I'm on your side, but only for awhile

NOTE: Found this written down on a page in my old math book. Must have wrote this freshman year. I dig it.

Crawling away
Bawling away
Smalling away?

Biggie Smalling away?
Excuse me, what I meant to say was;
Above ground pools suck, that weird farting hum they make all day annoys me
Alot of things annoy me, I'm a tiny angry ant in a giant cosmos of hate
I wish I could melt people with eye beams
I wish there was a button on my watch that made cum. I'd press it whenever I got mad.
It would save alot of lives. It save alot of money.
I remember when I could of kissed you, but I was nervous.
Then I got drunk and fell asleep.
I wake up at noon everyday, in this small room.
Tall groom.
Big Shroom
Whats up with all this rhyming?

Your name is an onomatopoeia.
I want to smoke cigarettes on the balcony.

The sounds you hear at night when you lay in bed.

There are memories we have from when we were kids that are so hazy or bizarre or horrifying that it’s hard to say if they ever happened at all. The brain has a funny way of dealing with trauma, it will essentially lie to itself, the same way it does with paranoia and love, the brain will swear to itself, like a man on trial, that things we remember we in fact don’t remember. It buries memories so deep that they surface in flashes, like clips from an old movie you weren’t supposed to watch. A face, a room, a spilled cup of red drink all over a white carpet, or in this case, a southern lake right before the sun goes down. The older I get the more indistinguishable hours stretch between me and that lake, and that man, and that smell. The older I get the futhurer away the things that happened on that day crawl from me. I’ve always known what I saw was real, despite the frantic efforts of mind trying it erase it. But the older I get, the more life that sprawls out around me, the more I begin to doubt my eyes, the more I doubt that jolt I get when I hear the sounds that only ring out at night when the lights are off. So I’ll say it now, with conviction and assurance while I’m still able too, I saw the devil when I was 7 years old by a river in Louisiana.
Like I said, the details of my meeting with Satan are hazy. The location was most defiantly a river, I remember the sun setting, turning the water into that gold color you see in paintings in the lobbies of hotels. I asked my Grandma a few years back was there any lakes by her old house in Bogalusa, Louisiana and she told me that me and my grandfather would go fishing at Jennings lake about a mile away from their home. I’m sure that there must have been a river somewhere thou, because I remember a current traveling to the east carrying an old tire. I wasn’t with my grandfather either, I was alone. I don’t remember much of my grandfather except that he had a perfectly grey mustache on a perfectly brown face and that he was very nice man, better than I guess he could have been seeing as thou he wasn’t my biological grandfather.
Yeah, I was alone and the sun was going down. I sat on the ridge of the lake or river. I could see the other side of the water, tall grass and dirt roads. Dragonflies hovered around, sporadically going from cat tail to cat tail, settling then disappearing.
I was enjoying the smells. Fresh water has that dirty scent, The kind of dirty one can over look because the same grime that makes it stink is the same scent that sticks on your clothes and makes people think you had worked hard. The breeze rolled over me every so often, like it was reminding me that it hadn’t forgot me. My fingernails were dirty and I might have been wearing sandals because I remember an ant crawling on my toes, although that could be from another memory. When you’re a kid you don’t seem to mind the weather much, but I do know that the temperature couldn’t have been over 80. My fishing pole rested against a tree a few yards away. I didn’t like fishing, I didn’t like touching worms, and I hated when ants crawled on my open toes.
How long I was there before I saw him is lost in my subconscious but I don’t know that I wasn’t five minutes away from packing up and continuing the walk back. I twitched at first, my neck jerked to the left and for a microsecond I felt sadder than I’d ever felt. A minute passed and an aggressive wind blew. A gust that seemed angry, not at me, but at itself. A guilty wind, guilty for what it was carrying. There are those times in our life where we are sucked out of our heads and we a given permission to view ourselves as instances happen. Usually in these out of bodies experiences we seem to be on autopilot, everything happening at a reflex, but for about 30 seconds I could see myself. Long enough to ration that is was an out of body experience and that something was wrong. I felt my mouth drop open and I saw it first hand as if I was sitting next to my body doing it, those seconds seemed an hour and a became doubtful of my own existence. My view of myself began to fade and I was being dragged of the ground and into sky, across the water, my body looked up from the ridge and as I extended my hand towards it extended it’s hand toward me. There was a little less than a half mile of air between me and my body. I was sweating and panicking and about to scream when I heard.
‘Hello there little boy.’ I was back in my body, back on the ridge. But after hearing that voice, that even toned almost singing voice, I wished to every God I could have just kept floating into clouds. I looked to my left and there was figure walking toward me, dressed in church clothes. He face seemed to change forms completely about three time before he got close enough for me to make it out, as if the devil was searching for the perfect face to scare me with. And as he closer he seemed to grow unnaturally tall, as if he was adjusting his height. Soon he was right next to me looking down and smiling the way a stranger does when they hold the door open for you.
‘I said hello, have you no manners?’ He said still smiling. He wore black slacks and a white shirt with the first two buttons undone. His hair was wiry and silver and he had grey stubble. He had deep blue eyes, almost like at one point they had been very bright.
‘Oh now don’t be rude boy.’ He sang. ‘You’ll hurt my feelings’ He rose his hand and I flinched. He grabs his heart and frown, the corner of lips went so far down it scared me.
‘Hi, who are you?’ The words rushed out of my mouth.
‘Who am I?’ He laughed “Who am I? What a question to ask. There is no possible way I can answer that.’
He takes his hand and run it through his hair as he looks up into the sky with a smirk still lingering on his long pale face. ‘ You can ask what I am, even when I am. And if you’re particularly brave you can ask me who I’ve been. But who I AM? Oh no no no, I can’t tell you that my boy. In fact, who are you? Hmmm, can you answer that? HmmmmMMMmmm?’
‘I’m Adam’ I stuttered a lot when I was younger so I wasn’t very talkative for fear of stumbling on my words and looking foolish. But around this man my voice seemed clear and full of a certain spirit that, if used on anyone else, would have been quite impressive.
‘Oh well I knowWWww all that. I mean who are you, inside.
‘I don’t get it.’
‘I mean who are you when are angry? Who are you when you are alone in your head where no one can hear or see the things you want to do? Who are you when you can get away with it? You see people are just persons in public, they fearRRrrRR the judgment and persecution from the very people that in their dreams they murder and steal and covet. Things aren’t like they were Adam, things aren’t like they will be.’ He laughs and asks me again ‘Who are you, on the inside?’
‘I..don’t know.’
‘Well,’ he knells in front of me and I smell burning paper on his skin and clothes. ‘Maybe I should cut you open and rip your guts out the see who you are inside.’ He has razor teeth and a snake’s tongue, and I picture myself in a puddle of dirt dried blood on the river bank with my stomach and spleen and lungs and intestines and kidneys on the ground. I’m coughing blood the man is rolling on the ground in tear he is laughing so hard.
‘Please don’t.’ I start to cry.
‘I suppose that would be rude.’ He looks disappointed then looks at the lake and smiles. ‘Say boy is that your fishing rod?’
I turn around to the tree its resting on and it isn’t there, my head whips around and he has it in his hands, standing over the lake.
‘I’m going to go.’ I say, but I know he won’t let me.
‘Not yet AdammMMMmm. I want to send you home with a delicious diner.’ He looks intent at the water. ‘ Oh he’s deep down there, this my take some time.’ He laughs as he reels something up. I finally get to my feet and begin to back away. He yanks at the pole and a bloated blue corpse emerges out of the water and flops on the bank. The body has large patches of hair missing. It eyes are shut likes it in a deep sleep, but its mouth is open, the lips seems to be dissolving slowly. It smells like ground beef when its left in the sun.
‘How appetizing’ He laughs loudly and the grass around us starts to die, I start running. Fast. So fast it hurt, my feet crash against the ground. I look back and he is laughing, doubled over clinching his gut. I’m crying and the wind is blowing at my back, trying to help me. I turn around again and he is dancing with the body. I get further, but the laughing is still in my ears. I look back a final time and his figure has changed, he is no longer the slender man in the sacks, he is now a 12 foot tall beast with the legs of a pig and antlers, not horns but deer antlers that sprout out in every direction.
It’s hard to say what happens next. I know I didn’t tell my grandfather of grandmother because for some reason once I saw the blue wood panel of their house I felt a divine safety. I knew they wouldn’t believe me, I really didn’t believe me, My brain has veiled the run lead me or the events of the next few days. But I do know that I was scolded for loosing the fishing pole and when my grandfather and I went to go try to find it the next day there were large burn marks in the grass and on the walk back home my grandfather made me walk in front of him and he looked back every few yards with his fist clinched.

She's up in that tree, where she'll always be,

“Oh, Christ.” Josh groans as he looks across the table to his sobbing cousin.
“What the…come on dude. People are staring over here.” Adrian whispers to Duy before skillfully grabbing his coffee cup with his fingertips to avoid the hot surface of the mug on his palms. He raises the cup to his puckered lips and slurps the drink cautiously while he surveys the diner and patrons. Duy’s eyes are watering , he is Vietnamese so the crease of his eyelids push the tears out quicker. They fall at rhythmic pace, like a metronome slowed to half speed. Tears hit his plate, his hash browns and omelet now salty from the falling tears. As if they were cooked by a recently divorced chef listening to The Cure.
“This is terrible. I’ll never be happy again. How could I be?” Duy’s head hangs as low as his neck will allow it, he holds his fork in one hand and his knife in the other, a napkin is bunched in his shirt collar haphazardly. He sniffles and pants. He is a wreck and the saddest part is that he is trying his very hardest to hold back the real onslaught.
“You’re being a real Debbie downer right about now, let me just say.” Adrians says while he dabs the corners of his mouth in a demure fashion with a napkin and leaning back to rest his head on the booth. ‘A real freaking Buzz kill.’
“Adrian, lay off.” Josh looks at Adrian with shaking his head feigning disdain.
“What? I mean, am I wrong? Look at him he’s crying like a fat girl with no prom date. ‘I’m too fat to fit in my dress mom, I might as well wear a boat tarp’. Adrian sours his face and mocks Duy.
‘You’re a jerk dude.’ Josh spoons soup in his mouth.
“Besides, when Asian people cry it freaks me out, you guys get all red and puffy. Like tomatoes. Giant suicidal tomatoes.” Adrian continues.
“Enough, Adrian. Knock it off or I swear to God I’ll get in the car and leave your ass here.” Josh peers at Adrian from the corner of his eyes, but that all that is needed to surcease Adrian’s maundering. For a few moments the boys are quite, the scrapings and dingings of the kitchen are the only sounds floating around Gina’s 24 hour diner and grill. The boys are in a part of town where everything is open 24 hours, hotels and department stores litter the area, the lights are always on, and prices are never fair. 2 hours earlier Duy dropped his now ex-girlfriend, Paulette, off at the airport. She is going to Arizona for school, Duy and Paulette had been together for only 6 months but Duy never had anything like her in his life. It was the love he’d seen on TV.
Duy finally had someone who’d hold his hand, someone who he could stare at and not creep out. In his car on the way to the airport with Paulette his thoughts ate him up, how lonely he’d be, how he wouldn’t have anyone to watch movies with, or anyone to sit with him when video games got to scary. The crushing realization of his impending loneliness in combination with the fact that Duy had never been a discerning attentive man led to him parking his blue 99’ Acura TL in a area of the lot clearly marked ‘employees only.’ After a somewhat brief but very much complete goodbye to Paulette, and a conniption fit in the bathroom that was cut short by two members of the late night airport staff entering the lavatory to perform perverse sexual acts on each other on the surprisingly well cleaned floor, he returns to the parking lot just in time to see his reliable old car being hoisted up and dragged out by a tow truck. The white of the truck drivers eyes match the white of his teeth and off sets the pulsating orange of his cigarette as he laughs while he drives with Duy’s car in tow, his back bumper scrapping and his ‘opps’ bumper sticker seemly mocking him. He then called his cousin, Joshua to pick him up from the airport. Joshua brought Adrian, long time friend, current roommate, and full time heel. Now they sit in a 2 star diner in the hotel district of Chicago at 2 a.m.
Duy’s barely touched his food, he claims its hard to eat on a brokenheart, Adrian says its even harder to masturbate while heartbroken. No one laughs. Snot drips from Duys nose and before it hits his lip Duy licks it up. Josh says the reason why he isn’t hungry is because he is full off booger. Everyone smiles.
“You know what’s the worst’ Duy slings his head back and looks directly at the ceiling fan above them that spins like a wounded animal runs, ‘ the worst part is that the last time we made love was in the car. I mean, how striped of intimacy is that? I could of done better. There’s tons of hotels around, I could of gotten us a room. ” Residual tears roll down Duy face and neck in no hurry as if they were taking the scenic route.
“Plus the room wouldn’t of been that expensive, I mean how much money can 5 minutes cost?” Adrian says while he stabs at the thin sliver of steak on his place and snickering self-servingly.
“We could have showered together, enjoyed a room that was souly ours for our last night together. And I settled for cowgirl in a cramped back seat. I’m such a screw up.” Duy sighs in a tone so bleak the deaf could hear.
“Duy, man you’re breaking my heart. Relax man, she’ll be back by this time next year. And it’ll be like you guys never missed a beat man. You just gotta be strong dude, be strong and..’ Josh is interrupted by the waitress.

“More Coffee boys? Oh my, whats the matter baby?” The heavy set women places a tender hand on Duy’s shoulder. He looks up at her, all red faced and puffy.
“The only girl. The girl I’ve ever met, in my whole life who didn’t mind holding my hand in public is on a plane to the dessert and for my last night with her, I humped her like a high school kid after homecoming in my car in the Midway airport parking lot. How insensitive? I am scum.” Duy eyes are glazed.
“Wait you fucked her in your car? The one that just got towed? Dude, that truck driver was probably watching. Maybe even jacked off. That’s fucked.” Adrian looks at Duy with disgusting oozing off his squared, brown face. The waitress’s concern turns to discomfort and she refills everyone’s coffee cup before disappearing.
“You can’t let this drag you down Duy. Cousin, remember when you lost your Pokemon cards at summer camp and you cried for like, a week straight?” Joshua asks Duy, who nods. “Yeah it sucked, you worked real hard to build an awesome deck. Put in the time to master it, learn every card. Most importantly you respected the cards while you had them.”
“Then I lost them, I got careless. It was my fault I forgot to get them before I got on the bus, they probably got stolen, then played with by some kid who didn’t nearly appreciate them as much as me. If only I would held on to them If only..” Duy says before heavly sobbing into the palm of his hands.
“This is the gayest….” Adrian shakes his head and eats his steak.
“If only what Duy? If you hadn’t of lost them then what? You’d still play with them now? You’d be a 21 year old pokemon card player?” Josh says before continuing with “I believe there is a force, a force of nature that moves things in our life for our well being. You lost those cards so you didn’t go around getting the ass kicked by Zach Zagorsk everyday of freshman year. Besides do you remember what happened the next month? Digimon came out, and you fell in love with them. A different type of love, but it still made you happy right? ”
“Yeah, but I still thought about all the cards I lost. My Charizard and Sychter and my Mew.”
“And that’s perfect. You were supposed to, you still remember those cards names which is..”
“Fucking gay” Adrian says almost desperately.
“WHICH, is amazing. It shows you care, that no matter how long its been. They still hold a place in your heart. But Digimon helped you get over Pokemon and when Digimon was gone it was Monster Rancher that satisfied your need for cute little Japanese monsters that killed each other.”
“But I never, liked them as much as I like Pokemon.”
“Because Pokemon were your first love, it will never be as fanatical as the first love. Or as sexy as the second, but don’t you still watch Monster Rancher.”
“I’ve got the whole series on DVD.”
“Exactly.”
The waitress shuffles nervously over to the table and places the check down before abruptly turning around and heading toward back toward the kitchen.
“She liked to walk barefoot, In the grass. She didn’t care about bugs or nothing. She climbed trees too. Better than I ever could. She never wore bright clothes, colorful but never bright. I loved her scent.”
“She’ll be back.” Adrian says, not making eye contact.
“What if it isn’t the same?”
“Then you’ll find Digimon.” Josh says grabbing the check.