Get A Grip

Something about an old jukebox, a sweaty wood interior, with incense burning, cheap whiskey drinks and small glasses of red wine overflowing from the drunk waitresses drink tray makes me smile.

I remember fluttering feathers, twirling pasties and ambiguously gay folks laughing and drinking casually throwing their money at the sweet sexy females turning on both gay and straights.

This was before the modern day Pussycat Dolls and films like Burlesque. Before most of these kids were born. Back when the economy wasn't failing miserably and people didn't worry about naturally disasters and terrorist attacks.

It was a time when street players fiddled on their violins and particular alleys housed cheap Gypsy folks who wanted nothing more than to celebrate and dance.

The true medicine to forget troubled times.

Ambience

It's all gone. From the day that we visited that awful space I knew we were done for.

Now desititute with no money, little business and a career starving atitude I don't believe good things are heading this way. It was bad enough a year ago facing the storm but now things are clouding up and the snow is falling over this sunny setting.

How is it that everyone else is getting that premium package but my partner and I keep missing the delivery?

What once was fine is now afloat.

What tears have dried will now come out.

While smiling eyes are tearing up blood,

The rest stays quiet,

All is done.

The Rain

It was one of those fall brisk days where the leaves turned yellow. When they hit the ground every footstep found a crunch underneath them.

Half awake in study hall hell I was praying to God for anything amusing or worth my while. Where were the Michael Meyers moments? You know, the ones where you're sitting in class half awake and turn to see a masked creature staring at you through a window before being interrupted by a teacher. Those are the things I live for, but instead I dream hopelessly to exit not only this lulling nightmare but this terrible town.

The only somewhat exciting tale this town has is a house by the freeway. Unlike any other house this one is barely visible due to the shrubs and twisted tree's that cover its secrets.

The best part of our horrible winters is the fact that the trees die and reveal this two story monstrosity that has sunken deep into the earth. You'd think it was melting.

My friend Sarah and I went there once. It was raining which meant the sky was cloudy and dark. I brought my video camera and a flashlight and we dared ourselves to check it out. While other cars zoomed by, we boldly stepped into the thicket to investigate. Inside the broken windows were flipped mattresses and old furniture that had rotted away. It was almost like the abandoned house was still occupied but we were both too afraid to step any closer. When we finally did, a woodland creature scurried along and scared the shit out of us.

I guess we're not survivors in the horror universe.