Part two

In a strenuous act of kindness, I smiled. A bi-polar mind riddled with confusion and doubt, the hatred, like static, clinging to the bones of a fool, I sat there. The reminder of a cyclical existence, plagued by repetition, I sat there and I couldn’t move.

Granted

Last night a Korean woman named Toyota granted me happiness for the rest of my life. This happened after she tilted her head sideways like a dog and said, "Fuck you", because I asked for success first. The boyfriend told me Toyota had a straight path to the angels and after she fell into a strange hypnotic state, twisted her hands around like a fortune teller reading a crystal ball, chanted something unintelligible and blew the remainder of her breath in my direction I thought, crap, could this be for real or is it the scotch they're feeding me? After this soulful woman of the earth, sun and holy moon casually tossed her lit cigarette in the ocean I thought, shit, for a second I was going to be happy forever.

Get it.

Off with religion's head and stifle the celebration of celebrities.

Part one

The light casting off my candle shimmered the faint idea of a devil staring back at me. My breath was cold and audible. A shot of whiskey sounded good.

b l a h

Remember the child riding the dull colored bike around in circles, the occupant in the back of an aging mind. Trying to shut the door on this person will leave life a spiraling mess of resentment tinged with aggression bordering depression. The good fight is living out this time free to express and with the energy to go out and play. Life's repetitions will shine its horrid face one night after drinking and from there the situation needs to be dealt with, otherwise precious character traits will be lost and replaced with ones that just get you by.

Drawings

Some illustrations by Brad Holland for Shel Silverstein's The Devil & Billy Markham