I take a sip of coffee. The booth I’m sitting in at this diner is falling apart. I look over at my old friend who I haven’t seen in a while. We used to hang out a lot, he was always right over my shoulder for almost a year. All I did was think about him.
“I can’t stop thinking about the past,” I say, breaking up the silence. “All I do is sit and think about it, you know? I mean, I get it, going through cancer, beating it, now everyone wants to be my friend again. ‘Oh hey man long time no talk,’ shit like that. It seems…disingenuous.”
I take another sip of coffee. I start noticing how the light is in this place. It’s so bright. Not a great atmosphere for 3 A.M. Especially with all the dregs about. I continue my conversation. “I mean don’t get me wrong, I think it’s nice that they’re trying to be friendly or whatever. But up until I almost die and you find out from some third party source, now we’re friends? Like, come on. Seriously it’s bullshit. But it keeps bringing up all these old memories. It’s going to be the death of me, no offense.”
“None taken,” says Death, my old friend. He was always right over my shoulder. “So, are you ready to go yet? My car is right outside.”
“Nah,” I say before taking another sip of coffee. “I got shit to do yet.”
“Yeah but you always say that.”
“I know. I mean it this time. I’ll get a taxi, you can go.”
For all the people complaining about how TDKR isn’t like TDK, gentlesleaze sets you straight
“Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called The Pledge.The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course… it probably isn’t. The second act is called The Turn. The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you’re looking for the secret… but you won’t find it, because of course you’re not really looking. You don’t really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn’t clap yet. Because making something disappear isn’t enough; you have to bring it back. That’s why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call The Prestige.”
Happy Birthday America!
A new video up!
My rant on 50 Shades of Grey
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from marijuana, it’s that I’ve learned from marijuana. In all honesty, I rarely partake in blazing up the more bohemian botanicals, but when I do, it always leads to the acquiescence of knowledge that sober-me would never bother to look…
Trying to do a vlog thing, let me know what you think!
Since today is Star Wars Day and everyone I know is having a fantastic time writing, “May the 4th be with you” on Facebook and Twitter, I thought I’d ask a question that’s been troubling me for weeks now:
When are we going to deal with the troubling fact that Luke Skywalker is one of the most successful and best respected mass killers in history?
Not only does Skywalker kill tens of thousands — in hand-to-hand combat and by blowing up two iterations of the Death Star — but he’s celebrated as a galatic hero for doing it (to say nothing of that fact that Earth-bound movie-goers consistently name him as an exemplar of heroism decade after decade).
I understand that the Empire is an unquestionable evil and that bringing an end to Palpatine’s reign of totalitarian terror is laudable, but the body count that Skywalker racks up along the way surely must give us pause.
When that Death Star explodes and thousands of lives are lost, and then the very next scene shows Skywalker and his friends cheering and laughing, isn’t our moral compass taken for an uncomfortable spin? How can we explain these celebrations to our children?
I hate this glass box. I sit here naked and alone, with only the image of my Juliet to comfort me. Comfort…No, torture. She sits in her own glass prison, staring at me. There is nothing else but darkness surrounding us. She sits on her stool, as do I.
I remember the first night I met her. I was so alone, so heartbroken. And there she was, dancing the night away. I knew nothing of her family till later that evening, but the moment our eyes locked I knew I would not care if she was the Devil Incarnate. I had to have her forever.
I remember the first time we made love. The feeling of being connected to someone that truly understood me. The way she breathed when we embraced was all I ever wanted to know. Her scent was more intoxicating than any drink that had graced my lips. I knew, in my heart of hearts, she felt the same.
Our families would never let us be together. The bloodshed and animosity was too great. Blood was on my hands by the time we died. We were going to be together forever. Then I saw her body on the cold slab in her family tomb. I thought for sure she was dead. I could think of nothing else to do but to be with her.
When I awoke in this place, this darkness, she was not here. I thought for sure she had ascended to the Heavens. I knew this was Hell when my eyes opened. There is a chill in this place, an emptiness. It is truly void of God. Then the light came upon this glass box. I felt a presence behind me.
“She will be here soon, my dear Romeo,” the voice said to me. I felt the creature’s hand grace my shoulder. It was a cold I had never felt. It froze my body still. When it released me, there was no where I could go. I thought of Juliet and I felt a tear fall down my face.
“Romeo?” I heard Juliet say. I turned towards her voice and ran towards it. Then the cold hand grasped me by my arms. I tried to fight them as I heard Juliet scream for me. I screamed for her till I was hoarse. I heard the demons laughing at us.
“Don’t touch me!” Juliet violently yelled. “No! Stop!” I heard the ripping of clothes from where she was. Then, without warning, my clothes were ripped as well. Then I was thrown in this box and she was thrown in hers.
At first, we tried to break free. I would slam against the glass with all my might. She would place herself against the glass, as if trying to feel any piece of me that she could. As the years past, I finally stopped trying.
Now all I do is try to get her to look at me. We would at least have the image of each other, but it was too much for her. I cannot say when, nor can I say how long, it was when she stopped looking at me. I cannot bring myself to look away. I love her so much. I love her more than God himself. I do not need anything except for her to look at me again.
“Please look at me,” I said to her. “Look at me!” Is it because of the glass? Can she not hear me? I do not remember if she can.
“What is the point?” Juliet answers.
“We’re together Juliet. I may not be able to hold you, but just to see your eyes and hear your voice is enough.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I am in this place because of you!” she screams. She finally looks at me, but it is with an anger I have never seen from her.
“But…You were dead when I found you.”
“I faked my death, I faked it to be with you! And on a whim, you take your own life! I had nothing without you! I had to do the same!”
“Then I end up here, in this place, and I can see you and can’t touch you. I can’t feel your lips against mine! Nothing! All I can see you do is struggle to be with me as I do the same. And I’ve prayed to God ever since, hoping that one of my whispers would be carried to him. But you don’t even try. You don’t have God in your heart. You never have.”
“I love you Juliet! All I want is you, that’s all I need!”
“Don’t you hear yourself? Romeo, did you ever love me? Or was it lust and passion that drove you?”
“I have never felt this for anyone before you!”
“And the others you met?”
“They were nothing to you! You are my guiding star! You are the air that I breathe!”
“I cannot help but wonder if you had said the same to others before me. You were the first man that I had lied with, yet you know so much of what to do.”
“Please, do not doubt me! I am yours forever!”
“And you shall have me forever, but only in sight. But I will turn my heart to God, for he may forgive me for my passions.” Juliet says to me. Then she sits down on her stool and makes the sign of the cross across her body. She leans forward and begins to pray.
I slam myself against the glass once more. I scream her name. I cannot have our last conversation be this way. I must have her! I take my stool and slam it against the glass. The impact is so hard the stool breaks into splinters. I sit down on the cold ground and press my hand against the glass.