Thursday, May 28, 2009


I sit at home dazed and confused. I have no idea where my life is going or what I’ve even lived. I look around my apartment and see feint images of memories that I don‘t really remember. I look at myself and don’t know who I am anymore. I have no idea where to go from here or if I’ve ever even gone anywhere at all. It’s all just a strange blur. After a while I walk to the center of my room and just sit on the floor. Eventually, light comes in through the window. As the light fills the room I get up look outside and see everyone below.
While looking down I start having reflections on life and also humanity as a whole. I rethink what the goals in life are and the standards one must live up to. Seeing everyone walk from place to place to their jobs and houses made me see people as a collective force and root of civilization. Everyone constantly tries meet ideals in society, but what do those ideals really mean? What truly defines an individual? What is the actual goal of one’s life?
As I walk back to my bed I lie down, and rest my eyes. After falling asleep I have a vivid dream only it felt like I was awake. Actually more awake than I already was. It was a strange state of mind where it seemed that I suddenly understood everything as if it all just came together. After a while I abruptly re awoke and forgot everything I saw within seconds . Despite that I still felt a new sense conscience and was able to see things in a different perspective. As I walked downstairs things seemed less blurry and problems less relevant. After walking out of my house into I started the day with a new sense of contempt and motivation.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Gasmask Blues

First of all let’s get one thing straight, I’m not crazy. Cliché way to start my tale, I know, but once I think about it, it’s the only way I can start it. The visions started coming to me a few months back. Dr. Porter said it was because of all the stress and anxiety I felt when I lost my job at the plant. We were drilling underneath a ghost town when we hit a pocket of unknown chemical. The gas was thick, like you could shape it into what you will if your fingers swirled around it. Five of my men died, the rest of us barely got out of there alive. Most of us had mask on, the low brand quality kind that are company was more than happy to stock up with because of how under we were going.

“Safety is always a huge concern of our company when it comes to our workers. You guys are priority.” They told me that on my first day, hell they said it so well I lapped it up like syrup, we all did. After me being quarantine for a week and my daily chemical scrubs they shoved me back into society.

“There is nothing wrong with you Troy; we will continue your regular screenings every six months to be sure. What happened to most of your team could have been cause from allergies, bug bites or lack of oxygen. You have no chemical traces on you whatsoever.”

Ha, nothing wrong with me? I know what I saw down there, my men know what they saw down there. Well, when enough white men in white lab coats tell you the same thing over and over again it’s almost our nature to believe them. We are so quick to ditch what we know is fact if a doctor or a scientist tells you different. Those bastards can make white seem black and we would gladly agree.

“Maybe they are right Troy, I mean, we were down there pass normal hours. The dark plays tricks on you. We all know that.” They’re nervous giggles and shifty eyes told me that their minds were forcing them to understand. You could see the CAN NOT COMPUTE sign practically on their forehead. Twitching fingers and lips, like the body is gathering up all its energy just to swallow the lie, and make it reality.

Only the human mind has that skill, taking fantasy and morphing it into cold, hard, solid truth. Not me though, I’m above that. I know what I saw, what I heard and felt. The smell of rotting flesh is like soot under my nose, the outlines of their jerking bodies are etched under my eye lids. That evidence alone is way too powerful for even my mind to comprehend making it false play.

They thought I was crazy though, me leaking out information around the lunch room, telling my dead men’s families what really went down, why they didn’t want open casket funerals. I got “let go” three months after the accident. Two years salary, six month require visit to a psychologist and a pat on my ass.

“Tell me what you’re seeing Troy. Tell me about the visions you’re having.” I see the doc scribbling away in his little notepad, I’m not even talking and he’s writing like a mad man. Has anyone ever told him it’s very unnerving? Him writing in frenzy when you aren’t saying a word?

“Mask, everyone is wearing a gasmask: kids at school, teachers, farmers, business men, mothers, fathers, old, young, everyone!”

“Why do you think they are wearing these mask Troy?” He says calmly without looking up from his chicken scratch hand writing.

“Well obviously Doc something is in the air and it has been. People are doing normal activities with these things covering their faces. Children are playing dodge ball right in my front yard. High school kids shopping at the malls, guys playing golf, why just the other day I saw a drunk pissing on a bus bench right outside of the bakery.”

“Was he wearing one as well?”

“Yes, a goddamn drunk!” I practically yelled, feeling frustrated all of a sudden. “I’m not crazy, okay? I’m not. I know what I sound like, but I’m not pulling your chain here. I see these people, just like I see you sitting in that chair, right there, clear as day!” I couldn’t lower my voice if I tried; he was looking at me like I was crazy. His silence was telling me that I was.

“No one said you were crazy Troy, I’m simply trying to understand. Do you think I can understand what you’re saying Troy?” He was speaking softly, as if not to make me feel threaten. I ignored his question though; it really was a stupid question.

“Why not hear me out Troy? Hmm? I think the reason you are seeing these ‘people’ is because of what happened with the drilling accident…”

“I know that! I feel like it’s a sign, someone is trying to warn me or something. I’ve never been a religious man doc but I honestly think that God might have his hand in this. Leave it to him to give an atheist the job of telling the world of our future and have me run around here looking like a nut.” I grunt, feeling slightly better that he’s started to grasp where I’m coming from.

“Let me finish Troy. I think these gas mask people is the way your mind is coping with the death of your co workers. You were in charge down there and you panic when your co workers started behaving strangely. I’ve been told from the case that the proper safety equipment was not being used down there and that was the cause of the deaths. You’re seeing these masked people because your mind is telling you the solution to what happened down there. Now, there probably everywhere because the thought really hit home with you. It’s a common thing when a large deal of guilt, stress and grief are placed on a person. I’m going to write you a prescription for some medicine that should help you sleep better. Better sleep means your mind will be able to deal with what happened better.”

I gathered up my jacket and snatched the little pink slip from his hand. All I heard was,
“See you next week.”
Right before I slammed the door.

Something was down there with us, that gas strangled my men. I could feel myself mumbling out loud as I walked down the busy New York streets. I knew I looked like a fool but I didn’t care, they weren’t gonna convince me that I didn’t see what I did.

Just as I turned the corner I saw a 20 something year old boy walking his dog. He was bobbing his head a little to the music blaring from behind his mask and his dog was peeing on a near by tree. I stood there frowning as people on the street walked right past him without even bating an eye. Once the dog was done they continued to walk toward me. I felt my eyes become blurry as tears threaten to fall. The boy stopped right in front of me and cocked his head to the side as if confused. His dog just sniffed my feet, picking up my fear and disappointment even through the gasmask it wore.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Sex on the Beach

“What is this suit…I’m wearing?” I was dazed, from what felt like a hangover.

The bright sun that shone from the window had awoken me. I adjusted my eyes. The room was quite unorthodox looking. There were a lot of odd figures and trinkets hanging on the walls and lying about. I was still trying to figure out how I got in the room, and why the hell I was wearing this obnoxious looking costume. I started to get up so I examine the room better. I woozily walked towards the drawer. Upon it laid a three-headed statue.

“Weird,” I muttered.

As I walked around the room, I slowly began to recollect the night before. There were dazzling lights, loud music, and beautiful women… then there was her. I vaguely remembered her face. I did remember meeting her at the bar. She ordered me a drink, but I did not remember what it was. My memory began to get fuzzy again. Suddenly, a throbbing pain struck my brain.

“Yes…I remember now…that drink…ugh…”

She had ordered me a Sex on the Beach…and insisted I add in a special ingredient to it. She claimed it would have given it a spunk I have never tasted or experienced before. Her exact words being, “It’s some shit.”

“Spunk my ass…” I bitterly said.

The spunk had knocked me out…cold. The events that transpired afterwards, I had no idea what there were. I did however know, I was robbed, put into this suit, and left in this room. I decided not to dwell on last night, and continued exploring the room. I noticed a mirror. It was clear, and I noticed my ridiculous look. A small laugh escaped my mouth. I touched the mirror... and it suddenly rippled like water. The image of the mirror changed from me to a dog, its piercing black eyes staring at me.

“What the…” I stepped closer towards the mirror.

Without any warning, I fell right into the mirror, the glass transforming from solid into liquid. I was falling, falling into a reflective hole of hell. All around me, I saw the dog with its black eyes. I started to feel funny myself, as if I was undergoing a metamorphosis.

“What’s happening to me?” I yelled. Oddly, it sounded like a bark as I yelled it.

As I fell, the reflective glass around me started to shatter, shattering faster than I could fall. The glass fell on me, and the shards hit me with excruciating pain. I closed my eyes to try to escape my apparent death. Closing my eyes seemed to help because the pain began to subside. After all the pain was gone, I cautiously opened my eyes. I felt myself breathing heavily into a mask. It was a gas mask.

“Huh?” I yelped, which came out as a whimper.

I tried walking, but a sharp tug held me back. I turned around. A young man in a gas mask had me by a leash. Shocked, I tried to remove the leash he had around me. I realized in horror that I did not have hands I had paws.

“What the fuck?” I exclaimed (which came out as a loud howl).

“How the hell did I turn into a dog?”

I assumed this transformation happened as I was free falling in the glass chamber. I did not know why or how I transformed or ended up where I was, but I wanted to escape the leash and whoever my master was. I noticed my gas mask was somewhat loose. I decided that this was the time to break free from this slave master. I shook my head violently and the mask flew off like a bird. Happy to be free, I started gnawing at the leash behind me. My master looked shocked, he started to pull back on the leash, hoping to restrain me, but it was too late, I almost had bitten off the leash. With one great pull, I ripped off the leash, and made a run for it. The adrenaline from escaping made me hunger for blood. I ran fiercely away, hoping in the back in my mind to find something tasty to sink my fangs into. I lucked out, because as I ran, an old man happened to be walking towards my direction. I decided he would be my victim. I charged towards and began my attacking stance. I aimed for his leg, opened my mouth wide, and bit down as hard as I could. The old man was taken aback by my actions, and started to wince in pain. I bit down harder, until I saw blood seeping from the holes I just created. As the man yelled in agony, I felt my energy being sucked away and I started to feel weak. I let my grip on the man’s leg loosen up; as I thought that would make me stronger…it did not. My body began experiencing a strange sensation.

“What’s happening?!” I thought to myself.

I felt the same metamorphosis feeling I felt when I was in the hellhole.

“Oh god…”

I blacked out.


I woke up again. When I came to my senses, I was staring face to face with a cold, metallic face.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked…my voice sounding tired.

“I AM BOT RXP23.,” replied the face. “MAKE YOUR MOVE.”


I looked down; apparently, I was playing chess with this bucket of bolts. As I looked down, I realized I was an older man, with rough skin, and very tired fingers. I felt my face, I had a long beard, and a big nose. I also realized I was wearing large spectacles.

“Oh well…I don’t know what the hell happened, or what the hell is going on…but I like chess.” I murmured to myself.

Then I remembered what that girl had told me, all so long ago.

“Some shit, indeed.”

Thursday, May 21, 2009

The Chess game

Said the Creator to his creation

over an intense game of chess

I'll bet you anything

Let's see who's the best

But be warned i've been playing

since the wee age of nine

you can't make a move

That is not in my mind

One move,two move

the creator's face showed glee

you'll have to do better

if you want to beat me

His tin foe said nothing

his face told no tale

The creator was certain

that his Robot would fail

In two moves it was over

the creator was stunned

the answer eluded him

how the robot had won

He puffed up his chess

said what is your prize

you won fair and square

i admit i'm suprise

He stared at the robot

he looked for a sign

the answer soon came

your future is mine

By Nacastia