The Junkyard King

It's been a while, he said. It's been ages since anyone has seen him smile. That jovial infectuous smile that he was famous for, along with the upbeat demeanor he once possessed that helped him own an entire room.
But as most of people in the cesspoolish hellhole he lives in, It was only a matter of time when all that would be swept away with all the garbage the town spewed out every day and leave behind the dullish hues of his surroundings, and slowly he's blended into the picture that he is a part of. he's become a bitter and angry person, meeting all creatures that come his way with harshness, agression and hate. they were all worthless creatures that stood in his way.

"All the Good ones have gone" off to greener pastures, better opportunities and false liberty. he convinced himself its all the same, it was just one of many reasons he had to feed himself in order to stay in The Town, beleiving that shit is not only here, but everywhere. That he had something good going on for him, he was a king...yes its junk but still, he is its royal.
He fed off the sentimentality of others, their attachment and sense of belonging to his junkyard, but deep down inside he knew it was all crap; emotional crap that attaches living crap to physical non living crap. He was above that all and shed no opportunity to remind us all.


He was once a humble man, with humble beggings he tried to neglect. The times when he used to play with his little sister in a pile of rubbish. they'd make toys out of old coke cans and plastic bottles and weapons out of tinfoil. She once made a dress out of a plastic bag and wore nothing beneath it, it aroused him for the very first time in his life but again, it is one of the things he always forgets. he isnt brave enough to try to imagine if he had toys, real toys and played in a kids area not a pile of rubbish would he have come out the same? If his sister had real dresses would he have been aroused? probably not. Garbage, Trash, Junk...thats all he likes, because he creates things out of them. He doesnt need money, he just takes what everyone throws away, and they throw away plenty. In other towns they called recycling, he doesn't care about their fancy names and expensive clothes, theyre in another world, co-existing in the same spaces he occupies, and he feeds off of them invisibly.

When people see him on the street, actually...they don't see him, he's just as unnoticable as a dirty building, or an abandoned truck, he enjoys how disgusted people are when he approaches them, because they would then do anything to get him to leave, give him anything for him to go back to his world of dirt and junk that is all around them but they have mentally filtered out.

He takes what he needs, he claims it all, after we throw it away, and creates what he wants from it.
The ultimate creativity. an Artist of Creation, The Junkyard King.

Truly a King.