12 July 2016

A Witch is Born

I wish there was something more I could say to explain why I'm so closed off from the world, but I've never really had a close relationship with my feelings.

When I was young, I experienced every negative event a child should never even bare witness to, let alone shelve upon her shoulders as a growing collection of future obstacles to personal success.

My world was small, and it shrank every year as I continued to remove people from my circle of trust.

03 July 2016

Meeting Goblin

Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, places, or anything else is impossible since this fiction was born of my wild imagination. Safety forced people.

When I first met Gabrielle Godblood, Gobbie familiarly, she was just some dude's girlfriend that I just met and would probably never see again. But the night I met him, it was a night that altered my path from it's unsteady course, to the one where my life continually unfolds each future moment, wave after wave, which immediately dissolve into past, leaving me just enough beneath my feet to propel myself forward into the next wave, and so the cycle continues again, allowing me to experience the essence of the Eternal Tao.

When I first heard that Tao literally translates to "a man running on a path," I brushed it off as interesting but otherwise completely irrelevant to me, as I had no interest in adopting any beliefs or religions anybody else was practicing, including the mainstream Judeo-Christian rituals I was convinced were pointless, since I had lost my faith at around the age of ten, give or take a year or two.

My future was no longer a sentence to be carried out well into retirement. The train that derailed at the start of her life's journey finally corrected the heading. Though steering towards the same goal does not imply that the original path and adjusted path are either the same nor do they achieve the same results. That is to say, if I was off course from my destination, then when I turn towards it from whatever course I was on, it doesn't have the same effect on me that I would have experienced had I never lost my faith in Our Creator at such a young age.

That night I met a social predator, who I think actually wanted to sleep with Gobbie, even though her boyfriend House was supposedly this dominant alpha male and this slimy womanizer's alleged close friend. However, he was a smooth talker with a very high emotional quotient (Not Gobbie, someone else), which put him at the top, the apex predator (socially), but lacking honor and loyalty, he earned the name "B-guy." But social bullying can quickly turn criminal if that line is crossed, making it more serious. So that fool turned out to be the catalyst that showed me how to hop into a more hip life; which I think is the more interesting tale. The story of how music restored, or perhaps replaced, the void left from a child's grudge with her Maker.

However, that predator was not alone. As it turned out, I was always being hunted by predators since I was little. It was a dream that I started having shortly after emigrating here. When it started reoccurring, it grew into nightmares that always started the same, but each had a unique ending every night. They would start with me being at home, either inside or on the lawn right outside. My family would then approach me, keep in mind, I was the youngest, so half the size of the next youngest sibling. As they drew near, they would each tear off the skin on their face and shoulders. And every time, they would reveal that they're alligators and I'd be surprised and horrified nightly. Maybe it was crocodiles, I was too young to understand them as two different animals back then. And then, I would run, and run, and run.

So, they all turn and advance like zombies, but as fast as I run, they always managed to eventually outpace me with their zombie-style gator walk; similar to penguins is how my dreams had them moving once the fake skin came off. Another time, my teeth all fell out, so I tried to call a time-out but they didn't stop attacking, so I just ignored them because I was so worried about my teeth, and it was the only time that they ever caught me in those recurring dreams; all other times I'd wake up screaming or crying or both before being eaten by them. Another time, all the neighbors joined them, so I darted through the crowd--that dream seemed to go on endlessly for hours, with every neighbor joining as I ran passed all the houses. Cause I didn't know anything other than houses and the block I was not allowed to leave. So, in my dream, my world was one long street with houses just like ours extending endlessly in either direction.

I think now, looking back, it was the feeling of not having somewhere to arrive at when I run to safety, without a country to call home, become overwhelming as it brewed inside the unfamiliar foreign land I now call home. So, that's some chasing in my early youth for a good few months, which relates to B-ryde and his aggressive behavior. Those details seem minor now in comparison with what I ended up discovering for myself soon after.

So one day, I'm having a beer at a bar a solid twenty minute walk from my fancy, overpriced condo. There were others along the way, but this was the new trendy hot spot, and near my old apartment from years back. I lied to my girlfriend at the time just to get an hour or two away from nonstop depression, and her constant crying and refusal to medicate the condition led me to the conclusion that she simply wasn't happy with me, or at least she wouldn't be happy with me in the long run, so I set her free, no matter how perfect she was. 

Queen's Party

"I don't see why these people can't afford to drop ten thousand credits for an open bar for a thousand of their friends for four hours, I mean sheeeyitte!" The queen argues back. 

"Open bar is usually ten credits per person per hour, so for three hours..."

"Four hours," she interrupts, curious to see what insight I might eventually offer. 

"Four hours," I continue, "still, you charge for three hours as a discount, so thirty credits times one thousand people is thirty thousand credits." Her eyes light up as she glances over at the king in astonishment. "Just charge each person individually rather than a flat rate in advance and you triple your take for the gala," I finish. 

"We can't," she argues, "We need a license to violate the peace agreement of selling spice at a party on that planet."

"But isn't that planet under goblin rule?" I ask. 

"...and we don't know these people," she continues, interrupting me and ignoring my question, "any one of them could..." She stops. I got the idea, no need for wasted words that don't contribute to the solution at hand. 

"Then we charge a flat fee per person and drinks are free," I offer. 

"Well how is that different than paying the ten thousand flat for the party? The host will rather pay the ten thousand credits flat in advance," she argues back. The great king remains quiet on the couch across the room, allowing us to argue out a solution. 

The representative of the hosting planet interrupts, "they said they might want to bring their own spice and spiced drinks," testing the arithmetic between us to see where he can loophole a cheaper rate. 

"If they bring their own, you'd still violate the peace accord," I offer. 

"I don't understand," the representative sneaks in between our open discussion of business strategy. I would have opted to discuss the business strategy in private, but comprehension is not a requisite for cooperation; not for me, and certainly not for this lowly representative whose name wasn't even offered in introductions. The phrase 'comprehension is not a requisite for cooperation' is becoming more and more famous throughout the kingdom as people continue to question the presence of a zen master among the goblin king's ranks, let alone my sudden promotion to the level of the queen's equal with regards to royal decisions. A rank even the great goblin king cannot attain with all his strength and mental prowess.  

Never before has anyone dared replace the great goblin king's place next to the queen, especially not a zen master, someone who would normally fight with the rebels against goblin rule, but the path towards peace comes with a heavy price. 

Of course the representative wasn't complaining that I was offering advice. No, his complaint is regarding an enemy helping the queen make decisions. But I am not an enemy of the queen. The queen rules over her dominion with equality to all factions, regardless of the struggles between them and regardless of the fact that her husband is a goblin, who remains quietly lounging across the room spectating and of course ready to defend the queen at a fraction of a moment's notice. 

"Comprehension is not a requisite for cooperation," roared the great king at the first time he questioned the dynamic, curtailing the chances of any further inquiries or objections as to my role or position. 

"Okay, then have someone sit at the entryway and sell certificates of spice rights. The peacekeepers don't accept any credits, not even tips. Each person takes the ticket to a keeper and exchanges it for a right of spice or a spice drink or whatever form of spice you decide to offer," I suggest as another alternative to what seems to be becoming lost business for the representatives. 

"That would be in accordance with the agreement we made with that planet," agrees the queen. 

"I don't understand," interrupts the representative again, now in regards to the disrespect he feels on behalf of his lord. 

"Your lord must honor our agreement," states the queen. 

"You don't need to understand!" Roars the great king again. I raise my hand to the king, suggesting he allow the queen and I to handle the servant's complaints, but instead, his brow lowers at my insolence. 

"Spice is addictive," I admit, "nevertheless, it is legal in your planet in all forms," I say to the representative. "Here, it is only allowed in the dark market, so the rules are different. The queen will make a decision and inform your master. I think it best you return home now and let your lord know that the party will continue as scheduled. Do you agree my queen?" I ask. 

"Yes I do, but I've already decided, so you can leave here with the proper message for your lord," she tells the representative, "We will sell spice tickets and serve ticket holders only. No credits will be accepted."

"But your majesty..." Argues the representative before being interrupted. 

"You don't want to violate the peace we have now, do you? You are under goblin rule, peace or no peace."

"I understand," he concludes, bowing his head before exiting the room. 

"Let darkness prevail," faintly slips in the room from the great hall.

22 June 2016

The Distraction 1

Chapter 1

She walks by. I'm so distracted by my objective, I don't even notice her. But her scent is all too familiar, and memories of temptation come flooding back into my mind.

My lip quivers. I pray it isn't her. I was once her prey; though the irony escapes me as it always has.

I want to say something, but I can't; not after what she's done. The pain never subsided. I became emotionally disconnected and unaware of the change in my perception as it happened and crippled my social skills. 

14 June 2016

Kitchen Ch1

I drag myself through the short corridor and into the kitchen. She stays in the bedroom. The sliding door to the balcony on the opposite side of the bed is half open, letting a gentle breeze caress the sheet covering her slender body.

My finger flips the light switch to my left. The light bounces around the room, awakening the cabinets and alerting them of my presence.

The room brightens quickly. My old place back in Queens would have had little creatures scattering for the shadows in the cracks where the wall fell short of meeting the floor and ceiling. Here the only life I see is my own.