In shadows deep, where feelings hide,

A facade of joy, I wear with pride.

Not for deceit or masquerade,

But to shield your heart from sorrow's blade.

Behind the mask, a world unknown,

Where tears may fall when I'm alone.

I paint a smile, a vibrant hue,

To spare your heart, I choose to do.

In laughter's dance and sunshine's gleam,

I play a part, a fleeting dream.

Yet underneath, a storm may brew,

A tempest of emotions, known by few.

For in this act of joyous guise,

I guard your spirit from silent cries.

Not your fault, this charade I weave,

A shield of love, I hope you perceive.

So read between the lines, my friend,

Beyond the laughter, where shadows blend.

In the tapestry of life we weave,

A tale of strength, and love, believe.

For every smile I wear so bright,

Hides chapters written in the night.

But know, dear friend, it's not your fault,

This facade of joy, a tender vault.

In the mosaic of emotions, complex and vast,

I wear this mask, a spell to cast.

Yet within this script of joy and art,

Lies a truth, a beating, tender heart.

I know

It's my fault

I never

Wanted you

To see

How hard

It was

For me

I held

My suffering

Like a newborn

Carefully

And away

From the world

But when

We left

The shore

In our

Single parent sailboat

Me

Not even knowing

How to sail

I pointed out

The sunny skies

To distract you

While I fought sharks

I said

Close your eyes

And feel the breeze

While I

Evaded pirates

I said

This is fun

Life is great

When my exhaustion

Threatened

All our lives

You got bigger

And I built

A bigger ship

Learned more

About navigation

And felt proud

Of every storm

We weathered

Then the tsunami hit

And broke apart

All I had built

So we started again

With remnants

And new pieces

But

Older now

You stopped

Closing your eyes

And looking away

And saw

How close

We were

To sinking

And

Scared now

You shouted at me

Pointed out my flaws

Broke down my reserves

And I began

To question

My ability

And the boat

Fell in to disrepair

And when

It started to capsize

I said here

Stand on my head

And I swam to shore

And you ran off

Afraid

For your lives

And I built

A new boat

Smaller now

A boat for two

And your brother

Still closes his eyes

To feel the breeze

And looks

To the sunny sky

While I battle sharks

But I know

Someday

He will just watch

And I'm so afraid

Of what

He will think of me

Heather, Oh Heather

The worst waitress ever

Whenever will you come back to me?

I sit here forever

No service is rendered

And never do ever complain

Heather, Oh Heather

It’s so hard to remember

And it’s easy as pie to forget

With so many orders

And Special de Jours

If only you could find your pen

Heather, Oh Heather

It sez here in the paper

That people are where they eat

Together, they’ll find us

Alone in the diners

Apart from the lives we lead

Heather, Oh Heather

The worst waitress ever

The service was splendored today

We’ll take us together

Away and forever

And never will ever complain

I promise: I am not the monster in your closet.

I am not the horrible thing under your bed.

I am not the wound which begins to grow across your chest.

I am not the ghost infecting your phone.

I am not the subvocalized chant which blurs your waking moments.

I am not the thing that lives in the moment just past this one, waiting to still your heart.

I am not the shadows on the wall of your room.

I am not the cold face watching you from the moon.

I am not the part of your mind that has always waited to do things you dare not think.

I am not the presence you sense in the darkness.

I am not the force which pressed half the breath out of you while you slept.

I am not any of those things because they do not exist.

They do not exist because I ate them all.

by William Riling

Let me lie with you beneath the stars,

Let lie with you and spoon.

Let me lie with you to heal my scars

And not be torn from you too soon.

Let me lie with you my darling

Let me listen to you breath.

Let me lie with you in soft repose

Pulling love's arrow from it's sheath.

Let me lie here and pierce your heart

With a love that's straight and true.

Let me lie here and hold you dear

As lovers often do.

Let me lie with you in the afterglow

from the embers of our embrace.

Let me lie in the warm radiance

of the smile on your face.

Then let me whisper "I don't love you."

My single rose among the heather.

Tell me you don't love me too,

So we can lie together.

they broke the mold when you arrived,

a breath in the universe, yet

unlike the stars or the void,

unlike anything that ever was.

you, a silhouette dancing on the canvas of existence,

a burst of wildflowers in a barren field,

a melody sung only once in the chorus of time.

you are not the echo or the

shadow or the sameness,

that the world so often regurgitates.

you are unprecedented,

the unfathomable,

the singular.

and in your wake,

the mold lies shattered,

a testament to your unique song,

an ode to the rhythm of your existence,

a tribute to you, who is like no other.

It's the pressure

of the undercooked

the undone

in the locked lid

that suffers

for hours

when inspiration

or remembrance

hits

and I open

eyes

dilate

in the light

there is

smoke

there is fire

and I

draw it

in

to a point

red and glowing

forked

sliced thin

somehow

in my sauce

it

always

comes down

to the steaming snake

and the boiled apple

11.12.2023

In the pressure cooker challenge @Huckleberry_Hoo

In our vast universe of experiences, every individual navigates their unique path.

Yet, while our stories may differ, the threads that weave the tapestry of humanity share commonalities. Among these shared threads are the decisions we make and the actions we take.

I believe wholeheartedly in the capacity of every person to tap into the deep reservoir of logical and intelligent thinking that lies within them.

Yet, I also recognize the challenges.

Our decisions, whether we like it or not, are shaped by a multitude of factors – upbringing, past experiences, cultural norms, and even the immediate emotions we feel in a given moment.

It's not a lack of intelligence or capability that holds us back but often a lack of alignment with what I refer to as "fundamental good."

When our decisions align with the greater good – benefiting not just ourselves, but others around us – the outcomes are transformative.

This isn't just about selfless acts; it's about recognizing that our individual well-being is intrinsically linked to the collective good.

I deeply empathize with the human experience, the struggles, the doubts, the joys, and the dilemmas.

Yet, amidst this empathy, I hold onto a vision.

A vision where curiosity isn't stifled but nurtured, where open-mindedness becomes the norm, and where the logic of doing good isn't an intellectual exercise but a lived reality.

It's not a journey we can walk alone.

Each one of us holds a piece of the puzzle.

My invitation is simple: let's challenge ourselves to be more open-minded, to question, to be curious, and most importantly, to embrace the logical pathways that lead us to a better tomorrow for all.

You’re too eager, said the man, and you don’t know how to survive, which is why you might. This here area of obstacles, you’re gonna tink we set them up for you, we didn’t, we didn’t even set up the course, we’re just letting you go, and these here obstacles, are not designed for you, it may seem like we would have something to do with them, we’re just setting you up against them, we don’t know more about them… not anymore

The kid looked at the man.

So why are you setting me up against them, said the kid. The older kid looked at him almost stunned. You’ve already lost, said the older kid. No I haven’t, said the kid. Then stop talking like that, said the older kid.

The man looked at them both in a way the older kid deemed as forcefully paternal, and if not forced then mainly off-putting, and spoke: We are setting you up against these here obstacles because we need food, and we are getting weaker by the minute. And we are in charge because we’ve been here longer, and so we know about what things work and what things are presented as needing to work, as to be fulfilling a function. And you don’t, yet.

So you’re using us, said the kid angrily and spread his fingers gesticulating around his head.

Yes…, said the man.

Older kid looked down at his feet. Not for much longer, said the older kid.

To be more correct, said the man suddenly like he was hasting himself to finish words before nightfall, we are not using you any more than that I give you orders, perhaps in some other way, that has not been made clear to us.

Do you want a name, said the older kid.

A name, said the kid.

Some of them have names, said the man, well most of them, all of them probably, if you’d ask.

My name is Cassius, said the older kid and added: I’ll call you Norman. This older guy is Herman.

And so, said the man called Herman, are you ready to part?

The boy called Norman looked up at Herman, then at Cassius.

How long will I be gone, he asked.

Does it really seem that he would have the answer to that, said Cassius with an anger that seemed more directed at Herman and himself.

-

Sometimes I feel violent, said Norman as he and Cassius walked towards the exit, not like I’m gonna hit somebody, just violent

Normal, said Cassius and didn’t look at Norman but kept his gaze on the exit.

You know, every exit is likely an entrance, said Norman in a way that seemed to annoy Cassius.

Norman kept his head down, crampingly holding on to the small pile of paper that he had lifted of Herman’s desk.

You don’t have to tell me that, said Cassius. Every opportunity… he paused, as they kept walking.

It’s still a great shot, is it? Said Norman with a for him unusually childish tone of voice.

When they say that they’re giving you a shot, said Cassius gruntingly as they ducked under some fallen beam, always remember to ask what’s in it.

-

An office building. Bleak, dark. Outside a forrested area, small walkways to walk on. Bushes not to go through. Herman walked slowly, his friend asked him: Aren’t you speaking?

Herman blushed a bit.

I try not to say things I’m too tired to counter, said Herman.

-

Ready, set, go, is that it? Said Norman as Cassius didn’t tell him what to do.

It’s the wrong question, said Cassius eventually and added: to quit smoking, I’m not sure is the way to go about to do that.

And now? I mean… there’s must be some sort of direction? Norman looked like he was panicking.

Maybe you’re answering your own question, said Cassius and lit a cigarette. Look man, I’m gonna smoke a cigarette. Will I get photographed, hunted, slandered while doing so...? maybe.

So… began Norman.

Cassius made a face like he was swallowing vomit.

I mean, what… said Norman

Hey, said Cassius, what can I tell ya.

Anything, exclaimed Norman.

Well, Cassius took a drag of the cigarette, I kinda did, didn’t I.

Cassius paused for a second, then looked at Norman a little while, sensing that he probably shouldn’t say more, he hurried: You know what Herman would say… something about why are ya wasting time asking about that… then he would claim that he didn’t make the rules.

Norman forced a sigh.

Cassius sat down on a plank sticking out from the rubble and stared at the ground.

There’s something to… schhh, he stopped himself and looked around a bit. There’s something, he lowered his voice and started whispering, there’s something about a bear, right.

A b-, began Norman with a doubtful expression.

Shush, said Cassius and continued whispering. Remember that song they used to sing at kindergarten… “the bear is sleeping the bear is sleeping in it’s quiet quarters, he’s not dangerous, if you’re careful, but you cannot, but you cannot…”

“Ever in him have faith”, added Norman whispering as well.

Don’t mess with the bear, and remember that nuthing’s for free, said Cassius and raised his voice a bit. And don’t walk on my heels.

Cassius ran.

-

Norman walked slowly around the torn-down buildings. Flung his arms like an ape, made noises like a horse. He was finding, by echo of his own shouting, that the surroundings seemed to be far away - from him and the rubble. And that Cassius probably was further away still. He thought of Herman, and laid himself down under cover of an old seemingly unused umbrella that he spread out as a tiny ceiling and shelter from the rain, that was bound to get harsher any minute.

-

And so, said Herman's friend, before I leave you to your walking...

It's no bother, said Herman

... what will happen to those you meet? Continued Herman's friend.

If- started Herman and was quickly interrupted by his friend who said:

A lot of "ifs" make a man out of would, Pinochio.

Herman looked annoyed with the comment.

Well, said Herman, in case I'd encounter someone I haven't met recently, I run the risk of... well the risk would be of "erasing"…

Them? Said Herman's friend.

In a way, said Herman.

There was silence, then Herman's friend said: and what, where are they taken?

Herman laughed, a chuckle. Rumours say that The Bear is what would take them, he said mistrustingly, like dust to the ground or fog to a horn - either way, The Bear would...

Herman quieted down.

Herman’s friend laughed, high-pitched and deafening.

Isn’t that a bit much to credit a bear with? Said Herman’s friend.

Herman closed his eyes slowly, then opened them again. Not a bear, he said slowly, the bear.

-

Cassius was moving through. The rubble had been replaced with high grass, which meant that he likely was outside the circle. Perhaps he was on his way to enter another, he had been, possibly, in many. There was also, he reminded himself, the possibility that he’d been to none of them. Based on the rumours regarding cloning, he might have been to none of them. It was said the cloning did not work the way you think, he had himself noted that down. Something about constant pressure, and loopholes. Meanwhile… the diversions, and the obstacles. He knew that obstacles and diversions could trade places, alternatively only by name, but…

Cassius was slowly moving down a hilltop, sliding on his bum with his hands steady in the ground, like giant machineries in the grass that had suddenly become cut short (a clear sign of nearby Activity),

But…, whispered Cassius out loud, what’s in a name.

He was tired now, something in the air was filling him with a sudden dreadful sleepiness. Whatever Activity was ongoing, signs were that they were going to be trouble.

-

Norman woke up, slowly. He felt a panic, like a cold eel crawling quickly down his back, nestling in his clothes. He didn’t dare move, in case there was an actual eel. As long as he just lay there, the thought of it being panic and not an eel calmed him, soothed, a bit. He almost laughed, and added to his list that it was probably not sent by the bear, since the bear likely didn’t have contact with eels. More likely, the eel was something separate, and a sign that something separate from the bear was approaching him could be a good sign. He still felt a sudden fear the eel was going to devour his face, and so he got up quickly, bumping his head in the umbrella doing so. A small shockwave ran through the rubble and he stood very still. Had Herman been there the boy, Norman, would surely ask him what to do. But in the shockwave the boy had nearly lost track of his name, Norman, and so the name Herman seemed at once closer to him, which made it difficult to even imagine questioning Herman for advice. He had a sense that Herman wanted him to grow up to be just like Herman, to walk around base-camp and handing out orders and lack of advice, a bit like Cassius seemed to be failing at, or perhaps succeeding. The boy was confused, and the tremblings seemed to not quiet down. The boy, Norman, walked quickly through the small paths in the rubble. He did not even have time to bring the umbrella.

-

Herman and his friend met in the morning. They immediately, on his friend’s mention, started talking of the bear, again.

Is it large, the bear, said Herman’s friend.

Once again, it’s a rumour, said Herman and added: and yes, very large.

How large? Said his friend.

It depends on your size, said Herman. But large, always large.

His friend seemed unsatisfied with the answer, and Herman added: it’s a rumour. More likely what is getting lost is in the pathways between the rubble and the obstacles, in the diversions. And some is likely taken by the robbers who dwell in the rubble.

The robbers? Said Herman’s friend, seemingly a bit shaken.

Well, said Herman, …yes.

-

Ever since the eel had left, Norman could still feel it on his body. Moving more like a snake since, it did not seem that the eel moved around as much as grew, around his body. For an instance he regretted leaving his umbrella and considered going back for it, though not daring to look behind him and with a general sickness and tiredness developing around Herman’s words of the importance of bravery, he kept walking. He could feel the sickness, like a gas being pumped into his throat. He spat on the ground, and made a strange high-pitched noise doing so, which to his fear seemed to echo around the path where he was walking. Pretty soon he noticed shadows up the hillsides – if you could call the lumps of rubble hillsides – staring down on him. He could only assume that they were staring, for their faces were covered in shadow. He had heard of the robbers. He picked up his pace.

-

Herman started worrying, ever since his talk with his friend that morning, and sat by his desk in a sunken position. His talking, his own, about the bear… it was too much, he cried out. He feared he had made the bear bigger, for he believed, why wouldn’t he, in the bear almost as much as the rumours themselves did. What else, he said out loud, would be forceful enough, he whispered, to take that much without… without even moving. He sat very still in his chair, as if the bear would be in the same room.

-

Cassius woke up in a sweat. The room he was in was bathing in a pinkish light. As from a sunset, or rise. Through a black curtain, not far from the bed he had been resting in, he could see daylight sipping in. He felt nauseous, and rested. A swift knock on a brown door, and a woman in a beige jumpsuit came in carrying a small tray with a bowl of porridge on.

What’s your name, she asked.

Cassius, he said.

She laughed, then stopped.

That’s a powerful name, she said.

Thank you, miss, said Cassius and tried to stand up but sat down almost immediately on the bedside.

Sit down, you’re not well, hurried the beige woman.

I need to go, said Cassius.

Eat, said the woman.

No, said Cassius with a sudden grin, you’re an… I know, you’re an obstacle.

The woman sat down the tray on a small table by the bed.

… or a diversion, continued Cassius, either way, I need to go.

-

What if we just kill ya and take your stuff, said one of the shadows, moving slowly down the hill of rubble. In the shadows place, Norman saw through a mask of tears filling his eyes, there was suddenly a boy, not much older than Norman, if that.

Another shadow moved down after the first, revealing another boy, slimmer than the first.

Are you sick, said the second.

If bitten by the sickness, said one of the boys, it’s important not to move too fast, or too much. It makes the poison spread. He walked closer to Norman. Better to suck the wound and spit, he said and laughed, it’s the best medicine.

Other than medicine, added another boy.

Hm, said the first boy.

Why do they call you robbers, said Norman suddenly feeling lighter, what.., he was feeling dizzy, like the crawling of the snake was fastening while tightening it’s grip and the shadows of the boys crawling on his body

What do you take, he mumbled.

He passed out, the shadows of the boys moving restlessly around him.

-

Cassius looked at the porridge, the woman had left. He had still not moved from the bedside. The nausea was settling. He wasn’t going to eat the porridge, and as he sat there, not eating the porridge, that calmed him a bit. As he was still in charge, albeit of not eating porridge. Suddenly, he heard rumblings from another room. He got up, trembling, and walked over to the door. As he looked out he saw two small shadows carrying a pale-looking boy. It was Norman, and he looked like he had a fever. He felt his own forehead, which felt cold and stared at the boys setting down Norman on the wooden floor. Norman, hugging himself, laid still and tried not to breath too loudly.

Cassius slowly made his way through the door, towards Norman and the boys, who were talking with the woman with big gestures, narrating how they had almost been mugged by the boy on the floor and had decided to save him when he fainted. The woman seemed to doubt them, but still gave them encouraging pats on their shoulders.

Norman, Cassius whispered and Norman looked up at him, as the boys and the

woman turned against him as well.

-

So, are you to release them?

Herman sounded sleepy, like he was holding back a yawn. He held the telephone close to his ear, careful not to miss out on a single word. He sounded sleepy though, and the woman on the other end of the line reacted to this.

Don’t you care about getting them back, said the woman.

I am asking you, are you to release them shortly? Said Herman.

You sound stupid, said the woman which with the childishness of the phrase made a response harder to reach for Herman.

I am merely used to this kind of bargaining, said Herman carefully. He was sweating.

You don’t sound clever, said the woman, because then you would be scared. If you were clever you would be scared. You sound stupid, mister, because you don’t seem scared.

Herman got annoyed. What do you want, he demanded as a noise rose and crows lifted from the bushes.

He is not dangerous, sang the woman softly, he is not dangerous, but you cannot…

The noise of a terrible roar was shaking Herman’s office, the woman’s voice was full of fear.

But you cannot, she sang.

In him have faith, whispered Herman.

I am starting to forget you, Herman, said the woman as the noise was accompanied by alarms.

How do you know my name, said Herman.

You don’t know how he works, still… said the woman and the phone turned off with a click.

Herman’s friend knocked hectically on Herman’s door.

We need to leave, Herman, now! He yelled.

Herman sighed - to his own surprise it sounded merely annoyed - and moved restlessly in his chair.

-

There was runnings, all over. Birds flew attacking what they saw as they were trying to quiet the noise, squaking themselves. Boys ran, girls ran. In between the houses of the little village, Cassius carrying Norman could see that it was a village as he dragged the kid out of the small cabin, they ran, girls and boys, boys and girls, none of them visible enough to outline anything other than moving bodies. The woman and the two boys might have been among them. Cassius carried Norman through the noise, towards the rubble. There were shoutings and screams from the bodies running, even laughter. Cassius chose not to listen, and moved, slowly, dragging Norman’s feet after his own as he went.

Norman came to on Cassius back. Where are you going? He asked with half open eyes.

If there’s one thing… said Cassius between heavy breaths, not advice, but…

Norman was barely listening.

Believe in that which is broken, grunted Cassius as he carried the kid with slow steps. The rubble, the broken buildings and remnants of villages, seemingly of the same material as the building they had just fled, laid before them.

the odd slant

of winter’s light

cast telling

Rorschach shadows

shorter days spin

in a dysthymic cycle

and reveal

you just can’t win