the street, and alot of the times across the world, the last two cant really be called a commute, so ill stick to the first one. In a city loaded with traffic, you always have two paths, the direct one which is predictable, secure, yet normal, the easy route..and then theres the other way out, the one with the wierd sights..the risky weaving through traffic, and the stupid slow drivers in the way. Very stressful, not always guaranteed to take you where you want to go without significant damage to both your car and mood, but law salka...beteb2a SALKA...and you will get to where you want to go with your navy blue Jalopy faster than the next mofo with the fastest and reddest Ferrari in town.
You can take it, the beggining of the route beckons...you look at your watch and assume, its a win or lose situation could be salka or could be hell. You take it...
mid way you realize it was a wrong move. should you repeat your mistake and take another shemal fe yemeen on a parallel route? or just eat the toast you burnt?
I mean you can always be just late and blame it on traffic...
yet all roads lead to Rome...
No matter which route you take, you will always get where you want to go.

The Dinner: sometimes, your Social life takes you to sit down and have dinner with different people, some of them are pleasant, and leave an impression making you want to repeat it. some of them arent all that proper and you lose the number as soon as you close your car door. Some of them recommend a dish, engage in talk that you just don't want the night to end...to the extent that the restaurant manager doesnt want you to leave and asks for your number to give him pointers..Not because he thinks you are the shit...its because who you are with makes you the shit...
and some of them kill the flower on the table, or put their feet up, emit gastrointestinal noises mid-meal, or just lunge at you in the middle of a no longer discreet arguement and make you wonder how did u end up here exactly?
Despite all that, there is always the eternal dilemma of what dish to choose...
everything sounds delicious on the menu...but alot of the time when the dish is served on the plate right between your fork and kinfe you ask yourself...did i order this? Hell i dont want that...should i ask the waiter to take it back? what if he spits in it? will i have to pay for it and the other thing i ordered?
or should i just eat what i have been served...some people cant afford a grain of rice in Africa.

However, Them africans have access to shitloads of Diamonds, you could have just taken the bridge, or build that fortress on higher ground where the tide, and the 3eyal habla cant really reach it. And there is always the option of taking another street, catching another wave, or waiting till your next meal.