400!

I made it. Not sure what kind of a milestone it is. But I did it. 400 entries that to me are unique, every one of them.

Read in 19 different countries. Wow. Visited by more than 24,000 eyes. Even though some of them were insane stalkers.

The mysteries of my point far out weigh the things that have been figured out. But the lack of feedback by all but a few truly tells me how alone in a crowded world a person can ultimately turn out to be...

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I sit upon the steps of my palace. I drink bitter wine this day. The Empire, Ha ha the Empire. Today I learned that not just war can crumble an Empire. 

Today I learned that the dragons so long held in captivity by my lineage have more than one way to escape. I learned that their thoughts like wings can fly. That their musings like actions can speak to the mind's. And there the  deceit grows like weeds in the hearts of the people. 

I learned that the people my ancestors have have sworn to protect are no different than dragon droppings. So quickly do they resemble and begin to stink of dragon. So today I sit upon the steps of the palace and drink bitter wine. 

While I stood guard to serve and protect, in the end I serve and protect a rotted garden. As the people cry out to save the refugees all the while starving their own children. While tearing down the statues of leaders and heroes that came before because they only just now discovered that they too were human and made mistakes. 

Kill them! Kill them! There's always a them but who they are changes with the wind and the seasons. All of them are evil! Only we can kill us! We are never wrong! If you kill us you are them! Madness! Madness! Only the musings of dragons. 

I was not born to understand this madness. But I am forced to deal with it. And I am failing. I have already failed. The wine is bitter. The vintage once sweet only serves to remind me of where I came from of happier days and brighter futures. Now it is just bitter on the tongue an ever present reminder of what I have failed to accomplish. 

My Lord, the court is about to convene.

Ever my nursemaid and taskmaster Chamberlain. Which will you be today? 

My Lord I am only a servant. Your royal reminder today. 

So be it loyal servant-taskmaster, I am coming. What truly is the point now that the very same people who appear at the court are doing the dealings of the dragons? 

Sire, I stand by you. If you fail I fail with you. If you find a way I will stand with you. My fate is tied to yours. We do what we can. 

Well said loyal servant-nursemaid. Well said. Let us see what there is to see of this latest court. 

Resting upon it, this seat chaffs. In this audience chamber, so many, so loud. So many just wanting to be heard. So many suspecting this may be the last. So many wanting for it not to be true. 

Silence!, silence in the Hall! This court will now begin. Lord Ray Ronin III shall hear your petitions now. 

At once the clamor rose like a tsunami. Only without the cooling wetness. It is harsh, some of it sharp. None of it coherent. The dragons have won. They have seized the day and the Empire. 

Only bitter wine to drink on this, the 400th court of the Empire.

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Some heartaches never die. Some of us know why. Because they're real....

Don't take it personal. It was never personal. 

A fragrant scent carried on a light breeze from roses. Special roses, grown for just this occasion. Her presence, not so much there, as it was engulfing. Not so much a walk to me, as it was she made space come to her. Queen to take thrown. Beauty implied as part of the quo. 

At once her eyes take me in. I feel examined and dissected whole. I feel both allowed and  cherished. As if an answer to an unspoken request, she takes my hand.  Warm, soft, gentle, all the clichés are true. I tremble at the revelation. 

I know what I must do. I've known since the 1st day that it was necessary. Now at this moment I fear the unknown the uncertainty. But I must steal myself. I must cement my intentions. I must make a stand. I must speak. I must propose... 

Darling, this time spent with you has changed my life. I choose to never want it to end. I love you. I love you more than I love myself. And I want to be with you for whatever I have left in this life. Will you take this walk with me and be my wife?.... 

Oh my...   You're in love with me? You want me to?  Me and you? Oh my...

I am so sorry. I truly am but I could never love.... You... What I mean to say is, I can't marry you. Please don't take it personal. It was never personal. 

The laughter much like the scent of roses, still lingers in the air long after the rose has passed.

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Wilbur the right brotha

Dammit!, I love it when a good toy comes together!  I flew the props off this bitch! I flew backwards without a hitch.  I raced up-and-down, down the street with cars and no one snitched. Is it any wonder why I love this shit! 

But one little girl. One little 4 year old and that's it. She got scared and wasn't having it. An't this some stuff. It seems she's had enough. 

But grandpa it hurts and I don't want to see it. 

My ears I can't believe to hear it! A four-year-old and one of the coolest toys of the year. And she's too scared even to see it.

But grandpa can we go home now?

Home? Home? With this thing the sky I can roam! The birds I can own. Like Top Gun I'll buzz the tower alone!

But grandpa I want ice cream.

You scream for ice cream while the skies I fly, what a dream. How could the fates be soo mean. A four-year-old with face soo clean. And not the desire to fly and dream. 

Grandpa I have to pee. 

Pee? Pee you say to me? Pee?, is that what I hear from thee? Sweet wings of flight this cannot be! Wouldn't you rather soar above the tree? 

Grandpa when is daddy coming? 

This is fun but I'm still undone by a mere four-year-old not an older one. Amelia Earhart would turn in her grave, too bad we don't know where that is, for this child we cannot save. 

Grandpa I want to watch TV. 

TV, believe me I'm dying inside. TV versus a drone my disappointment I can't hide. If I were her age the control I would own. I would buzz every flying bird and curse the dastardly kurds! 

Grandpa it's cold when are we going home? 

I know when I'm licked. This kid's got no kick. Good thing she's cute. Or I'd give her the boot! But there must be an adapter or at least there's an app. To get your grand kids to love things like that. Let's hope she doesn't grow up like her mother. Till then I'll just be Wilbur the right brotha...

Yes I still love her. She's too cute not to. Besides I blame her Dad...

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I've been in love a time or two. But I've only been in deep love once. It changes you. It never leaves you. At once you see it all. You embrace it and you fall into it. 

You get lost in it. But you're never more sure of where you're going. No one has ever or will ever go to the part of the universe your soul is destined to travel to.  Pushed on faster than light at the power of your heart. 

Much like swimming, we've all been in a pool. But deep love is like a journey into the Mariana trench. Few have made the journey to the bottom. And even fewer have survived a trip back to the top. But then again why would they want to? The wonders there are indescribable to those who swim in a pool. 

It is better to have never known love at all than to have loved and lost. To have it said any other way is mere poetry...

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Old king Cole was a merry old soul and a merry old soul was he. But he smoked on the pipe and he beat his wife. And in his pants did pee. 

Round and round the Mull Berry Bush the monkey chased the weasel. But as time waned the monkey sick of the game, pulled out a gun and aimed. Then Pop!, there goes the weasel! 

I will not eat green eggs and ham. I'd rather eat spam, Sam, dam. 

The humpty dance is your chance to do the hump. But if you can't do it, all the king's horses and all the king's men won't be able to help your ass up again. 

Here comes Peter chasing tail. Hopping down Bunnies trail. Hippity, hoppity sex is not for sale. 

Hey diddle diddle the cat and the fiddle. The dish ran away with the spoon. That round plate left me for a spoon?! A spoon! I hope she gets forked! 

This little piggy went to market. This little piggy stayed home. This little piggy went wee wee wee all the way home. OK I guess where fat shaming again. 

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. I just wish you'd shut your hole 

Jack sprat could eat no fat. His wife could eat no lean. But neither one had a job so what the hell does that mean. 

When you wish upon a star your dreams come true. Bullshit! Holly Berry nor Toni Braxton have shown up yet! 

Little Ms Muffet sat on a tuffet. Yeah we all have to sit some day. Along came a spider, sat down beside her and said. Would you like to get stuck in my web today?  Spiders have all the silky lines. 

OK now go to bed and if you tell your mother any of the stories I told you tonight it won't just be a monster locked in your closet tomorrow night!

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Pull the ripcord on your dignity. Hit the eject button on your moralities. Blow the ballast tanks of your restraint. This thing is coming apart so party hearty until the fat lady sings. 

Pull the trigger on your dreams. Pull the lever on mercy. Trip the trapdoor on salvation. This thing is going down now and there will be no tomorrow. 

Go get your vaccination. Then on the next day get it again because it won't inoculate you. Ware triple mask in stay 14' away and below sea level.  This thing is going to happen. 

Check your clocks and set your alarms. There'll be no late appointments. No 2nd chances. No amnesties. No bailouts. No stimulus checks. 

Baby there aint no safety net. No fail safe. No parachute and no alternate. There's no spare tire for this one. No stunt double and this is not a simulation. 

It's too late for a dry run. A practice go. A free shot. A complimentary try.  A warm up run. Trial period. Grace period. 

This is it. The crowd is waiting. The clock has ticked. The starter gun has gone off.  The camera is running. The seats have been taken. The curtain is up. The director has yelled action! 

There's no last lesson to learn. This is now all up to you. This is what you haven't been trained for. This is what you have yearned for.

Get ready. 

Get set. 

Live!!!

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Darkness the final frontier. 

These are  voyages of the U.A.ss Whatthefucken ship.

Its 5 year mission to stumble through the  known places in a life. 

To seek out new life, new ways not to pay a light bill.

To seek out civilizations and lifeforms that can no longer see their fingers in front of their very noses.

For this crew, this trek into darkness, to find without light, a shred of evidence of intelligence... 

To boldly go where no man has gone without light before. 

This is the Captain speaking. All hands!

Shut out that light!!!

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Yes, I Am

What of this talk of am? Am I not still high born child of God? I am the word speaker! I am the terror that drives in the night! 

And to what business are you? Night reader sheet holder. Dictionary checker sweet dream taker! Curse you! Curse you to the dark places that you slink away and read! 

What I write, I create, I see, and I make out of the ether. I am uncopied and unrepeated.  I am undefinable. I am unique in the fact that the words I placed together are new. 

What hole have you found company in? Surely in your associations you've found like minds to which you can pat yourselves on the back as being creative. 

I am the word speaker! I am the creator of narrative! I am the seer of possibilities. You see only what makes you comfortable what makes you superior. I see what is. I see what love. I see what hate. I see both the understood and the mystery. Do you truly see at all? 

Don't curse the ink or the paper with your disease. You do both injustice by the mere fact of sitting in front of them. Go back to the dark places you read in and read. You will not predict this ending. You will not feel fulfilled when you read it. You will not discuss it in the open. 

In my death I will match you word-for-word and still find strength to write novels. What is your definition of talented? What is your definition of a writer? No matter, I am. 

Find that you write with better spelling. Find that you write to more applause. Find that what you write is commercial and acceptable. Find yourself back in your hole and read with shame true creation. That which I am. 

For four hundreds upon four hundreds did I think. For 400 did I write.

I was. Now I am. This talk of am, stop it! 

For I Am

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These shorts much like the writer are all unfinished. They only speak to the loudest of points. They barely scratch the surface of what lies beneath.

To be continued? To celebrate 500th?  We shall see.....