Simmering lights of the city skyline offer a cold slice of peace. It’s a strange substance that seeps slowly but surely across heavy eyelids, teasing sleep, but squeezing out every last drop of sanity, and replacing it instead with violent subtleties. A less than simple soliloquy to the audience of myself substitutes as a lullaby as I enter a nightmarish dream sequence. This falling asleep is really the waking up again to the realities of my life.
Usually is such a strange word, but one we’re so used to that we usually never notice. What is so common or customary about a thing that deems itself as the usual? And what defines common, or customary anyway? Usually is a loose word, often thrown over concepts with its ends trailing like baggy clothes. It is perhaps ambiguous at best, because its utterance has no signified mention of the last time the qualifying traits of usually occurred. Usually is a vague lie, sprinkled with a half-promise of truth. Usually has given wake to nations, or perhaps notions, of believers.
He moved closer to her, reached for her hand and slipped the ring on her finger (like he practiced), all the while wearing an almost apologetic face for having done so. He could feel cold sweat beginning to creep down the back of his legs and calves (he hated that). He personally preferred drowning from feeling the anxiety he felt. He looked scared (of her words), she looked bewildered (because of his actions). Their eyes met briefly, but something was wrong (everything was wrong). The air was stale (it was cold) and suddenly (he thought he was dreaming) she took the ring off (almost angrily) and shoved it back into his hand (definitely angrily) and walked back down the trail. He stood there (unable to look back at her walking away) just stood there (“It’s like trying to get rid of hiccups” his dad used to tell him during their lessons at the local recreation center) feeling defeated. He felt as if she had (well she might as well) pushed him right off the edge of that cliff. But she didn’t (why wouldn’t she?). It was done (they were over) and he had made up his mind (finally) and regained control of his legs again. Walking forward (he did it), he closed his eyes (au revoir) and held his breath (like his dad taught him).
Black leather skin woman and yellow spandex man. He sat at the table in the lounge eating his breakfast like a hungry child. She came and sat in front of him, saying, “Now, you’re a handsome man!” and in response, he began waving and flailing his hands and fingers in all different styles. He tapped on his forehead and drew mystic shapes in the air, a sort of magic the leather skin was not exactly knowledged in. Though she did hear of other folk like this silent magician. She nodded at his gestures, probably thinking, “I’m sorry Mister, but I don’t speak, sign,” but being too kind to say so out loud. So she sat there, as did he, occasionally throwing a magic spell of signs her way, and she would absorb them and return her own, more simple magic of a smile. So much was said between them at that table, without a word being spoken at all.
call me major inconvenience (man)
my super power consists of inconveniencing people
in the most inconvenient ways imaginable
Welcome to the inconvenience store
How may I be of disservice to you today?
What’s that? Broken promises you say?
I have a fresh stock of those
and disappointment? I have a whole
shelf of those, right this way
Oh yes, of course, say no more
I have a whole section on failure, too
I’ve got you covered, not to worry
Lies? Got tons, get one and second is free
I’ve also got a whole aisle of pretenses
if you’re interested
Ah! Insults! I’ve got a wide variety of those
Do you want mild to severe in hurtfulness?
Just let me know
I got what you need right here
And please do come back
I appreciate your business