All throughout these decisions are choices that people made through the summation of previous experiences in their apparent perceived lives. If you call this falling domino effect fate, then free will itself does not exist, and habits are the hardest of all to break. Habits are ingrained parts of a person’s psyche and where they seek comfort. In order to break someone’s habit you have to shatter their reality, and even then, that person might still end up right back where they started. The action does no more than put a bandage on a gaping laceration.

When does one person decide to help another? To what effect do they decide to help each other out?

Is the help out of pity? Then it is sympathetic in nature.
Is the help out of compassion? Then it is empathetic in nature.
Is the help out of regret? Then it is commiserative in nature.
Is there no help? Then it is apathetic in nature.

The more emotional vesting one person has in another, the more ‘caring’ they will show towards the person in need. What is this apparent cost of caring? Emotional vesting is directly proportionate to the distance two individuals have. These are distances in space and time. As the distance becomes greater the caring becomes less until caring becomes an afterthought requiring effort, which is an inconvenience to most. If you do not care effortlessly, then others call you insincere in your caring.

There is one decision that most people tend to overlook. That decision is when to stop caring if they started at all. Akin to coming out of a hangover, there is no gradient from one extreme to the other. One instant you sit there reeling in gut wrenching guilt, and the next you want to take on the world for all it is worth for new adventures.

This dividing line itself is a silent one, since you cannot seek it out; a silent hidden dividing line between empathy and apathy. When you cross it, all that you know is that you crossed it. Usually you realize you crossed it after the fact never pinpointing when or where you transversed the line. You will not even realize you accepted passing over the line into a new apparent situation. You will just come out on the other side in a different mood or outlook.

Until that time comes when you stop caring, just continue drifting. Drift far and wide for when you completely stop caring, you can start caring yet again. Emotional vesting is not a zero balance account. There is always a balance in there as you receive and give emotional stimuli. However, people set up different accounts and decide to give of themselves to those closest to them. Sadly, there is always a desire as a pack animal, for humans to give of themselves to strengthen the herd.

Fear those who pity you, for they look down upon your weakness.
Fear those who show regret, for they project their past onto you.

Respect those who know you and will not help you, they have their own issues to deal with.

Honor those that show compassion, because they are taking time out to help when they could be anywhere else doing anything else.

Sincelery,
Leo

“All those who will never know of my lust are all those that constantly feel my wrath.”

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Its arm with sinuous claw stretches out towards me, and touches my right shoulder before I had a chance to dodge out of the way. Its touch is warm compared to my coldness. Then with energy expended, the arm falls limp to the bamboo mat. The resounding thud, followed by the long drawn out exhale becomes the last sound from that side of the dim hue of the black-lit room.

The silence becomes deafening at this point as regret starts to take hold. Quickly silencing that bloody roar with classical music from the stereo, I reminisce on an evening unfulfilled. In retrospect, tonight chalks up to a poor decision, and nothing more. Irony is that the Noble and Sentimental Waltz from Maurice Ravel fills this room of the dead and the damned.

There will be the need for much explaining come late afternoon, since the dawn has already come. Odd, it would appear that this is now the screenplay for a situational romantic comedy. What went wrong? Habit or convenience? They will all sit around and wonder what went wrong; he seemed like such a nice boy. That is what they’ll say when he vanishes for a while. When he simply goes….

For now, the trusty trench coat will double as a blanket as I will sleep on the air mattress in the other half of the room. For my own protection, I remove the Katana from behind the pillow of the bamboo mat. What little good the Katana did me though. They offer not protection from home invasion, especially when you invite the marauders in.

I do not trust this one; I think I should hold the pair close to my chest while I sleep. A slight churning in my stomach starts to take hold as the room itself becomes dizzy.

Dizzy with a rising hatred from having compromised and succumbed to habit. Dizzy with a wrath gaining up from the bowels of my innards outwards towards the throat. The gag reflex starts to take hold as previously drinking salty tears and smelling flesh of soot and ash overcome the senses. Acid reflux fills my mouth as I force a swallow, one of the last bits of lucidity I remember from the evening. Convenience tastes a lot like bile at this point.

I managed to drink too much, and not enough all at the same time. Yes, I will probably wake up very enraged from this occurrence. Perhaps my dreams will calm me. However, tomorrow probably starts with waking up very angry. Was there any other outcome?

Sincelery,
Leo

• Whitesnake – All For Love
• Against the Wall – Nights of December
• Amorphis – Alone
• Runon Fragment – Misunderstood
• Scilter – Face of My Hero
• The Divine Madness – Crawl

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If given more emphasis the sighs and winces could become the wails of an opera singer, a black metal singer. Given more puissance, they could even shatter glass windows and frames. Given direction, they could share with the world misery and despair. In its current state, it just sits there on a bamboo mat shivering with skin barely clinging to its raw and ruby flesh. Upon closer inspection, I can see flexible cartilage where both flesh and muscle are no longer present. How much cannibalism has this one done on itself?

If it donned a heliotrope cloak complete with a pewter gothic ankh pendant, and directed the sorrow outward instead of inward then perhaps one would not see the gaping exposing wounds. Instead, it continues to tear away at itself as piles of sinew fall to the floor. The sobbing grows louder now. This situation might require a larger clean up in the future than originally anticipated. If it did don a heliotrope cloak then it would not be here to begin with. Such is irony.

The thought does cross my mind that if the sound of the quiet sobbing is soothing, what about the taste, and what about the smell? Would that quiet the impending river of doom? Would replacing the source for the patterns of the breath, the wince, and the sigh with something else better or worse? Trading sorrow for joy, albeit temporary joy might just be in order.

Cycling through the memories of smell the first that comes to mind is the taste of blood. It is always the first smell that pops into mind with its distinct rust iron color. Cycling past the first memory, I can recall exactly how this will play out if it continues. The flesh will taste of soot and ashes. The tears will resemble salt. The smell will be a combination of stale cigarettes, unkempt hair, and regurgitated alcohol. The experience will be an empty one, and I will not be any better off for it in the end.

A grimace and a smirk flash across my face on a single thought. Why break a bad routine at this point? This time it could be different. This time it could be different since this one will not be like all the others.

That thought is a great rationalization on false hope. This time will be different, because if all the inputs remain exactly the same then the output can be different regardless of what experience taught us. If you learn to recognize the patterns quickly then you can bring yourself to that inevitable end just the same. You can sit back and go along for the ride of your death. Take the guesswork out of the situation and just repeat the process repeatedly. You are a born natural at it now.

Each time you repeat the process you will get better at the systematic tasks. You will hone your skills, and before you know it, being in this situation will be second nature to you. Since it comes so easily, you might even seek comfort in the situation, be it right or wrong. Rinse, cycle, repeat.

That is when the false hope and rationalizations set in. It is what you are good at, so you might as well enjoy the fruits of your labor. It was exactly upon that thought that the apparent situation came back into focus. The tears did in fact taste salty, and this member of the walking dead did smell of soot and ash. Perhaps I just wanted to see through the eyes of this walking dead? At least that is what I will tell myself later as a rationalization.

Sincelery,
Leo

• Roughcast – We’re Back
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• Dinner With Cannibals – Whipping Boy
• Aiden – Moment
• The Fire Apes – Hey Kate
• No Days Off – This Time

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The desk becomes nothing more than a row of keys. With each keystroke, the beautiful hymns of destruction sound off in the distance.

The glowing flames have a black lit hue to them, and the ceilings emanate from their reflection. Crimson red wax melts ever so slowly onto the floor. Each click and tick of the board itself sounds a note in the scale of the Hungarian Minor. Am I preparing a fugue? In more ways than one, in more ways than one. Such is the incantation of protection from the pure and corruption of the innocent.

A voice starts to speak, “Come back to…,”
“What, the floor? There is great work to be done yet, and I am inspired to do it,” is the response that cuts off the first voice.

“I’ll be here when you…,”
“Yes, you will. You have no where else to go, and no way to get there.”

“Are you always this mean?”
“You are free to leave.”

“I have no where else to go.”
“And no way to get there. Yes, I know. I knew from the moment we met.”

Their voice starts to trail off in the distance as the expanse of the 13-foot long room grows to a thousand yards. Glancing back with a harsh glare, I can vaguely make out the thousand-yard stare, the one that does not hide the blank inner non-workings of the mind.

Usually people wear a mask to protect themselves, but like all masks they generally leave the eyes open to see. Sight works both ways as the predator and the prey have different ways of looking at items. As you look out, others look in.

The prey animal typically has eyes on either side of their head allowing for a wider range of sight. This is so the animal is constantly on the look out for things to run from, and places to hide in. The smaller prey animals are constantly watching out for danger.
They will shift their head about their surroundings constantly on the lookout.

The predator animal typically has eyes on the same side of their head, close together to work towards pinpointing a specific target and then striking at that target. When you focus, you squint your eyes further diminishing the field of vision towards your prey. The predator animals are constantly focusing intent and follow-through for the kill on one item.

When a predator squints, and shifts their eyes back and forth they are preparing to be danger. This shift lasts very briefly for they are about to make a choice. The wounded become easier targets for a trained predator allowing them to conserve energy. Know what to look for, and you know how to respond.

The blank empty human stare is a way of emulating a prey response from a wounded animal. They cannot run. Their eyes go wide, and their brain stops processing, and starts preparing to flee emotionally. It is almost as if the brain suffering from delirium decides to shut down instead of subjecting the individual to apparent danger. The brain will turn back on once the danger subsides. By then, it is usually far too late.

It looks like I have prepared two fugues this evening after all. Behind me, I hear the quiet sobbing of tears from a broken prey animal. Glancing back with a harsh glare I can clearly see fragments of the innocent chipping away. Preparations are almost complete as each keystroke the beautiful hymns of destruction sound off in the distance.

Sincelery,
Leo

• Fallsair – Forget You
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• They Fade in Silence – Heartache
• MD – Deep Impact
• 16Volt – The End of it All
• Specimen – Fatal Error

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• The Happy Endings – Get Around This
• The Bastard Fairies – We’re All Going to Hell
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• Warloose – Window
• Gidgets Ga Ga – Crime of the Century
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• Dolt – Silence
• Dirty Black Halo – Thanks for the Tragedy
• Downside – Eden’s Cry
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• Wil Deynes – Superwonderful
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• Maybridge – When in Rome – When in Rome
• The DSC Project – Gamma Omega Delta
• Karasoul – Emergency
• Pukrd Taint – Home

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Has the world turned its back on you, or just this group? Has everyone you have ever known and will even know become a fragment of the mind’s eye? Did you blink on purpose to shut your eye, or did you never possess the ability to open it? Can you forget your past?”

Perhaps that was too long of a response to give when the zombie said, “Wait, where are you going?” Then it started to scamper in my general direction. I could have kept walking, but since I had already turned around to check behind me, I decided to turn around and head back towards sanctuary. The mind rationalizes a lot, and then replaces fact with a skewed fiction. I did realize at the time, I would have to walk right past it shambling towards me. That would explain why I stuck my hand out to help it up off the ground.

The mist is very thick, and the fog has a sticky hue to it. Its hand was cold, but mine was colder. Its gaze was cold, but mine was colder.

Pizza always tastes better the day after you wanted it, more so than the day you actually want it. The absence is where the desire grows. In addition, we had already had a “moment.” Who is to deny that “moment” a chance to blossom into a lily, or a chaff of wheat ripe for the scythe.

I shall have a moment with pizza in the future, when sustenance is required as opposed to when wants take the place of needs. The needs say to retreat, the wants say to hunt. Why can’t one have it all? Just change the nature of the hunt to accommodate the retreat. This sounds simple enough.

Some call it settling, and others call it cutting losses, but there comes a time when one makes not the best decision, just the best available decision. This decision in the end always leads towards an empty feeling coupled with the driving nagging twinge of “what if.” That “what if,” gets louder and louder, especially if potential gains walk into the room.

However, chasing an ideal is just as dangerous as settling. If you chase an ideal, you may never find it, and nothing may be good enough either. The one who chases ideals is never grounded, and never complete. They might excel, but that is quite the cost.

Where does one compromise and meet in the middle? Where does one not settle, but not waste time chasing ideals? The answer lies in enjoying the here and the now while keeping the future in mind. Stay grounded, but gaze 45 degrees off into the horizon as opposed to straight up, or down at the ground. The answer lies in having an open mind.

That way you can see what is directly in front of you, and at the same time see what is off in the distance. Is this a compromise?

I guess you could say my fascination with death is the experience is one thing I will eventually have in common with every living thing.

Can you forget your past? Because it will surely forget you.

Sincelery,
Leo

• Aetherius – The New Way of Thinking
• Brookroyd Lane – Slip Trip and Fall
• Burn Theory – 24-7
• Fonic – White
• 36 Crazy Fists – We Gave it Hell
• Epic Turn – Disengaged

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• Jucifer – The Plastic Museum
• King’s X – Alright
• Midnight Reign – Breathe on Me
• Rough Roostars – Wake Up
• Uncrowned – Devil in My Hand
• Dream Theater – Forsaken

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These human sounds albeit inhumanely cut through the biting shrill wind. The zombies are about again. How close are they? Around this time in the evening all weekend warriors transmogrify and revert into zombies. Others fled before the perversion, but the result is the same whether or not they shamble aimlessly on the streets or in their mausoleums.

They cry the last bit of their humanity out onto the streets between episodes of bile and wash with regret. The all too familiar high-pitched quote of, “How could you?” startles me for a brief second. This one was close and I did not see them until it was too late. This phrase audible to me and one other person on the receiving end of a telephone. I know the phrase is not aimed at me, but the effect is still the same.

“How could you?” is a loaded question. It ranks up there with the short phrases such as, “We need to talk,” “You are going to be angry with me,” and the completely random, repeated, and yet unexpected, “I’m sorry.” All of these phrases instantly change the mood of any conversation to dread with uncomfortable silence. Saying them holds the power of an indirect Basilisk’s stare. Hence the problem.

“How could you?” means one of two possible things. The first and most plausible explanation is there is a pack of zombies near the horizon shambling to retrieve their lost member. It is so easy to lose a member of the pack in the mist when you are not paying attention, or do not want to pay attention. The night is over and it is time to retrieve all possessions and valuables left about town. In the first explanation, this person is nothing more than a possession such as a jacket, hat, purse, or Chap Stick.

Ignore them just long enough and they will break down from rigor and curl into some fetal position awaiting rescue. When rescue does not come, they will shoot up flairs from their digital pocket candy. The second and less likely explanation is this one is no longer welcome in the pack for whatever reason, and the herd culled them that night. They too, break down from rigor and curl into some fetal position awaiting rescue.

While the explanations are different, the intended results are the same. Their presence for whatever reason is not welcome. They are a lone sheep without a flock, lost, confused, and sad. The rescue is of the locate and extract variety, while the intended who is different.

It was then that a pair of bloodshot eyes matched stares with a pair of demented eyes. Later one would describe this episode as a “moment.”

From one there came sorrow, tears, and pain. From the other there came rage, disgust, and hatred. Yet these two people did not know each other, and probably never will.

It was then I asked a question I already knew the response to. I did not know the answer though; just how they would respond whether or not the truth was in those words only time would tell.

“When are they coming for you?”

“They’re not.”

The problem with this exchange is what comes next. I have two options to determine the truth. The first safe option is I shake my head, sigh, and walk off receiving a trailing, “Where are you going?” Then I would have to look back to make sure I am being followed. This answer means no one is coming. They want to leave.

The second safe option is I shake my head, sigh, and walk off receiving a trailing, “Wait.” Then I would have to look back to make sure I am not being followed. Others are soon coming. This one wants to stay put for their friends to find them.

The wrong option most people take is to walk closer and ask more questions. This Good Samaritan will probably meet the shambling herd in the distance coming in for the locate and retrieve. No amount of questions will give the quick truthful definite answer from the first two options. The shambling herd will not greet you with happy and pleasant exchanges either.

Before this zombie could say anything further, I simply shake my head, sigh, and turn to continue walking. After six steps, I hear a response, and that response starts with a W. This is a pointless exchange worthy of a chalk mark for an unimportant accomplishment. Number three for the running tally. I walk six more steps and then look back to make sure, just to make sure.

Sincelery,
Leo

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• Dead Celebrity Status – We Fall We Fall
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One cannot properly prepare for this frosty wind since they dress to impress, or they dress for their surroundings. If you are going to spend half an evening in a hot and sweaty dance floor, dressing for the walk out is the last thing on your mind. Even if you managed to bring a coat for that final walk, you probably lost it along the way through the course of the coarse malaise. If you did manage to dress warmly for the walk home, you spent most of the night sweating, and the sweat just makes the wind even colder. The alcohol makes the body think it is warmer, which makes a cool breeze, an artic blizzard. That alcohol effect would explain how one could be cold in Florida in the spring, or is it summer?

The irony of the situation is each night begins with emotional hopes and ends with physical pains. The two are unrelated to each other, hence the irony. One more fix in a string of short-term gains at the expense of long-term returns. The credo of the weekend warrior: Live in the here and the now, regardless of responsibility and repercussions.

They come seeking reckless abandon, and are invaders to the sanctity of the psyche. Their egotistical drive and desire to feed their insecurities push them forward. I sought reckless abandon one time, and in retrospect the failure was a success. A ten-second pause is all you need to avert disaster. Perhaps if I indulged more, then life would be different. Life would be different; it would have disaster in it.

It is a shame that they will get absolutely nothing done the next day, but recover. That is the long-term return for this evening, recovery. Perhaps in three days you will call that number you triumphantly sequestered. It is a shame that you do not remember their name.

Given ten more hours, you will forget what they look like too. Chances are they will forget they gave you their number, and you can try to get the number again next week. A lot of nothing accomplished, and nothing worth remembering happened tonight.

Ah, but those were glorious times are these you will say, leading to great memories, which unfortunately you will forget completely before you even make it home. You will instead have a cross between perceptions of what happened colored with your new mood for the walk.

Did you wear the right clothing? Did the right people notice you? Did you leave anything physical behind? Did you say the wrong thing, and did that person take note of it? Can you even tell this night a part from the one the week before? The month before? Rinse, cycle, repeat. All these questions are meaningless.

The whistling howl of the wind replaces the loud barrage of 85 plus decibel chatter, music, and beats from earlier. The person is out to find solace, familiarity, and the comfort of a warm place to drift off into a slumber land. This is also the time of the night that the semi-cognizant replay the events of the night over in their mind. This is a study on what went wrong and what went right.

In retrospect, what went wrong was I never did end up eating pizza after the bars closed on my way home. There is still time though, and it is time to turn back my collar to welcome the unknown. The rain stopped over an hour ago and pizza sounds very tasty in this drunken haze. I am in no rush to get home, still lacking a bed to sleep in. Might as well live in the here and the now with a fresh slice of gooey cheesy delight. Who knows whom I might run into on the way there, or the way back?

The rain might have stopped, but now the Florida early morning fog creeps closer in the distance. Weekend warriors transformed into zombies in the mist. What glorious times are these indeed, what glorious times indeed?

Sincelery,
Leo

• Local ProMo Voice

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• The Eric St-Cyr Band – You Were My Favourite
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