Through the Black

 

Although I don’t recall what my exact age was, I was very young when I figured out that I wasn’t afraid of the dark. Coming nose to nose with a prowler probably helped some I suppose, I was alone at night I was 13 I believe, I just pulled back the curtains and there he was, I think I scared him worse than he scared me, he ran without incident. I don’t recall ever being terrified of being alone at night. So what is it about that special time when the sun goes down that make some people get so freaked out? Perhaps it is indeed that same feeling as swimming out in the middle of the ocean and not knowing what big nasty shark might be swimming up behind you to have you for a snack. It makes people uncomfortable, not knowing, not seeing, wandering around in a black hole with no light to illuminate your path. Not knowing what is making that strange noise in the distance that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. Is it an animal? Is it human? A man? A woman? Or perhaps it is something that hasn’t been encountered before, and you are about to be the first person ever to see it in all of its true hideous glory.

The truth when you are able to rationalize it, and see it, and clearly think about it is quite simple, actually. When it comes to nightfall, when it comes to the dark, there is actually very little in it that isn’t there during the day. And the biggest fuel source that your own fears of it have, is your own imagination. Some animals are just nocturnal, animals such as say, bats, owls, possums, skunks, badgers, ,raccoon’s and deer, and of course your standards like. vampires, werewolves, zombies, toads, and of course the Frankenstein Monster, and the ghost of Jack The Ripper. Toss in a few ghouls and a couple of axe murderer’s, and you could have quite a night of it. People can learn to rely too much on what they can and can’t see, and the end result of it can cause quite a bit of paranoia. Just in case, do the following if it helps you to sleep better at night. Make sure that you check your outside porch lights regularly, make sure you have several working flashlights and candles handy just in case the power goes out in the middle of that dark and stormy night coming up. And just remember that it is more likely than not, that the most dangerous monster creeping around in your backyard at night is in reality quite human, or no more or less than the product of your own imagination.

Attention:Walmart Shoppers!

I would usually hear the voices whenever I was in the throes of impulse shopping whilst in one of those super Walmart's or in any one of the local grocery stores. Oh sure, I always made a list. But c’mon, nobody ever sticks to those things. I would write shit like, “ok. I need toilet paper, paper towels, shaving cream, uhmmmm. Razors and a rotisserie chicken for dinner. Sure, that’s what was SUPPOSED to happen, but of course it never did. Once inside the door, those damn voice’s would take over. “Ok now. I’m just here to buy a new pair of Jeans and some sweat socks!” yeah, right, sweat socks. Try as I may, I could never truly totally avoid the food aisles. The P.A. speakers would crackle to life with something like. “Attention Walmart Shoppers. Green Beans on sale now in the produce section. 3 lbs for a dollar.”

Of course what they said over the P.A. and what I actually heard were two totally different things, I would hear something totally different like: “Attention Walmart Shoppers! Come to the food section. We have Chocolate. We have Peanut butter covered in Chocolate. We have Peanut butter thingy’s covered in chocolate with coconut sprinkles! We have Dove Ice cream bars! (Also covered in not just chocolate, but Triple thick chocolate.!) Come one! Come all! To the super-duper Walmart mega Chocolate Sale! While supplies last!”

yeah, yeah, yeah. They knew they had me at ‘Attention Walmart shoppers.’ I always tried to fight them, you know?, but the damn voices, they wouldn’t leave me be. “I’m not going over there! Dammit! I’m not gonna do it! Damn you all to hell! .” so I would push my cart (Slowly) in the opposite direction. “Gee. I wonder what new DVDs they have on sale this week?” that was about the time when the voices would take over.

“HEEEEY! Where ya goin dumb ass? The Chocolate is over there! That Way! Yeah, over there!”

I tried desperately to ignore them, but to no avail.

Almost involuntarily, my cart would slowly change directions even as I tried to deny the impulse to go take a look, “Over There.”

“Jeans… Uhh. Shaving cream… Sweat socks uhh. Didn’t they say something about fresh green beans? Oh, I love fresh green beans. Maybe I should just swing by the produce section for a quick peek.”

Oh, sure. I really did want to go check out the green beans, but always seemed to enter the grocery section of the Walmart super center right at the freezers. Right where they kept the triple thick chocolate covered Dove Ice cream bars along with a colorful array of other sugar-coated delights that are intended to make you sit in one place and vibrate for an hour or so, immediately after consumption.

I always made it to the register, but the many detours along the way to what I really came to the store to buy were costly. “Lets see here. I have a pair of blue jeans. (Three boxes of triple thick chocolate covered Dove ice cream bars.) I have four pairs of sweat socks. (Two bags of Reese’s pieces.) and some after shave lotion and shaving cream. (Four bags of bite sized Kit Kat Bars. With a two liter bottle of Hershey’s syrup for dipping.) ok, ok, so I may be slightly exaggerating here, and maybe my sugar addiction wasn’t quite that severe. But at any rate I am slowly showing signs of over all improvement, I don’t sit and vibrate anymore, and when I get up out of my chair I don’t bounce my head off of the ceiling anymore.

The nervous twitches have somewhat subsided. So its under control, but I fear however that an entirely new problem may exist, to take my mind off of my sugar problem I have begun eating these strange little cracker things that one of my friend’s gave me, and the other night I was laying on the sofa watching television, and a strange impulse took control over me. I tried to lift my right leg over my head to scratch behind my ears with my toes, and fell off of the couch, dead on my ass. I think the little bastard may have slipped me some dog biscuits. If this keeps up, I may go have to go back to Dove bars.

~Scratch~

Blood, Love And Chocolate. (A Twisted Love story.)

Many times in his still reasonably young life, Henry P Higglebum has tried to embrace the most wretched of holidays on the human calendar, the one day that made womankind glow to the point of erupting into a super nova. V Day for women, D-Day for men, Henry thought. Why couldn’t he get it right? Why didn’t he get it period? His Girlfriend Imogene got it. His mother got it. His sister got it too. Hell, even his cat Freckles seemed to get it. But Henry? Nooo not Henry P Higglebum, see poor Henry was afflicted with the disease that every man who had the unfortunate fate of being just like him suffered from, you see Henry not only had the man disease called Dumbassitis, but in Henry’s case it was terminal. He had it ten years ago when he had first seen his lady love Imogene, and every year since, the disease seemed to intensify. Last year it struck just two hours before Valentine's Day, all of Imogene’s plots to aid in the blessing of receiving the perfect gift from Henry went completely unnoticed, the Dumbassitis had all but taken complete control of poor poor Henry. In fact, he didn’t even realize that the dreaded Valentine's Day was even upon him until it was far too late. Completely oblivious to the dire fate that once again awaited him, Henry wandered aimlessly through the isles of Walmart, his mind drawing a total blank until finally the veil of darkness had lifted, leaving him in a fit of utter panic.

He began to hurry up one aisle and down the next, a cold sweat oozed from his pores, one hour passed, then two, then three. Until he had arrived at the point where he could no longer stand the pressure and decided to buy Imogene, the first thing that he’d thought of. It was not only ‘the perfect Valentine's Day gift’ it HAD to be the perfect gift. Then half dead flowers from the local Quickie Mart, followed closely by a box of semi stale Chocolates. Followed even more closely by a heartfelt “Happy Valentine's Day Honey!!” and the very next day having to face the utter humiliation of having to explain to all of his friend just exactly how he got a powder blue and hot pink weed whacker stuck up his hind parts and why he needed help to pull it out. That however was last year and this was this year. THIS year Henry P Higglebum was a man on a mission, THIS year he had been doing his homework. This year he had made reservations at that swanky new French restaurant Ma Cherie, he had gone shopping and found a perfect pair of diamond earrings, he had even arranged for a bouquet of long stemmed roses wrapped in delicate paper to be delivered to their table during dinner.

The fateful night had arrived and Henry, adorned in a new suit and tie, wearing just the slightest splash of Aqua Velva, showed up at Imogene’s door with a box of Chocolates. Holding out his arm, he led his beloved Imogene to his pickup truck and drove them to the restaurant where they would share a perfect Valentine's Day romantic candlelit dinner. This was however still Henry P Higglebum, and perfect was not yet a word that seemed to fit him in the least. After they had been seated, the kid that was delivering the flowers almost took them to the wrong table, causing an agitated Henry to snatch them from his hand, which he brushed a little too close to one of the lit candles from the candle lit dinner, causing the paper that was wrapped around the bottom of the flowers to ignite into flames, causing Henry to panic and knock over the other candle which ignited the white linen table cloth catching it on fire which immediately caught the attention of not one, but two slightly overzealous waiters who each threw an entire pitcher of water on the flames which completely ruined the dinner, which caused a completely stunned and humiliated and more than slightly pissed off Imogene to storm from the restaurant leaving behind a fumbling Henry P Higglebum who was frantically searching in his pockets for the diamond earrings in hopes of salvaging yet another horrible Valentine's Day only to finally realize that he’d left them in his other coat at home. Causing Henry to go to a bar alone, which caused him to get blind stinking drunk, which caused him to realize that maybe he should have bought her another weed whacker instead, and Maybe, just maybe this time he would have gotten REALLY lucky, and Imogene would have killed him with it.

~Scratch A.B.T Copyright © 2009~

Blogging in The Midnight Hour...

 (A Blast from the past from Blogstream 2007.)

So I’m sitting here in front of this screen again, and it's well past the eleven o’clock hour. The TV is going. I’m listening to tunes bustin down a pot of Starbucks, and I’m bored as hell, wondering who’s sneaking around inside this little gray box of mine. And right when I’m thinking this, some guy comes on TV talkin about internet addiction and its damning effects on the human psyche. He said, as I recall, that forming bonds with people that we don’t actually know via the internet, is a dangerous game, in the sense that we build for ourselves a false sense of security thinking that we can actually trust the other person at the other end of this little rainbow of ours. And that we might actually give out sensitive information about ourselves to people that we don’t really know. and he even threw out the word Blog as I recall. 

Well, some of that may be a genuine concern I suppose, if someone were actually that stupid to give out sensitive information to a complete stranger. Hell I know That I don’t live around any of the people on the Blogstream, and I also know what I can and can’t tell people, but that doesn’t mean that I need to totally abandon all sense of trust that I have developed here in the past two years with certain individuals. This is where I come to let off steam. This is where I come to create. To think. To find other people who are sitting in front of their little gray boxes, wondering if they’ve revealed too much to the person at the other end of the rainbow. Here I know where the line is, I know it top to the bottom, and I don’t cross it. ever. 

So with that little part of me that remains tucked safely away and out of reach, here I come. Spirit flying. Wings spread and eyes wide open… Looking for god only knows what. Love? Life? Laughter? Or perhaps it's the pursuit of some twisted happiness that I can’t quite get my hands around in the physical realm. What’s the rub of this place? Is it magic? Doubtful. Is it metaphysical?  Probably not. So what then? What keeps bringing me and countless others back to this place. Every day or so… Starting all over again at the very top. The very beginning, staring at a blank page waiting for the words to magically present themselves in the form of a post. What is it?

Well, it has occurred to me that it may very well be an addiction, but perhaps not under the definition that some people might become accustomed to. Ok now, speaking from my own observations of other people here on the Stream as well as my own behavior, I think that perhaps the most amazing thing about the internet, As a whole, the Blogstream not withstanding, is that it allows the traveler here, the suspension of disbelief. Here, you can do practically anything that you wish. Here you can express yourself, with all of your anger. With all of your love. With as much passion or lack thereof as your real life may reflect. Here we can be Dragons. Tigers. Cats. Anything your imagination will allow... 

I have known Pranksters here, Icemen, trainmen, sea captains and amazing women that I might never have known otherwise, yes I have experienced magic here, and even shared in some of that suspension of disbelief, if only for a second, and allowed it to carry me away from this physical place. Yes the internet, more importantly the Blogstream, has been a wonderful over all experience for me, and other like-minded individuals. The Internet? Yes, it has its allure… But as with anything else, there are shadows here. Where the monsters of the real world come to hide in. Do not think that bad things cannot happen to you here… Oh, yes anon. there be treachery afoot! The smartest thing, perhaps the most important thing about this place to remember is, regardless of the level of fantasy that you choose to engage in, regardless of how safe that you think you are. The consequences of your actions here, can be, and most often are, very real. 

~Scratch~

We're All Mad Here.

I knew a guy once, well that isn't exactly true, he was an acquaintance of a friend of mine. Everyone, it seemed-knew about him, except me. Dude, whom I'll call Marvin- it seemed, was a tad touched in the head and everyone avoided him like he had cooties because of it. Well-everyone except me, I was always a little curious about his odd behavior and I used to catch myself studying him from a distance. He was constantly talking to himself, about god only knows what, and when he did engage in conversation with other people it quickly escalated into a full-blown argument without provocation of any kind. even in passing, no matter what the subject, Marvin could become combative at the drop of a hat. He disappeared one day, seemingly just dropping off the face of the Earth, I never did find out what happened to him. Marvin was a lunatic, a touch insane, but no matter his mental state, at his core-he could still be considered a decent enough guy. IF HE LIKED YOU.

This morning I was bouncing around on another blog site reading a few blogs here and there, some had a familiar feeling to them. I couldn't put my finger on it this morning, but when I came back on last evening, the thought of Marvin just popped in my head. most blog sites-so it would seem, have a few Marvin's here. People that just seem to live to argue with everyone around them, Over politics, over religion, over whatever comes up I suppose. I do it myself from time to time, although to my best recollection I've never had any serious provocation's on TS or the other blog site. I have been in an argument or two here and there, but there are those, it would seem, that could start an argument in an empty elevator. And what I find particularly funny is they argue over the same shit day in day out, over and over again, never reaching any reasonable conclusions. I suppose I'm just as crazy as they are because I have read such blogs- (especially the comment sections) more than once. Albert Einstein once defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results. I suppose, to some degree, we are all mad here.

My hatred for Facepuke is Growing.

Sometimes you just can't help but throw up a rage post, on social media, on a blogging site, sometimes it is something that is way beyond your control. To me, social media sites are the absolute worst ones to post on, sites like Facebook are at the top of the list, there used to be a feature on there called notes, I liked it, it almost made that shitty fucking site tolerable, I used it to post long form writing and those pukes that run that shithole took it away because it was too much like blogging. they promote short videos, short posts, mindless bullshit and half the time you struggle just to post a little bit of text with a photo. I get more meaningful interaction on X or Instagram than I do on Facefuck. I'll never give up blogging, no matter who does or doesn't interact here. I will continue to maintain some of my friendships there, but Facebook for me is on seriously thin ice.