A strange day

This is  taken from a novel I wrote and released in the summer. It is called, From Far Out There. It is a mess of a pretty good book. I regretfully edited it in a messy and very small kitchen of a house that I was crashing in located inside of a town I just ended up in after I had to get off the bus. Overall, it was a necessary step to take I think as a writer, and it’s a good read, and so on this numerical sequence on the calender I was reminded of this section in From Far Out There, that is half and half based on what did go down. But as Hemingway said, it could be, truer than true. Enjoy. If you want to buy a copy of From Far Out There, go HERE!


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Another day in may #2

Another Day In May. ?. Fiction Theory. Summer Notebook. 2014. Page Nine Of Second Moleskine. Written By A.H.K. Draft Proofs. West Vine Press.

 THE MEMORY OF a brain never skips a beat. There’s no such thing as a hangover. Slowly in silence it all comes back. I remember everything.

End day and new night, and the three of us, Conrad, me and Slaughter, were sitting a bar called Taxidermy and a girl asked, “You want tequila?” 

End night and new day, and this happened, maybe or maybe it is fiction…still, I remember everything. I wrote it all down.

Tequila. That’s all it took and bam. After the tequila there was a stranger who said he was a Celtic folklore from the wilderness. His beard looked like it was made out of grass and twigs and he was always plucking a banjo or playing out of tune metal solos on an unplugged electric guitar, and after the tequila, there was a week of raves and hallway sit-downs and bathroom speakeasies, there was unrehearsed hip hop in garages and in the rain and there was college students and business men and women and doctors and nurses and veterans of wars, and some of them were playing with hula-hoops and chains made out of fire, and there was a house behind the university, and it rested directly down the hill in the backyard of the biggest graveyard in the city, and for seven days, there was punk and it rained tequila, and she had a pickup full of it, and after the tequila there was seven days of monster trucks and broken porches and broken talks and broken screen doors, and for seven days there was tequila, and the tequila wouldn’t run out for seven days, and this happened, probably, and the memory of a brain never skips a beat. There’s no such thing as a hangover.

New day and new night on little to no sleep. Seven days of tequila and across the street there were young kids with their young drugs and everyone was dancing and after she asked us if we wanted tequila there was a harmony with the nature of good times, and everything was forgotten, and in seven days everything that happened before the first day would be remembered, but not for seven days, and it was Sunday and I woke up alone in the driver’s seat of a car that wasn’t mine. Slaughter was somewhere in the Upper Peninsula and I was locked out of the rental’s floor that I was sleeping on and Conrad was missing in action. It was Sunday. I don’t like Sundays, never have and I don’t know why, and I was sad because it was a new day and it was almost summer and my life was almost chaos. Total chaos…

End day.CIMG1237

Another day in may #1

New day.

It’s cold and I didn’t even finish one of my last cigarettes, and I cant afford to waste the vice to my addiction, but I think I zoned out and a new song is playing. It’s john Lennon and he said he found out that there’s no guru who can see through you…

I found out. I found out. John Lennon Found out, and I think I found out too, something, I found out something…I think…

Wait. Same day. I zoned out again looking at willows shadow on woods lake, like hand puppets at night under lantern in bug tent near lake Michigan. I found out…no…

The song by john Lennon is over and next it is M…I…C…K…E…Y….Mickey Mouse. It’s one of the last tracks from the clockwork…no, the full metal jacket soundtrack from the Stanley Kubrick film. The scene where the young american battalion is walking side by side with flame throwers through a town that is on fire at night. Everything is burning and they look terrified with who they are and what they are doing and what they are seeing, and for the most part they are kids, all in their early twenties, and as they walk with helmets and boots and look close to sickness and losing their minds, and as they walk in the fire storm of what was the home of children before the war, there are no enemies, only their thoughts and the darkness and the fire and the voices that are heard on screen as they sing M….I…C…K…E…Y Mickey mouse. And near the fade out to black one of the soldiers is thinking about some girl and the innocent smell of her sexual desire, and he found out, and what he found out, I’m not sure, but he found out, there’s no doubt about that, and mickey mouse is the sad song that will get them through the night, because its the only song all the troops can remember. CIMG0980 (2)