Wednesday, 24 August 2016

Story #365 - The end

"Ah...the wind is beating down upon my head, the dew upon my body, and my eyes want to close right away.
The ledge of the London Bridge isn't as scary as I thought it would be, or as cold, and I picked the right time, as the river Thames is at its highest point.
I always thought it would end like this, even if not this bridge, I always pictured myself going down under water. I don't know why, but it felt the most relaxing way, the least painful, and the most serene. I mean, we came up from the water, might as well return to it, right?
I know you are probably wondering why I'm here, writing this story, when I'm about to jump, well, I figured I'd try to do something other than walk when I'm depressed. Having that shit 9 months out of the year, with the other 3 just pretending to feel fine before I relapse isn't what I call living.
I just get bored of everything at some point, and although I look for help at times, it's still pointless.
I'm better off not being. Nobody's gonna miss me.
Typing that made me even sadder.
I feel a cold's about to come soon. I'd rather not catch it.
Well, it's been fun.

Tuesday, 23 August 2016

Story #364 - Stand, maggot

Somewhere in a park, on a sunny day, where four *Ouch* five men. One of them was pure evil, hitting me, the narrator, with his helmet, for not taking him into consideration.
"And jump outta this page and deck ya, boy."
I have no idea how he's talking, but I'll let it slide.
Moving on, the four men are standing straight, wearing tan outfits that are changing colours as I speak. They aren't allowed to have caps, sunglasses, or water bottles. In fact, there are no trees in that particular area for at least 2 square kilometers. Apparently, according to the boss-
"Whoa, whoa, whoa... Lemme say this, you good for nothing twerp. Now, see here, being in a shade shows your weakness. Shows you're a pussy. One who can't do anything without going back to their mommy."
Right. So you read. These guys are here for training. Mental and physical. Whoever cracks will be forced to stay an hour longer. And then do push-ups until they puke themselves to sleep.
Blimey. I'm starting to sound like the Corporal over there.
"Sounds to me like you're improving, boy."
I wish I'd improve your-

Monday, 22 August 2016

Story #363 - The two birds I hate

"In life, like in many other areas, there are stuff you just want to stamp on. These two birds is what I'd like to stamp on.
The first one is the pigeon, or as I'd like to call it, the flirty bird.
It goes around, goo-goo, goo-goo, tilting its head in front, like a fuckin' clockwork cuckoo bird, coming at you, making those crooning noises, basically saying 'Gimme some bread, gimme some sugar, gimme some honey, gimme something, you cheap bastard,' and if you don't, it'll fly away thinking 'Ya didn't wanna give me something, huh? I'll give you something on your shoulder, just in case, goo-goo-goo.'
The second one is the seagull. Now, despite it looking a bit prehistoric with that big beak and those beady eyes, the seagull is guilty of laughing at you. Not in the way the hyena does it, though. That critter laughs at you like it's your mate. 'Aw, you drank too much and now you're on the floor? Idiot. Let's drink some more and get the both of us fucked up.' The seagull, however, is more like 'Aw, you drank too much like the idiot you are, huh? I told you to stop it after the third pint. Now I have to call your girlfriend and tell her what an embarrassment you are. Maybe she'll get sad and I'll have to get together with her. Know what I mean.'
I just want to punch that idiotic bird in its beak every time I hear it laugh like that.

Sunday, 21 August 2016

Story #362 - Pub crawl costume

"What in Sam Hill are you doing?"
"Huh? What? Can't you tell?"
"I didn't know you liked to wear drag."
"This is an Ancient Roman robe-a-like. Me and a few of my mates are going out. And it's that time of the month."
"Just like with the drag, I thought you were a guy. Didn't realize you were a girl, and your period was starting. The things I miss when I'm at work, man..."
"Idiot. Don't you know that there's a monthly bar crawl thing where you dress differently?"
"Don't fancy them, so no."
"Well, it's a great thing."
"You drink wearing stupid outfits. Nothing different from the usual, apart from you looking stupid, not just acting."
"Your fun at parties."
"I am. Now go on your period."

Saturday, 20 August 2016

Story #361 - Get your free item

"Good evening, folks. We've got a special promotion for you this evening, and it will all happen at aisle 20 in just a few moments, so make your way there if you would like a free gift."
'Free, huh? I wonder what's the catch. I'm sure there's something.'
"Alright, folks. In just a few more seconds we will start the procedure, so if you haven't already, make your way to aisle 20 to receive your free gift on our special promotion."
'I've made my way here. Where are you, mate? There are at least twenty of us around. Impressive, considering the store is somewhat dead right now. Ah, there he is, wearing an apron from some weirdly named promotions company. Mid '40s, a bit chubby around the waist, a slither of grey hairs popping on the sides of his hair. Let's see what you can do.'
"Okay, folks. If you could all leave your trolleys on the left side of the aisle, and come over to me, so we can all get started.
Come on, squeeze, so everybody can see. Everybody? Good.
Alright, we are doing this promotion that is strictly in this store, and as a thank you for leaving everything in order to come here, I will give this free gift to everyone present. If you could all spread these around, so that we can do it faster, in a teamwork fashion, and after you've received it, could you please raise it in the air, because it's important for the ending. Alright? Does everyone have it?"
'Oh, grand. A cooking thing. A round slicer that I will never use. Well, there goes five minutes of trying to be sold something. I'm gonna go before he fills my head with other junk.'

Friday, 19 August 2016

Story #360 - It was supposed to be a nice day #final #part

'That daughter of mine is getting on my nerves every time. But I'm sure I do the same to her,' she thought. 'My brother and our mom are driving me off the edge, and I just can't take it anymore. I need a break, a vacation, a something away from my motherly duties. I need to go away.'
Tracy placed the hard part of her palms over her eyes and rubbed them, as if she wanted to put them out of her sockets.
The phone started buzzing again. She smiled. She took it out, and dropped it beside her feet, listening to it shaking on the concrete slab.
'Yeah, that's what I need. That's exactly what I need.'
She stood up, looked around for her child, but couldn't see Maria, then left. Without glancing back.

Thursday, 18 August 2016

Story #359 - It was supposed to be a nice day #part 3

Tracy turned around to see her daughter dangling like a chimp, minus the vine swinging, from a branch not too high up.
"You sure do like your attention, missy."
"But I'm stuck."
"No, you're not. Lower your feet and let go."
"I'm afraid."
"You destroyed that spider web with a jagged rock, but you're afraid of coming down?"
"I'm not in the mood for this, hun."
"Fine..." Maria says, letting herself go, smacking the ground with her behind, shrieking once that impact happened.
"I hope you're not going to cry now."
"Maybe," her voice changed from the mischievous one from earlier.
"Where are you going now?"
"I don't know. Leave me alone."
The mom shook her head as her child went away, scratching at her right buttocks. She let out a sigh.

Wednesday, 17 August 2016

Story #358 - It was supposed to be a nice day #part 2

She let the phone vibrate in her hand once more before pressing the green button.
"Tracy! Where are you?"
"In the park. What's wrong?"
"Your mom just keeled over."
"No. Nothing like that."
"Then don't say keeled over, you fuckin' imbecile. Say she fell or something. Goddammit. I almost turned white." She placed her free hand the side of her face, covering her eye and part of the mouth.
"She's still feeling the effects, you know."
"Why was she up, anyway? Doctor's told us not to let her move from the bed."
"I took my eye off of her."
"Hey, I fell asleep. You know how hard this shit is."
"I do. This is my first day out of the house in a month."
"Oh. I'm not gonna nag you, then. Enjoy your time."
"I will. Let me know if something changes."
"Yeah. Bye."
Tracy put the device back in her pocket.
'Jesus. Can't get a solitary moment out of there.'
"Mommy, I can't get down. Help." Maria's voice came from behind her mother.

Tuesday, 16 August 2016

Story #357 - It was supposed to be a nice day #part 1

Upon approaching the park bench, Maria noticed a spider web between the cracks of the old wood at the bottom. She looked around for something, but shook her head, then grabbed a sharp-edged rock and proceeded to stick it in the webbing. First she was beside the bench, until she realized it would be safer from the top. She jumped on top, sitting on her knees, leaning down, grabbing a wooden part to sustain herself.
"Maria!" came from the same left side. "Stop playing around with rocks. It's dangerous."
"I'm killing a spider, mom. I'm making it safer for others."
"Fine. Do what you will," she said, letting out a sigh.
The mother put her rose-tinted sunglasses on, a baseball cap, and crossed over to the grassy patch of the area.
"I should've brought a blanket," she muttered to herself. "I miss picnics." She sat down, on the grass, with an indirect view of her daughter, who was still troubling the edge of the bench.
Her phone started buzzing. She took it out and checked the name.
"For Pete's sake."

Monday, 15 August 2016

Story #356 - In demand friend

"Yo, Max, we haven't seen each other in a while. What're you doing tomorrow night?"
"Going out of town, man."
"You're always going out of town."
"Can't help it. My job wants me travel-"
"Get a different one."
"I can't find anything that'll pay me so well."
"I hear you, but I wanna see you, you know?"
"Hey, I wanna see you, too. There's nothing I can do about this, though."
"When are you free, then?"
"Tonight. How about tonight?"
"Well, I...think I can work something out, actually."
"Great. We can go get smashed and party like before."
"Hell, yeah. That's what I'm talking about."
"In an hour?"
"Sounds good. Same place?"
"See ya then."

Sunday, 14 August 2016

Story #355 - Junkfood needs

It is interesting how one needs junk food in their life in order to enjoy something.
Whether it be a movie, or a get-together, or a simple night out, one has to ravish their body in order to appease someone.
According to the media, we can't be healthy at nights, only during the day, and mostly when we're alone, otherwise we'll be frowned upon, which is a big no-no.
And this is the kind of bullshit that makes one notice why most people don't live the life they want.
The social stereotype of party hard, work hard, be brainless, is in abundance right now.
After all, you can be famous for sleeping with someone, if you know how to market yourself.

Saturday, 13 August 2016

Story #354 - Running bond

Whenever I run, and I pass by people who seem to meet together to go for a dash, I can't help but feel out of touch.
Sure, it's nice to talk to folks when you're out for a jog, yet my competitive nature comes up and I crank my speed a little.
It's nice to talk. It's nicer to be faster for a proper workout. I get how that can slight others, who simply see running as something fun, light-hearted, and relaxing, except for me. I want to give it my all. I like doing that, even if I end up short.
If only there'd be more like-minded peeps around...

Friday, 12 August 2016

Story #353 - Bar chat

Sitting at this corner table in a bar, at the fabulous hour of 1 p.m., when almost nobody is around, can't help but wonder what the hell is wrong with me.
Why do I have a double whisky on the rocks when I'm not even that sad?
Why am doing in this kind of place at this time of day when I could easily be home? Better yet, I could be out shopping, or in the park, or doing something other than wasting money on alcohol.
I don't need this crap in my life. I don't-
"-I'd like to do to them what they did to me, you know? I have eight scars, I have a hard time finding a job, I have... Well, if you want to go call the police on me saying that I'm going to commit murder, be my guest."
What the fuck is that all about? A not so drunk guy talking to the bartender about his problems? Do they know each other? Don't reckon it.
I may be miserable, but I think that bloke is out of his mind.
"I get home smashed every day, but I'm gonna surprise my mum and be sober. This is my third one. That's as good as I can be."
It's these kinds of people that drive me away from places like these. Actually, they're the ones that can scare customers off.
I feel bad for the bartender.

Thursday, 11 August 2016

Story #352 - The stress of moving

After we've lived in a place for a while, we feel like it's our home, more or less. But then something happens, either job dissatisfaction, or life discomfort, and the decision is made to move away.
Hours upon hours are spent on websites, scouring for a new flat, for a safe area, for something nice.
Simultaneously, on different website, the searches are ongoing for jobs.
Lastly, searches are also on clubs and other fun areas. Because you have to have a place where you spend your neurons and cash on, too.
I know, there's a spot I'm missing, which is the cultural part. I am surprised at how many people don't really care about this part. I guess it's the same ones that don't view it as a way to make a living.
Stress can get bigger than this, but those other factors are best left for a different conversation.

Wednesday, 10 August 2016

Story #351 - Cheat day

"Alright. As your fitness coach, I'm giving you a cheat day today. Because you've been putting in 3-4 hours of workout every day for the past six, you can eat junk food if you want."
"Great, coach. Thanks."
"But make sure you stay away from bread."
"I want a pizza, coach. That's bread."
"Yes. Stay away from it."
"No. I want it."
"If you're gonna eat that, then don't bother coming here tomorrow. Come the day after."
"You'll be bloated and won't be able to do your regular workout."
"Then what kind of junk food do you recommend?"
"Nothing, but if you must, potatoes, or sorbet, or white rice."
"Guess I'll be seeing you in two days, then."
"Get ready to have your ass kicked."

Tuesday, 9 August 2016

Story #350 - Throwing away stuff

"Hey, Sally, now that the old man's dead, what do you want to do with his stuff?"
"How can you talk like that about dad?"
"What? He's dead. It doesn't matter much."
"It matters to me, dammit. It's still real."
"Two months have passed."
"Yeah. Just two months. I need more time to feel like he's gone."
"I see. But anyway, what do you want to do with his things?"
"Do we really have to do something right now?"
"No. We should sort them out, at least. I'm sure he has nice things around here, and maybe we can give some to charity."
"I'm not ready for that, either. You can do it alone."
"Fine... I hope that when I die, people will just throw my shit away."

Monday, 8 August 2016

Story #349 - The paranoid tenant

There are moments in anyone's life when they meet or share a moment with someone, that they realize they might have been changed forever. Such a thing has happened to me.
I hadn't even seen the man, when I heard him in the shower.
Initially, through the muddling of the walls corroborated with the music my laptop was dishing out, I thought someone was dying, or crying, or having one of those happenings were it's perceived to be unnatural in talking to others. At least according to the media.
I can't say it bothered me much knowing that he was at his wits' end, however, once I turned down the song, I heard properly. The man was singing in the shower worse than most when drunk. No melodic line, no nothing. Chalk on board would've been more bearable. Alas, I had to turn the volume up.
Two days later, I heard his room's door getting closed with the keys, and that didn't bother me one bit. I understand, a new place, and the last thing one needs is to lose their belongings to strangers they haven't met. Yet, he went into the toilet. This puzzled me deeply. I did not keep check of the minutes, but it had been between 10 and 15. Then, he unlocked his door and went back in his chamber.
A week has passed, with the same habits. I'm looking forward to the next ones.

Sunday, 7 August 2016

Story #348 - The silent beach

Not every city has a beach. Heck, not every country has one. But when you go to a capital, a popular one that has plenty of sights to see and no other reason to think about something else, you discover that it also has a beach.
Armed with a gleeful smile, the giddiness of a child, as well as the hope that it would not suck, I embarked on the journey to the outskirts; it was boring, yet necessary.
When I reached the sandy shores, I discovered a small, serene slice of heaven.
Nobody was there. And that was fine. I had it all to myself. And that was great.  
The people who help keep the area clean had placed three volleyball nets, made mounds to hide behind, in their attempt to offer something special in such a small place.
Every sand-filled area by the sea has shells, algae covering rocks, or your leg, depending on how long you stay there, and great water, but not every place has that homely feeling of "I feel like I want to spend my years here."
Amsterdam, the city that keeps making you come back. It is, definitely, one of those perfect places around the globe.

Saturday, 6 August 2016

Story #347 - The window girl

It's one of those nights.
The rain started less than five minutes ago, and I already have my glasses soaked.
Walking by the canals in Amsterdam is certainly something different, with narrow pathways, bikes and civilians at the same time, as well as girls in abundance. Men more so, but...
Before I can finish that thought, I stop, take off my glasses to wipe them with my t-shirt, then place them back. In an instant, I my eyes meet that of a window girl's. She's pointing at hers, smiling, somewhat inviting me inside. I smile back before carrying on walking.
Tempted, tempting, a model's body with a high maintenance face, something I will never want, was approachable for one night, and for one night, those dreams went away.
If only she wasn't behind glass, under a red light, wearing silk underwear that would make any guy jump.
Paying for a girl, no matter the look, wasn't something I looked forth. Still isn't. Probably will never be.
Still, bawling my eyes at some of them was gratuitous, and I took it.

Friday, 5 August 2016

Story #346 - The crying kiss

"Darling, I have to go or I'll miss my bus."
"I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you, too, but I have to go."
"Just five more minutes, babe."
"I can only do one. Look at the driver, he's going mad, yelling at everyone to hop on or they'll be left here."
"The asshole. Doesn't he know I won't get to see you for a month?"
"I have to go. Gimme a kiss."

'Good thing she didn't look back after that, or she would've seen my tears flowing. Man, I feel sad. Don't think I'm getting out of bed tomorrow.'

Thursday, 4 August 2016

Story #345 - The Crow and the Rat

Walking around in areas where not many go through, I tend to see different things.
This particular instance had two crows and a rat.
One was plucking away at the rodent, like a chicken does at corn, while the other looked at his brother and gave out several grieving cries.
The pecker went at it two more times, but was probably driven mad by those nags. He took flight into the distance.
The annoyed one started jabbing into the tailed being, then noticed me passing by them.
It stopped as it turned its head around to glance at me. Our eyes met for a brief second, with me looking the other way the next second.
I don't want any of that. I don't want any problems. Keep it.

Wednesday, 3 August 2016

Story #344 - Dutch traffic

Tick, tock, tick, tock, goes the crossing pole after you press the button to make it green.
A sound like an ancient clock, going back and forth into this modern world, before it releases more ants that want to go to the other side.
Went that light switches, and gives them a go, an uzzi-like sound comes forth, spilling that rattattatta into the wilderness of the street.
As civilians rush to get across, the tram waits, patiently, grinding the engine.
When it comes time, a gong strikes, letting everyone know that the big boy colored in white and blue is starting its stroll.
Cars? Nobody cares. Their revving is enough.

Tuesday, 2 August 2016

Story #343 - Dutch bicycles

"I'm sorry," she says. "What more do you want me to do?"
To her side, on the ground, an old man. He was trying to get up after being toppled over by this foreign girl who didn't know the Dutch rules of biking. Look everywhere.
She caused the guy's accident, and there he was, in probably his first ever collapse, all due to a ditzy blonde with glasses, and an American accent.
He was spewing something in his nature tongue, his face turned from pasty white to flushed red, as the insults kept coming in his native tongue.
The front wheel was off a bit, enough to make the steering a chore.
She went inside the bus that had arriving. He carried on somehow.

Monday, 1 August 2016

Story #342 - Let's grab a vegan pizza

It's pizza time. It gets to me at times, too. More so when I'm walking around and all I see are pizza places.
Haven't had one in a while.
Let's see what they-
"Hello, sir."
"Hi. I've been looking at your menu and I see you don't have anything vegan."
"We have bread..."
I gave him such a big smile that he stopped, ogled his eyes at me, then changed the menu page.
"We also have some focaccia and-"
"Not a big fan of that, but thanks."
At least he didn't say grass. People are advancing.

Sunday, 31 July 2016

Story #341 - The wrong bed

"Hey, man, that's my bed, you know?"
"I said I was sleeping there."
"There's no tag on it, mate. I saw it open and went for it."
"Yeah, like this one. Shows how long you're going to stay here, and that it's your bed."
"Don't worry, I'll move."
"No, no. You can stay there. It sounds reasonable. Other beds have tags, too."

Saturday, 30 July 2016

Story #340 - The World (poem)

Rolls Royce's and Benzes
Parked outside, looking
Prim and proper.
Also outside, people
Sleeping on the ground,
Covered in a musky, old duvet,
Using rocks as pillows,
Unable to get a break.

The ninety percent of the population
Goes about its day,
Doing the same things
Over and over and over,
Without progress,
Without change,
Without regret.

Some don't want anything
Out of life, apart from
A child, or a job,
And after they achieve that,
They can die,
Vanishing from the planet
As fast as they inhabited it.

Friday, 29 July 2016

Story #339 - Not everything has a catch

"Hi, would you like to win a free prize?"
Once you hear that, most people assume there's a catch. That you have to pay for something, or give out your data and get spammed by advert mail while you receive a cheap thing for free.
In most cases, people are right. Yes, right. But not every time.
What happened to that freebie where no questions were asked?
Sampling? People love knowing they won't be asked anything, which is why they go in droves for something that isn't worth it, more often than not.
The fact that most persons are coy about such a small thing says plenty of our society.

Thursday, 28 July 2016

Story #338 - How you say "I love you" today

There are more ways to say "I love you" today than in any other time period, although the future might change that.
And we do that by sending a text on the phone, sending an email, sending a gif, sending a tweet, sending a private message through that, sending something on Facebook, or it's private messaging system.
We can do a Vine, a drawing, a Youtube video, a timelapse gif, something with cats, send a song. Make a heart shape with books and snap that, but not many have books, so they use food items instead. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
While this is all fun, is it really as good as the real thing, the real words said out loud on a cozy morning, when you're in bed, caressing their hair, followed by their cheek, whispering it softly?

Wednesday, 27 July 2016

Story #337 - Pokemon go-ing

"Bye, mom. Be back later."
"Obviously. Where are you going?"
"To catch them all."
"Catch them all? I didn't know you were a playboy, darling."
"What? Girls? Me? Ha. I wish. I'm too nerdy for them."
"I'm sure there's a girl out there somewhere."
"Maybe, but not right now."
"You still haven't told me what you're catching."
"Haven't you heard of Pokemon Go?"
"That? Well, you're at that age, I suppose."
"What age is that?"
"The teenager years where you don't know yourself yet, and you follow around shiny stuff."
"Okay. Bye."
"Make sure you don't get lost."

Tuesday, 26 July 2016

Story #336 - Homeless man

Going around streets, I often see homeless people. And it's prevalent at nighttime, when people are drunk, especially girls, are talking to them.
One night, being bored, I decided to go looking for such a happening. There it was, near a nightclub. Well, not exactly near. The place was in the middle of the street, the guy sitting at the corner. About 20 meters away. Enough for him not to get kicked off.
It was well after 1 a.m., and peeps were coming out, some barely standing. Two girls, who looked likely to throw up the minute they sat down, approached the guy.
I missed the start of their conversation, but I managed to hear parts.
"Whyyyyy...don't youuuuu...find a jooooob?" *hiccup*
"Nobody would hire me at my age. I've tried. I'm content with myself at this point. There's nothing I can do."
"Try hardeeeer. What if someeee...oneeee would giveeee you! a jobbbb?"
"That'd be great. But I still don't have where to sleep and all this stuff. It would be hard."
She looks at him and gives him a hug, then stumble-walks away.
The guy looks as sad as before, glancing into the distance.

Monday, 25 July 2016

Story #335 - Shining star

"I've been looking at the stars, and I thought about being a star myself. Not a regular one, but a shining star. The kind that travels far, wide, and explodes fast.
I think that's the best dream anyone can have, although that might be the drunkenness talking.
What do you say, Matt?
... Matt? ... You were by the bench a minute ago. Where'd you go?
Doesn't matter. Oh, to be a shining star. That would be cool.
Matt? Where'd you pop in from, mister? What do you want?"
"Can't a guy watch the night sky peacefully?"
"You can. I hope you don't mind me talking a lot about stars."
"Be my guest."
"Say, have you seen Matt anywhere?"

Sunday, 24 July 2016

Story #334 - Reaching the top

Once upon a time lived a person who never knew how it was to stand tall.
He walked in the shadows of others, he made them take priority over his life, and he became lost.
So much so that when he was told to go climb a hill, he had no idea what it was.
Days passed by, and there was, finally, in front of the big thing.
Looking around, he found steps that made a path.
Going on it, he became relaxed. The angst went away, like a snap of the fingers.
When he reached a top, not the big one, he turned around and looked at the majestic view. Houses were now little red fireflies. People were not even ant-sized. He could see into the distance far and wide. For the first time in his life, the horse glasses came off.
A clang of the mouth brought a smile as a tear trickled down his bushy cheek. He tilted his head backwards, facing the sky, pressed his palms beside his chin, and let out a howl even dogs or wolves would be proud of.
"This is the life. This is reality. This is amazing."

Saturday, 23 July 2016

Story #333 - How to not pick up a girl

Have you ever wondered if the candy trick works on picking up girls? I have. And I've tried it out once. The result was mesmerizing. It comes in handy if you're a bellend who doesn't know what to say, so I approached her and had the following conversation.
"I wanted to tell you something."
"That your eyes are as sweet as the candy I have in my pocket."
"I don't know what you're selling, but I'm not buying."
"Just complimenting you."
"That was the weirdest compliment I've had in my life."
"Okay. Would you like some candy to brighten your mood?"
"I'm trying to meet you half-way. Just like your dad did to your mom. He offered her candy."
And then she slapped me. I sure know how to bring the weirdness in people.

Friday, 22 July 2016

Story #332 - How the meeting happened

I'm here, in Rachel's parents' house, and both of them look like they're about to jump with weird, nonsensical, parenty type questions; Rachel's relaxed.
"So, how did you two meet? She hasn't told us. Our daughter doesn't tell us much about her life."
"Oh, it was quite the tale. I was walking by the beach one day, for some fresh air, when I see this girl in a bikini, ready to jump in the water, to go for a swim probably. I look at her and shout 'Wait, don't jump just yet. It's not worth it. You haven't met me.' She turns around, looks at me, and says 'Bye,' waving."
Her parents are staring at me, while she's laughing. Of course, I'm smiling. 
"Uh-huh. And after that?"
"I jumped in after her and attacked her with a shark fin. It was so funny seeing her freak out, you wouldn't believe."
At this point I'm laughing, too. We're slightly butting heads in laughter.
"I don't know if that was real or not, but you two have a weird sense of humor," her dad says. 
They sat up and took off, probably to the kitchen, leaving us alone to knock ourselves out.

Thursday, 21 July 2016

Story #331 - Odd casting audition

"Okay. I want you to blow."
"Use this bottle that I'm giving you and blow according to the music."
"Oh, okay."
"But before that, say into the camera your name and what you're here for."
"Hi, I'm Jean Francis and I'm here to blow this bottle. For a commercial. Oh, on this bottle, sorry... What? Why are you laughing? I can't concentrate with you laughing. It's hard to make music like this."
"You shouldn't have stopped, regardless of my laughter or not. Let's try that again. From the top."

Wednesday, 20 July 2016

Story #330 - The unusual comedian

Another night, another town, another average reaction from the crowd. I'm wondering if this is still worth it.
I don't have many gags, and I often find myself jibber-jabering away, without a solution to what I'm saying, but then there's this guy.
He's wearing glasses on stage, those aviator types, not seeing ones, and he kinda stumps himself out when he says a joke. You could hear his breathing when he doesn't say anything. I can see his hand twitching because it doesn't know what to do, while the other one hangs on for dear life grasping the mic stand. Oh, yeah, and he doesn't doesn't take the mic out. I'm sure it's fear of being completely in the audience's eye.
I haven't had many conversations with him, but now I'm curious as to why he's like this. He's alone at the bar, looking into the distance; no people around as it's past closing hours.
"Hey, mate," I say when I approach him.
"Hi. Jack."
"I've never asked you this before, so could you tell me what keeps you going?"
"Well, I know you don't get that many laughs, and it makes you distressed on stage. I was wondering what keeps you going. Why not pack it in and stop?"
"I honestly love this fuckin' thing. Sure, I'm distressed, and sometimes I forget what I want to say, but I enjoy the shit out of this. I feel like I'm alive. That's why people do various things in arts or in sports. They feel alive. I may suck at this now, but so did a bunch of other comedians. Give me more time and I'll kick ass. You're doing pretty well for yourself. I like what you do. Keep on doing it."
All I could do was smile.

Tuesday, 19 July 2016

Story #329 - Girl with the missing shoe

It's nighttime. Several minutes past time. My eyes are about to close. They've been open for 36 hours without so much as a wink. I don't know how I managed, but I did, and when I get home, I reckon I won't be able to take off my clothes. Maybe I won't make it to the bed, either.
Walking down the road, I reach the bus stop and see one of the buses stopped, with a "Not in Service" thing on it.
'That's peculiar,' I think as this is an inter-cities one; they rarely have something like that on.
As I walk on by, passing the transport vehicle, I notice the driver on the phone, waiting for the other person to answer, and across from him, in the open door, a girl, smoking with her shivering hand.
'It's not cold.' Then I look down. One of her shoes is missing. Her body shakes for a cool five seconds before going back to normal. Her olive skin has a shade of white to it. Sweat has covered her face and belly.
"It's too hot," she says as she puffs the last whiff of tobacco and throws it on the cold ground.
I'd like to ask her what's the matter, but I know she won't answer. Her brain's too frazzled by what she suffered.
I go past to wait for my bus.

Monday, 18 July 2016

Story #328 - Getting choked out

"Yo, Louie, you're all smiles. Whaddup?"
"Man, I can't make this stuff up. I'm telling you I saw the greatest thing ever."
"You haven't told me anythin'."
"So, you know how you keep telling me this area is strange and dangerous, now I know what you mean."
"Right, right..."
"On my way over, I passed by this bar or whatever, and near the doorway were two bouncers trying to manhandle a big guy. He was huge, you know, maybe 1.90 and about 140 kgs. One of those well built peeps that are a burden to cross paths with."
"And then?"
"They somehow got him out the door, onto the street, and one dude, short, but not scrawny, had him in the choke hold, you know, the one from behind, against your neck, and plying in the pressure. The guy's face turned blue-purple. That was awesome."
"What then?"
"I turned away for a sec, cause I saw this girl, and he was laid out on the ground. Then everything returned to normal."
"He die?"
"Nah. He was moving a little bit afterwards."
"But that girl, man, *whistles*, she was a hottie."

Sunday, 17 July 2016

Story #327 - The funeral guy #final #part

Then she gave me the ticket.

"Dear Ma'am,
I am unfamiliar with your son, yourself, or any other member of your family or friends.
I am a passerby who lied to get inside because I want to see how people cope with the loss of their loved one. It sounds strange, I know, but I don't have anybody to mourn after. That should not sadden you, although I suppose it might.
However, when I stepped into this funeral place, I felt a sense of belonging.
We will probably never see each other again, and regardless of that, I would like to thank you for making me feel like I had someone to care for for the first time in my life.
You must miss your son, George, deeply, to have been able to go at such great lengths.
Thank you for your hospitality."

Saturday, 16 July 2016

Story #326 - The funeral guy #part 8

Three days have passed since that whole hubbub, and we've arrived at the funeral. 
After talking with mom, she said she'd rather have somewhere nice, than something with frills. Not because she didn't care about George, but she preferred a homely avenue. I picked a smaller venue, knowing it'd be enough for those coming. 
Also, we cremated him. Mom was iffy on the subject, yet I wanted my brother to be with her. 
That was held at 10. It lasted for twenty minutes. After that, we moved into the area where people could give their wishes to the bereaved aka my least favourite part, and the reason why I've never been to a funeral before. 
When people entered and started saying "I'm sorry," or "condolences," it made me sad.
However, there was this one guy who hugged and gave mom a note, without saying a word. She started crying when she opened it.

Friday, 15 July 2016

Story #325 - The funeral guy #part 7

"Mom, what's wrong?"
"I saw a cockroach," she said as I peeked inside the place.
"We both know you smash them faster than Dad used to drink a bottle of beer."
"Nothing. A simple slip."
"We have a funeral to take care of. I know you're good with that stuff. I'll handle the people calling, you do the tidbits."
"Are you hungry? I have some mashed potatoes in the fridge, ice cream in the freezer, and fruit in the living room."
"What? What do you want already? Do you want me to smack you? You're starting to sound like when you were a child. I didn't smack you then, but there's still time."
"Fine. I'm not saying anything anymore."
"Good. Now off you go."

Thursday, 14 July 2016

Story #324 - The funeral guy #part 6

When we arrived at her home, or my former home, she stopped in front of the door, looked away from it, and turned towards me.
"Whatever you see inside, I don't want to hear it. If you say something, I'll smack you."
I raised my hands to my shoulders as my irises widened.
She carried on to unlock the door.
We walked in in silence. I stepped softly, wanting to not bother her, while she went through the hallway with heavy steps.
'She's clearly upset.'
I throw my jacket on the couch, and am on my way to the toilet when I hear a glass break. My gut instinct tells me not to go there. But I do.

Wednesday, 13 July 2016

Story #323 - The funeral guy #part 5

We took her car on the way back. Neither of us said anything the whole drive, although she hummed a funky diddle that brought a smile on my sorrowful face. There were times when I tapped on the window to her beat, and it felt like we were making a song.
For a few seconds, I had the feeling of nostalgia, when us three were riding in her former wagon car, and we'd be merry. So much so, the police pulled us over several thinking we were on something. Well, mom more than us two.
Life was easier back then. Or it seemed. Being a child is nicer.

Tuesday, 12 July 2016

Story #322 - The funeral guy #part 4

I walk lightly to her, trying to asses the situation before I speak my mind.
"Come on," she says, catching me off guard. "Let's go."
"Home, to make funeral arrangements."
Whaaat? "Can't we do them here?"
"No. I don't like your place. Too modern for my taste. You can turn off the light if you clap. You have a dishwasher. The only non-electric or fancy item in here is your doors."
"Aren't you a little bit sad about George?"
"I am, but I don't want to think about that right now. Pack your things and let's go."
Can I say no? Ughh. "Okay. Five minutes."
I know she'll sob later, and when that happens, I hope I'm not there. I don't know what to do when others do that.

Monday, 11 July 2016

Story #321 - The funeral guy #part 3

"Where is that damn hoover?" She talked to herself. She did that a lot when I was living with her. Can't say it bothered me. I got a kick out of it once in a while. The things she'd say without realizing, and then telling me and my brother to "not say those words when other people are around" made it priceless.
Ah, she found the hoover. The things it's suctioning sound like sand. When did I get that on my floor?
Well, whatever. I still don't know what I'm going to tell her when I get out. Not like it'd matter. I'm sure that, regardless of plan, it'll fall on the wayside because of mom. You have to be good at improvising at life to deal with her. The things you think about when you're in a bathroom. This's some deep shit that I never thought about. C- Oh, she stopped. Is she going to make food now? I can't handle this. I'm coming out.
And there she is, on the couch, hands crossed, glaring towards me. I smile.

Sunday, 10 July 2016

Story #320 - The funeral guy #part 2

I wanted to tell mom to bugger off, but I couldn't. It pissed me off, too. Why would she be at my apartment when she's the one that got along with him more than I? He was her favourite, too. Dammit!
'To hell with that woman. I'm not opening.'
As I'm shaking my head, I hear the door knob. 'Forgot I gave her a key. Aw, man. I don't wanna see her at all right now.' I locked myself in the bathroom.
Sitting there, by the shower door, I heard her footsteps screeching in my pad; one step every two seconds, courtesy of a bad hip and bad knees.
"Michael," She said with a warm voice. "Michael."
I won't say anything.
"Don't be like that. Come out. The lights are on. I'm suffering too, you know?"
Stay home and suffer, then.
"Your house is a mess. Whenever you come out, you'll have a shiny place."
Oh, boy.

Saturday, 9 July 2016

Story #319 - The funeral guy #part 1

My brother died four years ago. I didn't get along with him, but I'd be an idiot to say that I didn't care for the man. He's family, regardless of personal quarrel.
A car accident was the least likely death I pictured for him, with the opposite being he'd grow old, with several children and a dozen grandchildren. As luck would have it, he wound up crashing through the window shield at 25 years.
When mom called me, I hung-up. It wasn't forceful. I simply dropped the phone and blacked out. I think I woke up in the bathroom at some point. My face felt softer than a cat's belly, but looked uglier than a girl's who got dumped before a prom.
By the time I cleaned myself up, my doorbell rang. It was mom. Only she could ring it like that. One long, one short, one long, one short, followed by door knocks. Like a crazy person. Come to think of it, I did that once to a friend of mine, and when they opened the door, they had a baseball bat in their hands. Laughed for half an hour.

Friday, 8 July 2016

Story #318 - The French Girl

Sometimes you want a cliché in life. Or a cheesefest, or something really lame, appalling, that's not mundane in reality, but more in certain movies.
That's how I wanted to see a French girl wearing only a mime shirt, white face paint, one of those chic, scrawny moustaches, having a beret on her head, black, of course, and eating from a baguette while smelling a rose. I know, I'm not dreaming much. And I have a low standard. Why not two girls like that? I don't know. One's enough. Zero? Not so much. 
I expect to see stuff at times. Weird, inexplicable. This wasn't one of them. 
I searched far and wide, in a cave, on the Eiffel Tower, under a bar, below the stage. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 
Whenever I'll go to France, I'll have the memory of searching for the unfindable, cliché ridden, French girl. Sometimes, you want to reach for the unicorn without it being in a dream. Sure, you'll fail and get sad, but hey, nobody said everything is attainable. 

Thursday, 7 July 2016

Story #317 - Accident on the road

It's been a long day. Walking over 20 km's to sight-see has depleted me, and right now, I want to be in my bed and sleep. But I can't. I have my bus trip back. Hopefully, it'll be a quiet one so I can take some zeez.

Waiting here, I see a lot of other tired people. Everybody wants to get home, huh? After a ten hour ride, we can do that.

Awesome. Not that many people inside, which means I can have two chairs to myself. I can sleep as decently as one can inside a bus.

So far, I've read a lot, and that's about it. My eyes closed for five seconds...and... I'm tired now.

*hooooooooonk* Whoaaa! Nearly smashed my head in the seats here. What the hell is up with this? Why's the bus stopped? I need to see what's going on. The driver's outside, arguing with people. What the? Five guys came out of nowhere and dashed off. So did the ones our steering wheel man was heated with. Oh, wow. Even more. Fifteen people, sitting behind a highway barrier. Have they no better things to do with their lives?
Now I see. They placed a log on the road. Trying to rob people. Dammit. They need to be punched. Why must some be like this. It drives me off the wall. I don't think I'll be able to sleep any longer...

Wednesday, 6 July 2016

Story #316 - The springy tyke

Late evening. People's faces showcase their droopy eyes and clenched jaws as their heads are lowered.
Among them is a kid. Fully clothed, less than a year old, with a joyful smile, he's been let loose from his carriage and is running rampant. More precisely, he's trying to walk.
The young days when an accomplishment is this meager, but he doesn't know about life's hardships yet.
He's taking two-three steps at a time, then flopping. He doesn't give up, he doesn't cry, he doesn't smack the concrete pavement. He goes up with the same smirk, knowing he'll walk for longer and longer, and there's nothing anyone can tell him differently.
A shame no one enjoys his excitement.

Tuesday, 5 July 2016

Story #315 - Where's my phone? final part

I didn't know what to believe at this point, but figured that opening the window wouldn't be a bad idea.
And when I did, tears streamed down my cheeks and chin.
The people outside were all dead. A pile of carcasses, some bloodier than others. Guts spilled out on the concrete ground, which barely had any of that grey-blue colour it has when being set.
The sky was bright, the clouds were missing, and the giant yellow star brought the temperature high enough. The smell, again, was giving me a hard time handling things.
Being on the first floor of this building, I wondered if I could die by jumping out, but that's way too big of a stretch upon looking down.
Still, judging by how weak and fatigued I am, I will die in a day, at most.
I'll take the plunge.
"I'm sorry, world. I couldn't find out the problem. Bye."

"Doctor, his vitals have gone."
"What time is it?"
"It's unfortunate as he had been fighting the disease for such a long time. I hope he found solitude within."

Monday, 4 July 2016

Story #314 - Where's my phone? part 14

After that weird, but plausible, story idea, I went to bed.
When I woke up, the whole room was lit from the sun's beams, and there was no one else inside.
'Must've went to find food.'
I muster a semblance of strength, not much as my stomach growls once more, upset at the lack of nourishment it had received recently.
When I am on my feet, I see the empty plate that I ate from last night.
Redness is etched into it, with pieces of meaty bones and cartilages left uneaten, untouched, unneeded.
'You mean to tell me I wasn't eating grapes and bread, but human innards?
I would've had an upset stomach, yet it didn't. Nothing was inside to come out.
'Was that guy a mirage, too?'

Sunday, 3 July 2016

Story #313 - Where's my phone? part 13

"I can't give you water. Couldn't find any."
I wanted to give him an answer, but instead of mumbling, I nodded and gave him my thumbs up.
'I haven't really met anyone in here. The disadvantage of the freelance life.'
"After you eat, you can take a nap, or you can leave, if you feel brave enough. I wouldn't recommend it. The situation's ridiculous now. People are desperate. They're killing and eating each other. We should lay low until we find the reason."
I had finally finished chewing the itsy bitsy bits clenched between my teeth.
"What do you think happened? Aliens?"
"No. Alternate universe. Or someone is in the past, trying to wipe us all."
"Why would they do that?"
"Why did all the dictators did what they wanted?"
"That too, but to rule. They only wanted their things, their nations, their race. If we are to go back to a world without technology, we will be in deep shit."

Saturday, 2 July 2016

Story #312 - Where's my phone? Part 12

'Where am I?' I think as I wake up. My head hurts in a somebody hit it way.
"You look pale. Eat something." A voice comes from the dark.
I look around and see bread and grapes on  a plate, under a light. I jump at it like a leopard on a deer, savagely tearing the gluten item into pieces, then chucking it, along with the green nibbles, into my mouth.
My jaw scrunches hard to get going, a cog lacking oil, moving for a few seconds before rusting. That's how I was left with those chewable bits between my teeth.
"Jesus. You're behaving like those people outside. What's wrong with you? Eat slower."
I wish I could've told him how hungry I was, instead of mumbling something from the Neolithic era. Crustaceans would get me better.
"At least you're safe, idiot."
Huh? Does he know me?

Friday, 1 July 2016

Story #311 - Where's my phone? part 11

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. 'There goes my ten year tradition of not throwing up. Damn.'
I steadily stand up, supporting myself through a lamppost.
My head is shaking and I feel pale. I feel like I'm about to faint. I feel my eyes going dizzy, everything narrowing, turning into a fuzzy black image.
So I close them as I lower myself again.
'I need to move back home, but I'm too weak to do anything right now. At such a time. Curses.'
Instinctively, my right hand goes over my eyelids, occasionally on the bridge of the nose, switching between the two ever so gently.
I breathe in, twice, hard, as I try to make myself go up, inch by inch.
Halfway through a gust of wind comes straight at me, bringing various smells along, and it knocks me down and out.

Thursday, 30 June 2016

Story #310 - Where's my phone? part 10

I didn't even know what to think when he said that. I felt my hands trembling and my eyes grow, filling all the whiteness with chestnut brown.
"So, mate?" James spoke as he stood up with blood covering his bearded mouth. 'I'm gonna be sick if he comes closer.'
"I don't have a problem with that, but you should be aware of the stench. If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't have been here."
"The only way to make it go away is to eat it." My stomach growls. "How's about you join us?"
Yeah, it growled for a different reason. "I don't think I'm ready for this. Not right now. I will come back, though. I need some fresh air."
"Listen, mate," one of the other guys said. "If you blab about it-"
"I know, I know. I don't want to be like the one on the ground, don't worry."
I turned around and walked back in the shop, then out of the shop. The zombies were still wandering aimlessly, touching shoulders and elbows with one another. I was hit, too. I was bounced back and forth, side to side, like a billiards ball on the edge. And I had had enough.
I managed to get out and the ball fell in the hole.

Wednesday, 29 June 2016

Story #309 - Where's my phone? part 9

"You fuckin' cannibals," is something I never thought I'd say, not even as a joke or to take the mick. "You're eating him up. What's wrong with you?"
In the back of the store, outside, hidden behind a concrete wall with no way to get out other than to jump out.
Doesn't anyone smell this stuff? The half-empty carcass with guts and intestines spilling out? Blood's flowing from everywhere, including their hands and mouths.
These guys, these three guys, armed with two kitchen knives that they probably used to use to carve and clean fish, are gutting up that poor man like they're in the jungle.
"You want to be next, mate? Huh? There's no food in this place. Whatever happened took away everything. We waited an hour for the delivery guy to arrive. We obviously couldn't call him. We had nothing, and we were starving."
"And this bastard? He started swearing at us to bring him the fish. First time I've laid eyes on him and he's this violent. Fuck's sake. So I tells him come in the back with me, you know, because we keep stuff in here, but he attacked me half-way through. James here kicked him in the face and knocked him out. Turns out it killed him. We've been wondering what to do with the body, and since we were pretty hungry, we..."
"Look, mate," says the first guy. "I know it's wrong, but we couldn't do anything about it. What, did you want us to tell the coppers about it? Screw that. We'd be in jail with a lot of guys, and everybody's killin' everybody right now. I don't want none of that."
"There's this one thing, though," James said. The sturdiest of them all. He looks like he could break through the wall. "We told you all this, and you can either keep yer mouth shut, or you can die right now. What'll it be, eh?"

Tuesday, 28 June 2016

Story #308 - Where's my phone? part 8

Here I was, making my way through the vastness of the people, following an invisible, but distinct trail of foul smell.
I elbowed my way past a small shop called "Fishmongers", and managed to get in unscathed. The lights were out, yet there was a glimmer from the back, hidden behind the closed door.
'I blend in well with the darkness,' I thought, praising my colours as I ninja-ed myself through the unopened metal door.
The stench grew profusely with each step.
'This is unbearable. Can you pass out from such an odor? I hope not.'
I had to clasp my nostrils shut with my fingers and breathe through my mouth, and even that made it unbearable.
But I managed to make it out. And when I saw the light, I wish I hadn't.

Monday, 27 June 2016

Story #307 - Where's my phone? part 7

'Dressed in black, only eyes popping out, I'm sure I won't attract attention. Right? Then again, I've told this myself before and I haven't. Am I an attention-seeking whore? I'll have to think about it later.'
Somehow, I'm the only person inside that smells the stench, or is bothered by it. The shops that once were brimming with people, with mouthy salesmen, coquettish girls, and food as the eye could see, are now empty.
This is not good.
Yet the riot hasn't started. The buzzing disbanded group of zombies aren't doing anything about it. Aren't they hungry? I am famished. I could eat a couple of bowls of anything appealing. Is this how-
"There's a fight broken out outside."
It starts.
And yet, where's that stench coming from?
I'm getting to the bottom of that before I end up in the scuttle.

Sunday, 26 June 2016

Story #306 - Where's my phone? part 6

I'm staring at this big pavilion where people roam in and out of.
'It's working, isn't it?' I mutter to myself with a finger on my chin. 'I bloody well hope so.'
Advancing, I look at peoples faces. I wish I didn't. I wish I had headphones and music, too. There's only so much swearing one can take before they would squirm to a cubbyhole for solitude.
I'm not easily swayed by bad language, but when I hear "fuck" and other variations every four words, I want some solace. I wasn't born in the docks or in the stands.
Still, I force myself to carry on.
The doors are wide open, held by rocks. Once in a while, some idiot trips on one. They don't look distressed, but simply careless. I'm surprised they don't want to strike it or yell and blame the bloodless thing.
Regardless, I go through these doors and a stench comes at me full throttle, making me tuck my nose under my black t-shirt.

Saturday, 25 June 2016

Story #305 - Where's my phone? part 5

When that guy, who I assume is the Mayor, said that we can travel, almost everybody raised their hands or created murmur.
"Now, now, I know you all want to get out and see what is happening in the country right now, but we don't have that many vehicles. We need strong, young, men that can function without much sleep. We need vigorous people, and most of you are. Therefore, I will pick and choose."
Great. That means I'm out of it. The guy's far away, he doesn't see me, and not like I'm bulky or anything, either. I'm going home.
The commotion is still going on, and I think he chose a few guys since the cheers have started shuffling.
What to do now? I need food. Any shops open?
...nope. Not even pubs. Actually, they're not here anymore. Are we going to starve to death? Crap.
I never considered the dearth of this thing. Cannibalism? I hope not. I'd better check out the markets.

Friday, 24 June 2016

Story #304 - Where's my phone? part 4

I carried on, contemplating the facts of technology, along with a dozens and dozens of quiet zombies.
As we neared town hall, we noticed quite the big crowd.
"Could I have your attention, please?"
I heard it from afar, from a megaphone probably, yet I couldn't see the source.
"Alright, people. Please, calm down, so we can figure out the problems."
Buzzing and pushing were a constant. I don't understand people like that. Why must you be so restless instead of staying calm and hearing what the person has to say? Nothing good ever came from continuous stress, you pillocks.
"Can I talk now?" I still don't see him. "Thank you. Now, as you've probably noticed, all our technological devices, as well as our electricity and transport has disappeared. I don't know why it happened as we cannot communicate with other places to find out. However, our printing press can function through manual labor, whereas our shops can no longer function without power." Oh, dear. I sense a riot ensuing. "What? ... Oh, it appears that we have our old automobiles and phones still present. Therefore we can travel to find out what has happened."

Thursday, 23 June 2016

Story #303 - Where's my phone? part 3

After leaving that geezer behind, I walked. Weird saying that. I walked. I always take the bus or some other form of transport, yet now I see myself going on my two feet for longer than 500 metres. Feels like a chore that I don't necessarily want to take, yet I have to.
Come to think of it, I didn't check to see if I still had a fridge in the house. Have the shops evaporated, too?

A lot of people are taking my direction it seems. Nobody looks pleased.
However, I find it strange that most of them are quite calm. Finding your technological stuff missing one morning and not knowing why must come as a shock to everybody. I'm pretty sure some cowered away in their blankets. Those that don't care as much are laughing at us. They ought to be. Humanity has started to walk hunchbacked. Who knew involution would take this route?
But enough about philosophy. Come to think of it, I used to like it before I plugged headphones whenever I left the house.
Why did I change so much?

Wednesday, 22 June 2016

Story #302 - Where's my phone? part 2

"There, that's better," I said to the mirror as I looked ready to go out and check the happenings.

Clothed with my regular black, no logo, t-shirt, assorted with the equally black, but skinny, trousers, going alongside a pair black shoes, I looked like I was going to a funeral. I'm sure someone will point out at me and say weird stuff. Hmm... If I'm thinking about that, it means I know something'll go down in the town. Should I change clothes? Nah! I'll be fine.

Stepped out my front door and saw people arguing. Stepped out my porch and clouds started gathering. Stepped out into the street and heard derogatory terms shouted in my direction. 'Blimey,' I thought. 'What did I do?'
I turned around and there was this old man of about 55-60, with hair barely standing between his ears and skull, wearing those round-shaped hippy-like glasses from decades ago, dressed in a suit.
"Oy, you fuckin' asshole."
I turned around to see if it was at me or not.
"Yeah. You!"
"Me, what? Why am I an asshole?"
"You stole my car."
I froze as my eyelids went to the sky and my forehead looked like sand dunes.
"Haha. Are you crazy? Look around you. Everybody lost their car. There are cables or telephone poles. Shit. I don't have my cell or my laptop in the home, but no, I stole your car, even though I just woke up."
"I don't have time for this, mate. I wanna see what's going on, and my guess is that the Mayor might know something."
Of course, he might not know anything, yet I bet that a lot of people are there. Worth a try.

Tuesday, 21 June 2016

Story #301 - Where's my phone? part 1

Woke up in the morning and saw the phone wasn't there. "Weird" I thought.
I snooped around through the sheets and I still couldn't find it.
Looked under the bed, searched under the mattress, as well as on its sides, without any luck.
I wanted to grab my watch to at least check the time, yet that was missing as well.
Laptop? Gone. Tablet? Vanished.
"What the heck is going on?" I stare around, then I rub my eyes, but nope. As I scratch my head, I figure I might as well wash my face and think about it clearly.
Although there's light from outside, I flicked the switch to see if it worked. It did not.
"Surely I'm not the only without technology around, right?"
As I think that, I hear noise from the streets. I open my window and peak through it. Turns out, all the cars have vanished, too. Not only that, but the poles along with the cables as well.
"I wonder what people are making out of this? Where could I get information about this? Are we going back to the stone age?"
I had weird thoughts, however, I needed to wash my face first.

Monday, 20 June 2016

Story #300 - The serenity of travel

Ah, travelling... That place where you spend time in a not so comfortable entrapment filled with strangers, who usually, out of respect for others, tend to be calm and quiet. In other words, considerate and proper.

As it happened, my headphones went kaput and I was left tending to the silence of the road, the occasional bump in the road, and the flush of the loo.
Things were okay, until I heard this fly-like murmur from the back. I kept turning my head, trying to find the problem, always missing it. Then, I pretended to go to the loo with hopes. They were fulfilled.

Two girls occupied four chairs while others sat like sardines. They were friends,  and were talking quite loudly to one another, making everybody hear their conversation, unless they had working ear mufflers.
I wanted to go over and tell them to shut up, but they stopped buzzing.
When it happened, the serenity returned. I enjoyed the rest of my trip afterwards.

Sunday, 19 June 2016

Story #299 - So much bread

Just imagine being in a room locked up with the freshest and nicest bread the world has to offer, and you can't indulge yourself too much or your trousers won't fit you any longer.
But is it really worthwhile to consider your waist when you have gooey goodness slithering in front of your irises, growing the hair follicles on your body, and making your jaw drop with spit like you've seen the tastiest thing ever?
Pretzels, croissants, bagels, donuts, pizza...oh, that's not exactly a bread. Doesn't matter. Like they have bread filled with cheese, olives, jalapenos, and who knows what else, so is pizza a bread. It's like an open calzone, without closure.
Breads make the world go around, at least in the western part of Earth, and wheat is the base for 95% of them, with the five percent coming from the last five or so years, after they, the powers that be, decided to give something to the gluten intolerant people, too. How kind.

Saturday, 18 June 2016

Story #298 - Cracked my trousers

"What happened?"
"I bent with these heavy stacks, and my trousers cracked open just there."
"Oh...right. So what you gonna do now?"
"I don't know. Can you see it?"
"Umm, no, not really,, it's fine. Maybe if you squat... Yeah, you can see a bit there, but that's it. Not much. You'll be fine."
"Jesus. This is the literal way of helping and then getting hit by something. Must be what some people feel later in life when they regret giving a hand."
"You regret it? They're simply trousers."
"They are, but I still have to spend money to buy new ones."
"True. It is a pain in the backside. I think you can sow them up. Won't look the same, yet it might work."
"I'll see. For now, let's pretend nothing happened."

Friday, 17 June 2016

Story #297 - Slimming camp

"Do you reckon this guy will make us slim down?"
"Nothing will make me lose weight. I don't have the will for it anymore."
"Yeah, I feel the same."
A short pause as the Bootcamp guy steps in front of the self-confessed overweight fellows.
"Alright. Are you ready for that beach body?"
"Good. I know you love to eat. I do, too. But there's a difference between what I eat, and what you eat."
"Next thing you'll tell us to is to eat fruit."
"I'm quitting."
"You're not getting a refund."
"Okay, I'll stick around."
That would make people laugh anywhere, apart from here, where crickets were still given.
For every ten push-up that you do, you're allowed a piece of regular fruit, and by regular, I don't dipped in yogurt, caramelized, fried, or some other fancy schmancy thing you guys got going on. I mean a regular one. And, if you really crave that horse manure junk food, you can have some...once you give me one hundred push-ups."
"That's just not fair."
"It's your money. Shouldn't have entered if you think that. Now start pushing and stop flapping."

Thursday, 16 June 2016

Story #296 - Aliens amongst us

Plenty of people go on saying that if aliens were to invade us, we'd show them who's boss.
While that is debatable, we are aliens amongst ourselves.
Everybody has a different belief, different vision, different perception regarding the well-being of life.

If you go by religion and religious people, men and women have to be straight, women have to obedient to the man, and they are not allowed to go over his word. Also, everybody that happens and will happen, it'll be because of a deity, depending on which religion you follow. That's the cool thing about it. The indoctrination differs from continent to continent, and country to country. Heck, from area to area. And some countries want to be blessed by that deity more than others. Probably why they're losing their minds.

If you go by race, white people think they can rule everyone by virtue of... Europe? Because they have the most documented things whereas Africans don't, and Asians are in the East, so they don't matter as much. As they speak that weird language, too. That is, until the last twenty odd years, when some of them have gained some clout. Or have been allowed to gain it. Hispanics haven't gained much of it, unless they were born in specific white countries.

If you go by politics, you have right and left wing, and then you have extremists, who, some of them, are still led by religious beliefs. Others believe in certain regimes, like communism, stalinism, or nazism...

The Earth is round, but there are plenty who still believe it's flat.
People are homosexual, transexual, and a few other sexual, yet the general population thinks they're defective, mentally ill, and some think they deserve to die.
Society wants you to look good, have a toned body, and work like a robot, but then it created fast food, junk food, bad food, and it pushes it to the point where you don't know what to do anymore. Perceived flavour versus actual taste and actual nutrients. Hard decisions that make your tire before you end up doing more worthwhile things.

Before we conquer planets, we should find peace between us.

Wednesday, 15 June 2016

Story #295 - Today. I'm going to do it today.

Oh, god. She just stepped inside the shop and my heart is pounding. I know she'll talk to me. I know I'll act like before. But to change, dammit. I have to ask her.
Good thing I can act normal while this circus is going in my head, otherwise I'd be out of a job faster than you can open an automatic door.
"Hi," Gulp. Here she is, in front of me, with her radiant smile that belongs on TV.
"Hey. Haven't seen you recently." Nine days to be precise. Her red locks are still as silky as ever. Straight hair sure looks great on her.
"Yeah, well, I have some issues. I'm here now, though." Yes, you are.
"Oh, I hope they're being sorted."
"Eh..." Crap. I made her look back in anger.
"So, umm, what would you like?"
"A cider is fine today."
I go away as the tap is so far pushed in the back of the bar that it's basically a different bar altogether. Might as well give it a new name, but the manager doesn't want to. "Pay more taxes," he says. I turned around and facepalmed myself afterward. Didn't think he'd be lacking in the humour department.
Getting back to present, I bring her her pint in less than a minute.
"That was fast."
"It flows well. Four pounds, please."
"Here you go." She hands me a fiver. I put it through the till.
"Say," I go as I give her the pounds change. "Would you like to go out sometimes?"
Her face goes numb, as if she had been thunderstuck. "I, well, I have someone in my life. But thanks for thinking of me. I'm sure you'll find that person you're searching for." She smiled as she put the pound in her wallet, then nabbed the pint and went off, off, off into the wilderness.
Me? I felt awkward for the next hour or so. Ain't that a bitch?

Tuesday, 14 June 2016

Story #294 - The baker and the narrator

There was once this girl that loved to bake.
And like any other girl that loved to bake, she made pretzels that looked like half-open bananas, donuts that were half ring, half full, if that makes any sense.
But most of all, she enjoyed making scones. Dinky ones, plump ones, oddly-shaped ones, burnt ones-
"Hey, you're making me look bad."
"It's not my problem that you have a weird sense."
"You can omit stuff, you know. You're the narrator."
After hearing that, she stormed off, slamming the kitchen door after her.
"I'll make something even you'll enjoy."
"Like I care what you make. I'm just telling the story."

Time passed, two days to be precise, and she wounded up curled on the sofa, under a blanket, TV set to white fuzz as she forgot to pay the cable.
I should feel guilty for how I told her story, yet I'm not. Does that make me, the narrator, a bad guy?

Monday, 13 June 2016

Story #293 - Apologize, dammit

"Hey, mate."
"How's about you apologize?"
"Never seen you in my life. What's there to apologize about."
"You bumped into me and spilled my drink."
"Oh, that it? If you wouldn't be all over the place, I wouldn't have touched you. Look around. Everybody's standing chill, grouped, while you and your lot are spread everywhere. Why do you make it harder for people to move around, huh?"
"Apologize, mate."
"Apologize. Now!"
"Haha. How's about you take a hike before you embarrass yourself?"
"Apologize, mate."
"Bye bye."
"Let go of my shoulder."
"I said let go."
"Say you're sorry."
"Fine. I'm sorry I couldn't avoid you."
"That's not good enough."
"Best you're gonna get from me."
"Do we have a problem here, gents?"
"Now the bouncer's here because of your hand on my shoulder. This guy was moving all over the place, and I had to go to the other side. There was no evading him, as much as I tried, and I bumped into him a little. Now his drink's spilled a little."
"A little? More like half."
"Alright, alright. I'll talk to the bartender, while you two break it up, okay?"
"Fine by me."

Sunday, 12 June 2016

Story #292 - That moment

It was at that exact point in time that Sean realized he fucked up.
"Well?" Marie said with her sassy, resting bitch face voice.
"What?" The culprit kept his firm and cocky nature.
"Nah. I'm fine, thanks."
"That's not a request."
"Is it a plea?" A big smile rises on the male's face as he shoves it into the woman's.
"Do you have a death wish?"
"If I do, who will make it come true?"
She held her silence.
"What I thought so. I'm a bad, bad, man, and there's nothing you can do about it."
Seeing him strut around, her switch flicked.
She grabbed him by the collar and whacked over the chin.
"What's that, champ?"
"I'm sorry." Sean's cheeks moved like a river about to meet the waterfall.

Saturday, 11 June 2016

Story #291 - Cafe Blaggers

Lurking about on the streets, not knowing what to do with myself, if I'm hungry or simply bored, I pass by this dinky little corner shop. Well, more like a cafe than a shop. Four tables and ten chairs outside, a couple of umbrellas, and an advert on every piece. "Blaggers, because we're honest." Knowing some basic slang, I couldn't help but laugh.
I approach the window to glance at the menu. Stuff that everyone has, like chicken, beef, pork, and the newer veggie sandwich. The only difference between them is the meat or lack thereof, which is a tad shocking considering you're paying five pounds (three for the simpler one) for a mini baguette cut in half, spread around with salad, a couple slices of tomatoes, pickles, and the occasional sauce like salsa, mayo, mustard, ketchup, or guacamole. Yep, only one. At least they're honest about it.
Next down the menu is the mains. "Fishin' chips," which I'm guessing is a new take on the classic, alongside the "Coleslawed chicken breasts." That definitely costs more than the drumsticks or wings.
And their third main is salad with croutons. They're really taking the piss; makes me smile.
Of course, there's the desert, chocolate ice cream.
As I keep staring at this thing, a hand is waving from behind it. I blink and turn my eyes towards the moving skin. It's a girl inviting me in. "Huh?" I go in my head.
I'm thinking about it for a second or two, then I shake my head and walk away. Weirdo!

Friday, 10 June 2016

Story #290 - Back in the day #transport

Back in the day, when you didn't have these technological advancements where you can make money through various online ways, people, especially those in more remote places, had to take the train every time they went to work. And that train ride took them at least a couple of hours. Not that their home was that far from the respective location, but the speed with which the transport moved made one grow old and sick.
The hinges could be felt, going "clunk-clunk-clunk" after it started rolling the engine.
More often than not, there was a particular question going on. "Will I survive the trip? Will it break in half? Will my children be alright?" A particular long one, okay. But that's how it blurted within the passenger's cranium.
Back in the day, when you had bigger chances of not coming home from a failed engine than being hit by a car or shot by a gun.

Thursday, 9 June 2016

Story #289 - Playing video games

Often times, people will question those that spend their time playing a game instead of doing something productive.
In some aspect, that is true, as not everyone can make money off of a game if they don't use streaming sites and such, but, playing them improves the player.
They learn that patience is a virtue.
They learn how to play in a team, how to command, how to take a bullet.
They learn how to get frustrated and come back for more.
They learn how to think differently. Like in chess.
They also learn how to have fun in a different way, with strangers (or alone).
Video games, while some shun them, some say they're for children, or for those who don't have their heads on their shoulders, but spending time watching a sports match, watching the flavour of the month in movies, reading drivel magazine and boring social media posts that add nothing to your life, is definitely more worth it, right?

Wednesday, 8 June 2016

Story #288 - An eating man's workout

One push-up, two push-ups, three...hghghgh...barely did it.
I can already feel the muscles tingling. My biceps are twitching, my lower back is burning, and my knees are pretty much rock-solid. If someone were to touch me, I'd crumble to the ground like a bucket of bolts.
Now to eat. I've had exactly 55 seconds of workout today, which is 15 longer than yesterday, when I did the same three, but faster.
I feel like the strongmen, even though I'm a stickman.
Three more tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and I'm all set to get into the Olympics at lifting.
Now to eat those two pizzas I couldn't finish from yesterday.

Tuesday, 7 June 2016

Story #287 - All downbord!

Oh, wow. We've reached our destination. A new shiny city, where everything looks like a normal place that you'd expect, apart from this luster that's coming from the sun's rays. Damn. Should've brought sunglasses.
As we're all waiting to leave this train, going into a single file between chair rows as if we're going to get stamped and we've turned a blind eye to the pain, yet everyone seems to have a smile.
When there's a gap between people, the ones that are waiting, still on the chairs, jump in to fill them back. Cement trucks would be jealous.
Fortunately, we're not sardined in, but there might be a chance for that if someone's too eager.
Until then, we all have to pretend the downboarding is the best thing around and not show our sorrow.

Monday, 6 June 2016

Story #286 - Bootcamp argument

"Drop and give me fifty, maggot."
"Sir, no, sir."
"There is no no in bootcamp, maggot. Now give me fifty."
"No, sir."
"Dammit. I'm not telling you, I'm ordering you to give me fifty."
"No, sir."
"Why not, you worm bastard?"
"Because I'm not strong enough. And stop talking to me like that."
"You need discipline, punk."
"I won't get anything if you go about it like that."
"You'll get something."
"I will. The desire to deck you."
"Ohhohohohoh. Think you can take me, huh?"
"I don't know if I will take you, but I will try to take you, and if I do, I want you to give me fifty."
"Hah. Get ready, peachfuzz. It's about to be serious."

Sunday, 5 June 2016

Story #285 - Desolate places

There are cities in the world, doesn't matter if the countries are big or small, what does is how these particular locations are so uninhabited, so unloved, yet they still have something unique, something quaint.
Not many people live there, but those five that do look after the vegetation, the roads, the housing, the animals, the money, and the culture. Quite a lot, I know.
There's always that why. Why stay? Why do it? Why are you so crazy?
The answer is simple.
Fewer people, less drama. Fewer people, less noise. Fewer people, more of a home. Fewer people, well...
Plus that added bonus of a smile from a tourist. That will get to anyone's heart. If they have it.

Saturday, 4 June 2016

Story #284 - It's okay. Once more.

I'm sure every person who has started something, or wanted to do something, has told themselves at least once, that today was the last time they were going to do that particular bad habit.
And days passed, and they did it again. And again. So much for last time, right?
Addiction, regardless of the object, isn't a good thing, yet, sometimes, there is no helping thyself. Going crazy is standard.
There are rare occasions when a person is asked for a hand, or an institution, or worse, family. If the foresight is there in order to notice that, then the battle might be won.
If people force themselves upon thee, and drive the person away, the showdown has been lost.
But what if there is no one there, no will to get anyone, no desire to move forward, no demeanor for improvement?
The world goes sadder by the way at the lack of smiles on its surface. And that's not healthy. Not healthy at all.

Friday, 3 June 2016

Story #283 - Today's life

Ah, those were the days before technology came this advanced.
You went outside and there were no people with wires sticking out of their ears.
No people hunched back, staring at a lit screen, trying to wiggle their fingers while they make the effort to walk and pay attention at the environment at the same time.
You used to hear laughter and cackles, jokes and bad puns, all coming about in the spirit of "I don't got anything else to do with my time."
Now, you stay secluded in your room, eating bad food on a weekly basis, watching the flavor of the month in TV, all the while adding nothing significant to your life.
But hey, it's enjoyable, and it's not the hurting anyone else, so why change?

Thursday, 2 June 2016

Story #282 - We goin' out

"Yo, Sally, we goin' out tonight."
"Huh? It's Thursday, you lummox. We've school tomorrow."
"So? No important classes goin' on. 'Sides, we can always get that damn jellyfish, Curtis, to give his notes."
"Settles it."
"Wait! I don't wanna go out tonight. I still have my hoework. I meant home-"
"Hoework is right. Get out of those pajamas and put on that yellow satin dress, and let's hit the streets."
"Nuh-uh. I need make-up, a new hairstyle-"
"Want me to slap the shit outta ya right now?"
"No. You look fine. Let's go."
"Fine. It'll take a while until I get ready, though."
"Just move your ass."
"So pushy..."

Wednesday, 1 June 2016

Story #281 - What do you want to be when you grow up?

"Well, children, what do you want to be when you're older?"
"I want to be a nurse because I like to help people."
"Very nice, but you should know it doesn't pay well. Anyone else?"
"I want to be a teacher like you."
"Admirable, darling, but you might get disappointed easily."
"I want to be a footballer."
"In the Premier League?"
"You better hope so, otherwise you won't make enough money."
"Teacher, why are you so upset?"
"The world isn't fair, love, and it gets you down sometimes. I'm down, too."
"Oh, don't worry, teacher. I'll write you a story and you'll feel better after you read it."
"Thanks. Then I'll get back to reality."

Tuesday, 31 May 2016

Story #280 - That gym noise

Machines going up and down, side to side, back and to the front.
Guys scrunching their teeth as they pull the bar closer to their chest hoping the muscles would get bigger in no time flat, while the girls look cute, doing small weights, trying to keep firm, compact, and be like the present a somebody would want. With the occasional giggle added in for good measure.
Somewhere, on the other side of the tracks, are the pedaling people with towels over their shoulders, sweat dripping out from their ankles and wrists, perking their rears with that juicy jell-o still hanging about.
Muzzled within these "huffs", "nghngh" and "ahhh" lies that music you hear when you're drunk and about to pass out. Beneath that, the bucket of bolts assembled for human pain.
They say metal hurt. Yet we enjoy it so much.

Monday, 30 May 2016

Story #279 - The smell of nicotine

"You alright, Alice?"
"I'm actually not. I think I need a fix."
"You told you quit smoking a couple of days ago, but look at you now, shivering, looking all pale like you've been visited by the ghost of the future."
"Shut up. I know you like a cig now and then. Use one."
"You wanna watch me puff?"
"You for real?"
"Do it already."
"Ugh, it's like you don't know how to smoke at all. You're taking away the cool stuff about this thing and making it awkward and ugly. I've had boys tell me they don't like girls nicotinizing themselves. I can see why, now."
"Nicotinizing? Wow. But you've smoked with me before, you knew how I did it."
"Didn't pay as much attention as I am now. Blow some of that scent in my face."
"Do it already."
"... There."
"Ahhh, I feel normal again."
"You're nuts."

Sunday, 29 May 2016

Story #278 - Forming a queue

As soon as I felt a rumble in my belly, I left my crib in search of grub.
After I turned the first of five corners to get on the main street, I saw this queue formed in front of a house.
Initially I though it was only for people who were dressed sharp, but as I approached, there were guys with leather jackets, skinhead girls, tattooed people who didn't care if they showed. Pretty much all walks of life. I figured I could ask at least.
I stopped behind these two girls who looked like the type that go out to clubs every weekend to get drunk, with not a lot on, both on them and over them, with make-up that would make you take a step back.
"So, is this a party?"
"Nah. We're waiting for a line?"
"A line?"
"Yeah, you know..." and this blonde covers a nostril while sucking air with the other.
I turn my head sideways to at the other one, brunette.
"This line thing, you have it?"
"They're giving it for free."
"And all these people are waiting for it?"
Crazy is what I thought. I've done chalk lines on football fields before, but I'm pretty sure this is something different.
I think I'll postpone shopping.

Saturday, 28 May 2016

Story #277 - Dumb shit you say in class #1

"I'm sorry, teach, I don't remember what that's called. I saw a show where this guy played the character, and it was called... The Dominoes. But I don't remember what was his name. Did anyone see it?"
"Really? Nobody watches that show?"
"Hey, don't worry, mate. I'm sure I watch stuff that nobody watches."
"We're not talking about porn here."
"Everybody watches that."
"I don't," said one of the grade A student females in the class, a blonde with a slim model's body and a face that would make cover magazines if she was a celeb.
"You don't. You just make them."
A few laughs came about.
"That's right," she interrupted. "I make them. And you're not invited for my next one."
The guy turned beetroot as the one who didn't know the answer turned from one to the other.
"Well, I'm glad my class can have this kind of conversation. If only you knew the answers to my questions as fast."

Friday, 27 May 2016

Story #276 - The one tree

In the whole park there is one tree. Only one.
It's not like the park is huge, but you can fit over four hundred people with ease, let them get thrashed with alcohol, and still have space.
Still, this one tree in a clean grassy patch is such a weird sight that tourists have been coming here. I asked one of them why.
"It's in the guide brochures."
"What do you think now that you're looking at it?"
"False advertising."
Damn right. A regular oak tree that wouldn't stand out anywhere else but this place is in the tourist's guide book.
I wonder if whoever's in charge of this will want to make money somewhere down the line.
"Come one, come all, to see the 10th wonder of the world. The lonely tree, shivering with glee, at the incoming bee, wondering if it'll pee."
Okay, the last one needs some tuning, but I still wouldn't be surprised if they do this.

Thursday, 26 May 2016

Story #275 - Orange peel

The art of throwing up. It's not an art, per se, but you know, there's a difference between having it all in one place or having it all over yourself like a piggy.
I remember this one time when Mark was emptying his bowels after a long night drinking, and somehow, an orange scent came about, like someone was peeling that fruit around us, even though we were on the street, near chicken shops and chippies. The stench from those oil-using fast food making dime-costing places wasn't enough to overthrow the incoming citrus flavour.
I looked around to see where it might come from, using my nose to guide me like a dog is guided towards his meal, and I couldn't find it. Three alleyways passed, and there was no stopping it. I carried on until I could smell no more, and once that happened, I turned back, hoping for it to return, but it did not.
An orange peel zest came into my life on a whim, and escaped as fast, silencing my moment of amazement.
Whenever someone pukes, I always remember that scent making me go like the red string of fate, except it was cut short, like it wasn't meant to be. And I get sad.

Wednesday, 25 May 2016

Story #274 - The man that couldn't have fun

During my bartending days, I kept seeing this guy in the pub. He would come in when most people would, the dreaded six p.m., after you finished work and came to get at least one before heading home. Well, this guy would get three or so before bouncing, and he'd always be alone. I don't know where he worked or what he did, although the one time we managed to chat, we had it interrupted by my manager. Regardless, I saw him almost every day for five months.
He came alone, he didn't talk to anyone, but simply read stuff on his phone. He had the occasional burger at times, but other than that, he kept to himself.
We brought in DJays, and had people jump around, on tables, on chairs, on the bar counter at times, except for this guy. He would place himself in a corner somewhere, drink his pint carefully, and then go.
I don't know what he did to have fun, but it sure wasn't through music, dancing, girls, or whatnot. Some people are like that. And that's a shame.

Tuesday, 24 May 2016

Story #273 - The missed sunrise

Here I am, at three in the morning, shivering as I didn't bring warmer clothes with me.
The night out with the mates didn't go as planned and I didn't have anything to do, with sleep being out of question since...well, you always sleep, how about something different? They weren't up for that, it seems.
Yeah, bus stop bench cold as steel, even though it's plastic, sea breeze pumping every three seconds, sending down chills under my trousers; the protective glass wall that made the station wasn't rooted to the ground.
I looked to the front and saw clear skies overcoming the bleakness of the night. and I was hopeful I might see my first ever sunrise. I was getting excited, but that didn't shake the chill of the pier.
Behind me, the moon was in cahoots with the brighter cloud, playing "Guess the shape" while adding some orange-ish colour in the background, giving them the spotlight. Good old Moon, eh?
Then I made the mistake of asking Google when will the sun actually come up. Five o' clock. Ugh.
I spent an hour and a half in on my toes, doing the hippy-hippy-shake, trying not to curse the temperature too much, but once the skies lit in every part, and the white planet vanished, it was clear I couldn't see the Big Star come forth. Too much grey above. I had to go on my way, disappointed.
Until next time, right?

Monday, 23 May 2016

Story #272 - The nag

"Come on already."
"Let's go out."
"I told you I'm busy, didn't I?"
"That was so two hours ago."
"Yeah, and it's still not done."
"Not today."
"Screw the work. Let's have fun, okay?"
"Sure. Just not today."
"I hate you."
"That's fine."
"I'm going out with my girls instead."
"Cool. Have fun."
"I'm going out the door right now."

Sunday, 22 May 2016

Story #271 - Runners drive me crazy

Damn running. I hate running and running events. I hate these healthy people by a large margin more so than I do with people that don't eat meat.
I'm a regular guy who drives a regular car through a regular big city, that has a regular run of the mill office job, and likes to get hammered regularly between Wednesday and Saturday, especially on Thursday and Friday, and I love that greasy, sleazy, non-herbal friendly sammy with bacon that does a hungover body all the good in the world. What do you have after a run, an ice pack?
Yeah, not the same thing.
People should stop being healthy.

Saturday, 21 May 2016

Story #270 - Searching for yourself

Every person should go and find themselves. For that they should go through hoops and trials and whatnot. According to most people, that's what you should do. But then again, most people don't find themselves. They slog along until they reach their pension age, which gradually increases by the decade, and then they might try to discover something they once had, as a child. Maybe. 
Of course, that could be just existential bullshit. However, why do people get into depression? Why do they lack the motivation after a while? Why does their form dip so much they start to doubt themselves? No, why do they get bored. That's the word. Bored. You get so bored and frustrated and annoyed and whatever other word like apathetic, and you lose your way. Simple as that. What do you to change yourself? Crazy stuff.
You shave your head. You get a tattoo. You go on a diet, either to get skinny or to get fat, you're not judgmental. You move to a different town, or country, or even a continent. You travel the world.
Sometimes, and on rare occasions, you don't know what to do. You simply quit your job and stay in bed for hours upon days, without showering, barely eating.
I know what I'm going to do. I'm on the bridge right now, about to go up. I hope the water's fine. If I'm not, I might not surface. Hmm...

Friday, 20 May 2016

Story #269 - Ordering a burger

"I'd like to order a burger. Does it come with ketchup?"
"Bread? Not bun?"
"So I'm paying triple than what I'd pay in a regular place for a burger with bread?"
"Can you say more than one word?"
"Can you explain why it's so expensive?"
"You're killing me."
"Are you bored?"
"How about we have some fun?"
"Add on the order, cheese, tomato, pickles, and those three sauces."
"Come on, just do it. If they'll have a problem, I'll talk to them. And I'll give you a tip, too."
"Good man. Think outside the box next time, alright?"
"You betcha."

Thursday, 19 May 2016

Story #268 - Dope

"This album's dope."
"I listened through it and didn't find anything interesting."
"'Cause you're a dope, yo."
"If you keep talking smack, I'll smack you so silly you'll be talking in rhymes for a week."
"That would be dope. But you can't touch me since I'ma rope-a-dope your ass until you won't be able to do anything."
"You know, we always argue stupidly like this."
"Yeah. I like it. I've never had this with anyone."
"The day we'll stop talking like this will be day we'll split apart."
"That's what I'm sayin', buoyeee!"

Wednesday, 18 May 2016

Story #267 - Waiting for that call

Alright. They told me they'd call me today. It's 8 a.m.. Too early. I know. But I can't keep my eyes off of it. What to do in the meantime? Go for a run? I don't have where to keep my phone. Damn. Maybe tomorrow. For now, I'll eat something and watch a movie.

Been three hours since and my phone hasn't been lit once. Dammit. I'll read.

Alright. I need a break from that book. After five hours, you tend to get hungry. Hmm...when's that call gonna happen? You'd expect people that want to hire you ring between 12 and 2. I hope they're late.

9 p.m.. Haven't done anything today other than read and watch movies. My phone wasn't used at all. I even checked to see if the signal failed, but no, it was fine. Guess they don't want me. Their loss. I feel like grabbing some ice cream right now. Comfort food at its best, one dollop at a time.

Tuesday, 17 May 2016

Story #266 - The sun deceives

Yesterday was glowing. The sun brought its A game over to my crummy little place that had mostly rain and the occasional non-rainy day.
I figured I'd go out in shorts, something a bit rare in these parts.
It was fine for the first few hours, but as soon as I stepped inside this shopping mall, the clouds arrived. Ten minutes later and all I could hear on the glass was "toc, toc, toc, toc".
A sane person would grab a cab and head home, if their outing was finished. Me? I stayed in there until the night came, hoping the shower would die out. Well, it didn't.
It did not and I was cold, flustered, and annoyed at my wasted day when it started off so shiny.
Maybe that was a secret message from old red patch in the sky to no get cocky or hopeful in this place.

Monday, 16 May 2016

Story #265 - How the world became pussified

In the '30s and '40s you had cartoons with various degrees of violence, some of which had crude violence towards women (Popeye), but you laughed and you were entertained and you rooted for the hero the kick that guy's ass. As a child, that was awesome. That's what made you believe you could do in the future.
Nowadays, you're not allowed to smack women, let alone strangle them, in cartoon form that is, because it's not PG, because children will get the wrong message, because of some reason that nobody thinks of yet they include some vague description just for the hell of it.
I don't think the people that grew up in the '80s and '90s believed everything that happened on the screen should happen in real life.
People are more likely to get a brain problem from those around them, their language and behaviour, than from some fictitious characters, who, truthfully, leave impressions, but they are more good than bad.
The world is too cautious about what is and is not allowed, and its damaging everybody, whether they like it or not.

Sunday, 15 May 2016

Story #264 - Gigging

Sometimes, after travelling miles and miles to go from one place to another, you ask yourself that fundamental question that pops up into everyone's mind, those that do this thing that is.
"Is it still worth it?"
Bus trips, time wasted travelling, money spent on crap food, unneeded alcohol, sometimes paying for a last minute hotel stay. They take their toll after a while. Wallet, and mental.
You get it. You get a kick out of what you're doing. The audience, or a few from there, get the gist of what you're doing, too, and that makes you happy.
Those sacrifices will burn you out at some point. you'll end up in your cave, stay there for a while as you go to work sulking and not bothering to talk to anyone about it since they don't get you.
Once in a blue moon you get so distressed that you make a plan. "If I'm not there in x number of years, I'll quit." And what will you do once that calendar goes completely blank. You'll start eating more crap food, drink more, heck, even take a new vice for a change. Right? It's supposed to be a new you.
Then you get so bored that you try to get back to where you were, except that you're going to go about it differently.
Hmm...decisions, decisions...

Saturday, 14 May 2016

Story #263 - Being blunt

It's easy to sit on the sidelines and observe people interact with one another, or with the environment, say to yourself " that's how they do it." while wondering why you can't do that particular thing, whether it be picking up girls, getting drunk the nice way, or being polite.
But there's this other thing I can do perfectly, and I see others coy when they are forced to go about it. And that's to be blunt.
People on the internet easily do this, although most do it with malice and for kicks, to which the term 'trolling' was invented.
To be fair, some are quite blunt, but on the phone or through an email rather than face to face.
Not that many want to be told they have been fired or dumped and have their expression change in front of others.
Also, being bad is easy, and taking the easy way is not the best at all times.
Ten yeses barely outdo one no. A terrible thing to have.

Friday, 13 May 2016

Story #262 - Stop walking with your head in the ground

I usually walk with my head lowered. No particular reason other than that's how my neck is. Bent to oogle the ground and people's feet. When I do raise it, I feel like that ostrich or vulture from a Bugs Bunny cartoon. I sometimes can't keep from baring my teeth and doing that "huh, uh-huh-huh" laughter.
I miss out on plenty of sights, nature, and living beings.
Then this one song played a verse in my eardrums. "Look up and glance around. See the beauty abound." So I did.
People wearing ripped jeans or skin-tight trousers waltzed past me, having t-shirts with various political or sport logos, making me wonder why they would be willing to wear someone else's message for free. Their frilly haircuts, either curly hair made to look like a pony had run rampage through their scalp, or gone barren on one side, raised like a bridge on the other, perhaps in sign of protest for losing their brain cells through the telly.
I would rather look at the cobblestone and dream a world with smiles and simplicity, than a world with smirks and smugness.

Thursday, 12 May 2016

Story #261 - Please don't go (final part)

"Put the knife down," said one of them.
"Now!" the other carried on.
He still had the blade near his neck, only he was wondering why two police officers were in his flat. 'She didn't yell that loudly, and I had my palm over her mouth, so why are they here?"
"Come on. You've already killed one person. There's no point in killing another one."
"But there is. Stay back or I'm gonna plunge this straight in."
The other copper takes one step forward, to spite the man, who, upon seeing that, took to crawling away from them, near the corner of the one-bedroom place.
"If you-" He didn't have to finish as both of them advanced, and let out a scream as his head dropped on the floor.
Hastily, the service men approached him, and when one turned the person over, the knife bludgeoned him in the artery. The hand that did it grabbed the knife back and stuck it in the heart. Twice.
The other officer panicked, and was on his way out when the blade stuck him in the nape.
Both were rendered immobile.
He looked at them, then at the woman.
"If only you didn't want to dump me. Now who knows what's going to happen. It's on you."