In the Neighbourhood

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“It’s not much, but it’s ours, it’s homey and welcoming, our hood.” Gun Roswell

The neighbourhood had seen better days, but Mrs. Pauley had lived there since before anyone can remember. She raised a family of six boys, who were all grown up and moved away. Since Mr. Pauley had died three months ago, she’d had no income. She’s fallen behind in the rent. The landlord, accompanied by the police, had arrived to evict Mrs. Pauley from the house she’s lived in for forty years…

***

I was sitting on the curve, waiting for my best friends Lily and Bobby. We were going to play hops-scotch after school today and as usual, I was early. My homework was done already and mom had awarded me with chocolate muffins she had baked herself. I consider myself a nerdy girl and try to live up to my favourite TV characters, meaning not having too many creature comforts. It’s kinda hard since I like dressing up, the colour pink and I especially love chocolate. Anyways, my grams told me I was an old soul, and I looked that up on the internet, what it actually meant. I kind of understood the jest of it, what it means. And even though sometimes my friends go “What?” when I talk to them in long sentences, and sometimes take the side of the adults, I still feel like a little kid and I like to play.

I was getting bored, waiting for my friends to come. They were usually late, especially Lily, who it took forever to decide on what to wear after the school uniform got tossed waiting for the next day. Then I heard the sirens wailing. I wondered if there had been an accident and got up to catch a better glimpse of the nearing sound. It was two police cars coming to this street. They drove by me and parked in front of old lady Pauley’s house. I got scared thinking Mrs Pauley was hurt or even worse. So I ran closer, to find out what was going on. The landlord Mr Pruitt was also there. He and four policemen walked right to Mrs Pauley’s door and knocked on it.

I had inched myself closer to the house and was standing right behind two of the officers. I tapped on the other one’s back, to get their attention. He turned around and looked at me surprised.

“Hi little girl! What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I’m Emily. I live over there.” I was pointing at our house a block away.

“Nice to meet you Emily.” The officer told me. “Maybe you should go back to playing. We have some things we’d like to discuss with Mrs Pauley.”

“I’m OK. I am waiting for my friends.” I insisted.

By this time, my presence had caught the attention of the other ones too.

“Young lady, run along now. This is grown up business.” The lady officer told me.

“It’s OK. My grandma told me I am growing up really fast and know a lot of grown up stuff.” I tried.

The others were looking at each other, I think the landlord did not like me very much. All us neighbourhood kids knew he didn’t have any kids and therefore did not like them.

“Look, Emily was it?” The nicer lady officer said.

I nodded.

“You should run along now.”

I was going to answer her, but I saw my two friends arriving. They had headed straight to the house after they had seen the police cars in front.

“Hi Emily! What’s going on? Are there robbers here?” Bobby was making his usual assumptions.

The officers seemed to be getting a little annoyed and looking at us kids not sure on what to do.

“I dunno!” I shrugged my shoulders.

“No robbers young man.” The other officer responded.

“Too bad,” Bobby replied.

“Is old lady Pauley OK?” I asked

“She is fine.” The officer told me.

“So why are the police here then?” I was curious now.

“Oh, just some adult stuff, nothing for you to worry your pretty head about.” He started.

“It’s fine you can tell us.” I told him

“Yeah, tell us!” Lily joined the chorus.

By this time a few other kids had arrived to the house and more were on their way. It seemed all this action of police cars had drawn the attention of the kids around the hood. Finally I counted around twenty children who were checking out the yard, the police cars and asking the officers all kinds of questions.

“I think we’d better do this another day.” The lady officer told her partner, “It seems we have drawn too much attention and I don’t feel comfortable dragging an old lady out of the house in front of all these children.” She looked worried.

“What if we ask Mr Pruitt if he could come up with some sort of an arrangement.” The officer told the others.

“Sounds like a good plan.” The other ones agreed.

“Mr. Pruitt, can we have a word with you.” The lady officer waved for Mr Pruitt to step closer.

We tried to listen in on the conversation, but could not hear much. Apparently nothing much was going on in the end since they all left in a while. Us kids started our own separate ways. As I was leaving I looked back and saw Mrs Pauley in the window. She was smiling and waved at me. I waved back and ran after my friends thinking I was glad she was alright.

Something so wild about nature…

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“There is something to be said about nature, as us humans are the feast to some of the species roaming free out there. It’s a good thing, the circle of life if you will, right?!?” Gun Roswell

Camping - bears pairing humans with the proper wine

Urban nature
What a wild creature
Concrete, asphalt
Dog poop on the sidewalk
Grass may look green
But everyone has seen
It was spray painted
To keep it untainted
And just as a feature

Nothing quite like
The smell of petroleum
In the early morning
When riding that bike
Or taking a hike
Though fair warning
Try to avoid stepping
Onto the tossed wrapping
Made of aluminium

Reaching the heavy trafficked streets
Listening to the musical feats
Of the car horn section on the right
The jackhammers creating the beats
People shouting in chorus
Day feeling more bright
Like your name was Doris
Crossing the street at red light
Just for fun not out of spite

Come late evening
Walking through the darkened park
The streetlights broken
Someone a lurking
Deep in the bushes
Not at sea, so at least no sharks
Your pace fastening
Trying to be cunning
Then almost running

Finally arriving
To the safe haven
Entering the doorway
You realize you’re not in Norway
From the lack of pine trees
Rather the sweet smell of pee
Greeting you, making you sneeze
Not the perfume of choice
But it could be worse?

You could be camping
Out in the wilderness
In a sleeping bag, damping
Rain pouring on your sleepiness
Bears lurking outside
No where to hide
Clutching onto the covers
Hoping to survive
Until the sun rises

Coffee, Coffee, Coffee and some more Coffee… yes please!

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“Waddaya mean I had too much coffee today? (Trips, stumbles, does not fall, while reaching for the next cup)” Gun Roswell


Since the dawn of time when humans first dropped down from the trees and started walking, their first trip must have been to the closest Starbucks for some coffee.

Remember the classic film “2001: A Space Odyssey” and first scene where the prehistoric man is bewildered when a big black block lands before him? What if instead of the monolith a giant cup of coffee would have landed? I think we would have evolved much faster and would be more advanced today if that would have been the case 😉

But let’s move forward in time and to present day.

I have dropped in a quite a few suggestions (read request) in our office “suggestion box“: Add to the list of necessary office supplies an IV drop filled with coffee. Each worker would then be hooked into the IV every morning and during the day; a dedicated person would circulate around the office and re-fill the empty ones.

But seriously, coffee is the one good drug that keeps this world up and running. Here is an example of an ordinary working day:

1st cup: 06.00 AM: Eyes barely open reaching for my glasses on the night stand sniffing for that precious aroma. Nothing yet! Half running downstairs praying the automated coffee maker has not suffered from any kind of electrical stroke during the night and my coffee would be there waiting for me.

It is! Hallelujah let the day begin!

2nd cup: 06.20 AM: Morning ablutions behind me, standing fully clothed ready to take off to work, gulping the second cup of coffee while reaching for the door.

3rd cup: 07.00 AM: In the office, turning on the coffee machine before even reaching for the lights in the darkened office. Impatiently waiting while the machine is making its morning sounds before I can insert my coffee capsule into the damned thing and get my coffee (Note: It’s a double shot just to make sure I don’t run out before I can tackle today’s pile of work).

4th to 6th cup: 08.00 to 11.00 AM: A steady flow of “double shots” for each cup to keep up the pace of the day and a smile on my face.

7th cup: 11.30 AM: A cup of coffee to complement a tasty lunch, of course 😉

8th to 9th cup: 12.00 PM to 02.00 PM: One for each scheduled meeting for the afternoon.

10th (to 11th) cup: 02.15 PM: It is finally time for the afternoon coffee break! (In reality this is a very large cup so guess it counts for two or more…).

12th cup: 03.00 PM: Last squeeze (and cup of coffee) before the day’s work is done!

13th cup: 04.00 PM: Time to leave for home, one more for the road…

14th to Umpteenth cup: 05.00 PM to Midnight: After a full day of work, I managed a full hour of exercise, went grocery shopping and vacuumed the whole house. Albeit I was so perked up from all the coffee I managed to get to bed early (around 2 AM) after cleaning a few closets and taking the dog out three times during the evening for a brisk walk and of course, having a cup of coffee here and there; P

The lesson learned: There is no such thing as too much coffee!

By the way, last time I had my yearly check up at the doctors, the conclusion was: there was far too much blood in my caffeine circulation!


My Brain has So many Tabs Open!

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“Too much rattling up there, in this thing they call brain even if the sign says empty space to rent!” Gu Roswell


Work
Eat
Sleep
Repeat

Filling my mind with (useful and) useless information
Keeping up with the latest situation

Internet
Radio
Television
Stereo

Hard at work
Mind in full play
If you do not reboot
There will be hell to pay

A warning

Your start up disk is almost full

Ignoring

All command functions are off line

My internal screen goes dark
There is absolutely no spark

Staring in the mirror
At my blank face
A blank page

Cold water against my skin
But neither circuit nor pin
Makes the connection to my brain

Your system has encountered an error
Oh the terror
Loosing my ground
while seeing the message
Page not found

Scanning my mind
But nothing I find
Search button pressed once more
Hoping some data to score

Panic strikes
Trying to hide
My head in a bush
Feeling the rush
To backup my data
Sooner than later

Processing…

Internal error detected
Crash report has been sent as expected

Complete system restore
Reboot in one, two, three, four…

A slumber I fall
Hearing my dreams call

Power down complete

Early next morning
Waking up from my snoring

System initializing
Complete scanning in progress
No further errors detected

Finally rid of the ogres
My mind again protected

All is in ship shape and Bristol fashion
Need to start up in rations

Restore was successful
Having my mind full
With all that extra bull
Now in clear mind
I can rewind

Until my next reboot
I have some space to fill
It would be a real hoot
If I had the will
And way
To let some of it get away

The circle is complete

Work
Eat
Sleep
Repeat


Lesson learnt?
“Sometimes it’s good to just take a day off, from everything, really!”

The Fallen Ice Vulture and the Ascended Angel

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‘Falling to ones death doesn’t mean it is the end of things.’

The Fallen Ice Vulture and the Ascended Angel

Falling fast. 

Life death, all things that nature never really last. The only thing which matters is trying from those to move past. 

The remorse, the regrets, the failures, all those to be left behind. Once done, shedding those feelings, letting oneself become, the undone, something of the other kind can begin, another kind of tune to which with sing.

But what if there is nothing there? What then? What of the scare? Only the consuming darkness into which enfold awaiting? Becoming no more, the one single state always hated?



All of that which came before, wasted? Like the sacrifice made for others, not being able to watch on as they thrive, being alive just because the choice was made to keep them safe?

Falling, ever deeper.

The sensations of the body becoming clearer, the mind following suit. There is nothing more to be done except to let it happen. The inevitable fate down below waiting. Getting nearer.



The end. 



There will be pain, for sure. But hopefully only for a diminishing moment before the cold grasp of death so pure ends it all. Must stand proud, be tall. It is just a fall after all.

Almost there now. 



The ground visible. The irony of the beauty there, the blues, the whites, the greens, all the colours so bright and vivid as far as he eyes can see. Something of a scenery to be committed to memory during any other time… but this. 



As soon, there will be nothing left. No more memories, no other thoughts, no nothing any more. It’s the way, the death’s score. The being that once was, no more.

Yielding, to the inevitable now. 



Even if there might have been so much doubt. The mind always working. Trying to figure out.The before time, before the fall. All of it. But during the all too brief moment, some of it becoming pure torment of the mind… the only kind of thoughts being those… of letting it all go. The forever sleep awaiting. No more hesitation.

The ground almost at level. 



The last resting place visible ahead there. Eyes closed, no use in seeing it all up front, close and personal. The final hit to the ground as the body crashing, falling into pieces, somewhere where there where no one else sees it…

Thank the Force for small favours!

Letting go, letting go… the mantra playing in slow-mo.

A gust of wind all around suddenly. The soft sounds of… winds flapping?

Birds of prey? No, no, no! They cannot slay! Not so dead yet anyway!

Eyes, eyes, all over spy, trying to find the source of why.

Another flap of wings, the sound closer now, somehow even larger this time around.

Falling? 



No, slowing down. 



Being grabbed a hold of somehow. 

The softness surrounds. A feathery light touch all around. 

A surprise!?

Am I, dead or alive?


The flapping of the wings continue, carrying away no more ground to be found. Higher ever upwards flying, another surprise! Perhaps even a soft smile? No more falling, that is nice. Feeling light. Ended has the fight, life, death, all things that nature. Is this something in between perhaps?

A soft gravely croak, somehow familiar sounds. As if talking, trying to understand the underlying meaning of the talk of it all. And then it hits. Like a ton of hard bricks! Inside of the head. A thought perhaps? A telepathic link into the mind sinks. The connection clearer now, as if a frequency opened? Or is this pure delusional hoping?

Dead or alive? The guess is as good as any of the mind.

Flying real high, far away from the ground and the fall. Perhaps surviving or then its just the remnant thought, of the body once brilliant having been. So many things seen, now leaving.

But the words inside get so much clearer. The voice so familiar that much is becoming surer.

Higher, ever more higher up. The clouds at reach now. 



Could be so easy to touch them, but don’t dare. Not even daring to hope this is all real. Perhaps the one last dream before falling into the eternal sleep? Daring to hope perhaps not a good deal.


“I am here.”

“Who, are you?”

“I am here, for you.”

The voice too familiar. Having heard it so many times before. The soft hissing sounds, the gravely tone. Not of a bird, but someone, once known.

“I know you.”

“Yes you do. I came for you.”

“Why?”

“Because you needed me.”

“Simple as that?”

“Simple, as that.”

“But you were…”

“I know. But not any more.”

“Where are we going?”

“Wherever you want.”

“Am I alive?”

“That, is for you to decide.”

Flying over the lush green lands. Finally in good hands or rather, held by a wide wing’s span. The Vulture with the darkest of feathers so blue, taking the fallen towards the light.

A Dreary Night on the Bench

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“Sleeping in the park, on a hard bench? Yeah, well, it happens to people a lot more often than you might think, and it’s not even Halloween!” Gun Roswell


A Dreary Night on the Bench

Surrounded by dark and misty air
Missed the very last fare
Sitting on this, park bench
Wishing I had worn a warm trench
The eerie, dark and damp surroundings
Leaving my heart pounding
Not a single soul in sight
On this mystical, scary night
Wrapping my thin coat tighter
My mood getting suddenly lighter
I hear some noises
A car in the distance, approaches
Finally… do I have a ride!?!

The Northern Barbarian I am

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“it’s shocking to learn of one’s heritage, especially, through some tv-documentary!” Gun Roswell

The Northern Barbarian I am

So it started as a joke, that little jibe, that one poke, from some supposed expert, reading for the playback, on some documentary from the past. That one line, which totally stuck, when the Romans made their way, up North and those bastard dwellers there, dared to revoke, whatever rules or laws they might just have tried to push onto them, and then simply calling them barbarian for standing against.

And now, the history long since placed into the past where it belongs, and no matter how civilised and woke the society has become, over the millennia or more, the core of the people still remain. The tiny barbarian, once a slur by some conquerer, raising its head. Wanting to revolt against the establishments, the very law, even if there just might not be a really good cause. 

But, there is always some unruly brewing, deep inside the ranks, of a few. And if the sparkle inside is fed, and willingly out let, then a revolution will soon be at hand. The so called barbarian, taking their stance. Well, at lest in a modern way, meaning, taking their say, into the wideness of the web, hoping some similar minded person, will hear the pleads, and indeed, they did!

Long live the revolution! Long live the Northern Barbarians!

Up there in the high skies, the moon spies us

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“The moon is always shining, up there in the high skies, even if it is not so bright” Gun Roswell 

Up there in the high skies, the moon spies us

The day bright and full with sunshine, the skies blue as can be, but there is one thing so totally off and perhaps even wrong, as there is something up there too, mixing with the calmest and coolest of hues. Any that, is the dimly lit moon, hovering above us all, not afraid to fall, over the horizon, where it as supposed to be for at least the time of day, when the sun should be the one to dominate, but it seems today, that is not the case. As if being an opposite kind and of a day, with the nightly vision hanging there, as by someone’s decision to leave it up there, for whatever purpose it might serve, no one really knows, but as long as the winds blow and the earth keeps on rotating like it is supposed to, there really is no reason for panic, even if this is not going as planned, and perhaps this unusual event is not to prevent the sun from shining, rather enhancing the experience for us dwellers on the ground.

What ever floats in my mind! Part Two

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“Every writer I know has trouble writing” Joseph Heller

What ever floats in my mind!

I woke up, when I was born, no sooner, no later. That was as stupid an opening line as “Once upon a time” or “It was a cold and rainy night”, but I thought I was being clever in starting the tale with a joke. You who follow my writing may have noticed the humouristic twist in most tales, at least at some point. For the life of me, I cannot write serious, not matter how I try. Maybe I would have a career in joke writing or scetches for “Saturday Night Live” or similar shows.

OK, so the agreed process for this tale is: Absolutely no censorship in this tale, my mind freely flowing as my fingers do the typing. I am no longer in command of this vessel. What ever is written on these pages is purely fictional as produced by the army of voices living in my head. I was thinking of cheating of course, thinking before writing, plotting my way into this tale.

After emerging from the deep state I was in, I decided to finally let go, to leave it alone, to not think too much and see what will develop. Apart from the typos caused by my fingers not being able to keep up, this is all just a flow of the mind. I know it is crowded in there, despite the fact the sign implies there is “room for rent”. My occupants like to play tricks on me and those who might take a glimpse to my brain.

Funny things those renters of mine. I prefer to use that word rather than thinking this is a permanent situation. I do hope, that, at some point the other voices will take their leave and I can finally make decisions on my own. Whether that be writing or something else. Mostly it is writing though. When I do decide to let go, the writing is usually good, so I really shouldn’t be taking any credit. But someone once said, A good writer borrows, a great writer steals.

Oh, oh, I am stuck now, either the others went on a break or then they are all napping. I am actually wondering how familiar and TV-oriented this sounds. I do sound like a Borg drone from Star Trek, don’t I. “I can’t hear the others, I need the others to survive!” must be the most quoted line in the franchise when the Borg characters are in play.

But I digest, I mean digress ;P

Flow of mind or the lack there of. A while back I wrote a funny note on my mind having too many tabs open. Oddly enough, that was not fiction but fact. I do like to dabble more on the fiction than the fact side, never getting too personal, but I have a warm feeling inside of me. Guess I am safe as long as it doesn’t run down my legs! But so far so good.

So, back to fact or fiction, was that what I was talking about? No, it was the thing of too many things occupying the brain at one point, hence the tabs and open thing. OK, back on track. So yes. That actually has a link to the ever so talked about writer’s block. The only blockage I have or have had for the past fifty odd years is or was the fact that I do censor myself, a lot. I have so many ideas, causing my mind to overflow.

Currently, as I started my writing life for the third and hopefully charmed time, I will let myself write what ever I want, who ever I want and where ever I want. Sans all the self doubt, drama and excuses. Oh my! Now I am finally getting serious! I actually got a little serious there a day or so back when I poured my heart and thoughts to a few darker poems. I admit I use humour as a cover and rather than dwelling on real life issues, I crack a joke.

I freely admit to the following personality traits: I am sarcastic, pessimistic, I have a warped sense of humour, I am spontaneous yet conscious, I am lazy, but also industrious, at least when work is concerned, personal life not so much. So now you know. I like to hide but remain right in the open. I talk a lot, but say nothing.

Back to the topic again, (I seem to be loosing the track now constantly), what ever that was, I actually forgot at this point. Oh yes, free flow of the mind. So not a jogy, not a Vulcan, not logical, just your average everyday humanoid being. So that is my life story or sort of story. At least what I came up with today. I guess this is more than four hundred words. I don’t know how much of myself I have revealed in this little mind tale, but read between the lines or over the lines. Somewhere there, between, lies the truth.

What ever floats in my mind! Part One

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“Whatever floats your boat as long as it doesn’t sink mine!”

What ever floats in my mind!

Start your engines and may the best women, win!

Yes, yes, yes! I was watching the season finale of the RuPaul’s Drag Race on rerun once again today and, no, my favourite queen was not crowned today. This is actually supposed to be, again, one of those exercises for where I type in what ever floats in my mind in an allotted amount of time.

Problem: There is a *lot* floating there, whether it is inspirational, interesting or even artistic, is another matter. So here I am tapping the keys on my mac, which I actually wrote an homage to a little while back. Go figure!

OK, so back to the subject at hand: What is going on in my mind? Thinking, thinking, thinking… Ah here is a topic! Well, as my Mommy used to tell me: “If you don’t have anything nice to say, shut the fuck up!” And she was right. I try to count to five, sometimes even ten is needed to calm down when ever something really sets me off. But I am going to share a little secret here, trying not to be to harsh about it.

For a little while now, I have gotten deeper and deeper into the underbelly of the wery wide web. Yeah, the “w” was on purpose ;P So like the rant said, I am socially investigating interesting and well to be honest, not so interesting sites and people. (No, *not* stalking 😉 ).

Where was I? Oh yes, so I have been following this TV show and kind of liked it. Actually liking is an understatement! I got pretty much hooked on it. Enjoying the seasons so far (last season was kind of ‘meh’), but now I have learnt of a few changes in the show and the main characters are about to happen in the upon coming season. To be honest, all the hype out there generated by the “real” hard core fans is getting really annoying and the changes seem unrealistic to the nature of the show, so it may be I need to start looking for a new favourite series sooner than later. They say change is good, well, let’s see. Maybe I will turn off the television all together and pick up knitting!

Alright, enough about that subject. Guess now since I have actually shared my pain I can move on! Oh please grow up! It is a television series, not real life.

So back to the topic and what is floating in my mind. Oh, oh, oh, I have revived my life passion of photography. Not that I ever left it, but for the past year or so, the extension of my arm, also known as a c.a.m.e.r.a, had been a wee bit neglected, but now I once more feel it detached to myself. Snapping away like a mad woman!

Talking of which, or witch: yes you can call me one if you like ;P. So talking about being a little cuckoo or hii-haa or (whistling sound while spinning my finger pointed at my head), so crazy basically. I have come to realize you have to be a little off your rockers to actually pull out any kind of regular job people do in today’s world. And I think it is actually a requirement for the artistic field. So guess I am on the right track, either way. And to think about it, I used to be worried, especially having such a crazy family. But that tale is a topic for another day!

So what is floating in my mind… Let’s see, of course the pending surgery, that is a given. What else. Train of thought, OK, now I am actually thinking and when that happens, all ideas are out the door. For example if I plan my writing ahead, characters, plot (what plot?) and all that jazz, I end up having a nice setup and then start writing and the complete work is actually something completely different. So, I have realized thinking is no good, not for me at least. This may not be a good guideline for everyone and certainly not what the books on the subject matter teach. But when I let go, and let the characters guide me, the story writes itself. OK, so I am telling a little tall tale here, since I currently have at least ten stories in various stages of incompletion, but still. Take this rant for example. No planning and here I am typing, still typing, just typing. Utter, complete, nonsense!
And with that thought, I will take the exit to the right. Thanks Ladies and Gents! It’s been real! Please come back for more in the near future for more of… Tales of the Unexpected (or what ever floats in my mind)!