Gummy bears were everywhere, and though that sounded like the helm of a good dream, it really wasn't.Not that Rowland could remember.Waking up still clutching his T-shirt in the heat of the mid afternoon again, with a throbbing headache like someone had shot him between his eyes but didn't have the decency to finish him off. And the familiar feeling of waking up as if he hadn't slept at all, and that he'll never truly wake up for the rest of the day as he existed in his body which felt like he'd somehow replaced bone with concrete. Wishing that he could do so much as even remember his dream in order to bring some context to where he was and why it felt so much better than waking up, or if he could find the genius who switched on the day and knock their light's out.Unwittingly, he furrowed his brow.For, although it was an otherwise fantastic sleep, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was going to be his last, really good sleep that is.Rising from the position he laid down in lik
Rowland knew that he didn't want this whole situation to matter all that much, especially not today. He had heard enough from the reporter as they moved on to sports, and it was strangely enough, enough to give him the energy to stand up from his seated position, toss his T-shirt onto the bed and slug on with his life; breaking off and tucking the bad parts of that thought, along with the dead man behind the clouds that which brought a silver lining as he walked into the bathroom to further relieve himself;"...it's gonna be another hot, clear and sunny day in California, folks! Though, temperatures have cooled around areas...", so said the easy eyed stranger. But Rowland felt the freeze of precipitation - condensation which created an accumulation of clouds above his head as the thought of the dead man - which stuck to his mood like a thorn in his paw, indicated a slight chance of rainfallHe in fact, actually didn't pack a raincoat or an umbrella..But he had to think despite the pa
'Jesus Christ...', Rowland rubbed his sore eyes until they made what he would call a comfortable squeak as he started to question just how many screws he lost and how many were currently loose.Admittedly on auto-pilot with the blunt wrap stuck to his lips and subconsciously trying to use it to get rid of the bloody oak under the willow and out of his own head, to every single frame of mind that brought back photographic horror like a Fucking fucked up flip book.But instead he left it, crushing the garret onto his shoe and putting it onto what would be better known as the pencil space upon the easel. Rowland's less than sober mind recalled the fresh memories of that chilling glossed over glare within the dead man's dry and pinkish one eye.It made him swallow hard. Figuring that he was better off only knowing one side, putting it face down against the easel and moved to the wall of canvases once more.It was just, too soon...His phone then buzzed again but only once as he reached fo
But as they drove, Rowland's curiosity begged and boiled him almost compulsively to ask..;"What did you do with...", he wanted to know but couldn't quite get himself to finish that sentence as he blinked behind his shades."With? ", Nick's tone was stiff as he relaxed and made himself comfortable in his seat."...With the fingers, teeth and toes?", as Rowland said this, Nick rolled his head to face him still laying on the seat. He didn't remember Rowland staying to watch... But after an odd silence;"I got rid of them.", Nick stated bluntly as he faced away again, looking forward at the road past his chin as Johnny and Santo's Sleep Walking softly played on the stereo..."How many times have you had to bury someone like that? ", Rowland spotted a red light amidst his thoughts behind dark glasses, Nick fell silent in the music;"...I've never done that before.", He then said," The first time, always sticks... But in all honesty, I never pegged it as something to fear, considering that
A coldness was in their eyes but not even the reflection of their bright windows could show it... Rowland thought he felt it, he certainly felt something as Nick rested his hands in Rowland's back pockets and eradicated any negative space between them, locking lips to seal their unspoken tacit agreement.But Rowland put a hand on Nick's chest and stopped;"Erm,... Do you have like a tooth pick or something that I could-..?", Nick rolled his eyes and shut him up, kissing Rowland until his concerns turned to hums and his hums then turned into soft moans.There was no talking as words became unnecessary, and all that was left were the sound and song of all lovers as they danced freely to their own rhythm once their minds rested in all forms of astral and earthly pleasure. Somewhat becoming one in their individual worlds; Nick's chest bloomed and rose with fire at the sight of Rowland's powerful alter ego once again as they challenged each other's dominance while time slowly shifted just
"I'm telling you Lucius, you've gotta put those phones away before you start glowing green.", Rowland laughed at the sound of His reaction as he jokingly scoffed."You know what, Macspazatron. It's a social thing, I don't think you'd get it.", as Nick said this Rowland lolled his head and rolled his eyes in sarcastic humor;"Hardy har, asshole. But, you can miss me on the people bit.""And secondly, I don't think that's how radiation works. They're kinda stuck on me what with important business and shit.", Nick stretched."Magnetism, it's already starting.", Rowland jolted to one side and smiled to himself as Nick nudged him in the side with his knuckles while he, stared thoughtfully at the floor having just remembered something;"Speaking of, people. What are we gonna do at the ball-gala-dinner... Thing anyway?", Nick revealed his hand in his peripheral view as he passed over the blunt before roughly settling back down."You're just supposed to show some face, Y'know. You'll get to k
Those two bullet holes each had their own quarrel that which Nick told him when he asked. Like how He was shot at after a deal went bust; Rowland huffed a laugh at how comical Nick was during his tell tail of how a moment of mistaken identity with a the wife of a Colombian drug lord almost got him and a few of his companions killed. He could still remember how Nick laughed about the pain, said he laughed all the way to a small clinic he had to break into for cover and had this still weird click in his shoulder that only worsened after the second gun shot wound.Still remembering how furious he was with Nick for taking him there to that godforsaken place that seemed to have changed everything and how frightful it was...it is... And how confused he felt, or might still feel...But couldn't help but also remember how good that knitwear looked on Him... And just how much fun they had even after all things considered... Rowland just tried to focus on Nick in that picture, and as he was in
There were no stops, nor music to kill the suffocating silence...The drive home was long and quiet...No one said a word, they couldn't even look at each other...Nick was driving fast but Rowland had managed to put on his seatbelt, too tired to realise the expired irony.And whose heart, was so heavy in so many ways that he thought it might fall out of his chest and tear through his button down shirt, or smoosh his innards from it's mere weight; that if he breathed in too deeply it would simply stop like it would somehow disappear from his rib cage.He was gutted beyond all reason, split open and oozing.He subconsciously bounced his left leg anxiously.Rowland felt that he could just die from personal embarrassment alone, but that was too close a call already. Biting his split bottom lip and subconsciously tonging at the sore and dry blood that clotted the gash, still too focused on the aching pain in his chest, the back of his head and biceps, or that blunt throb from a swelling e
His stomach churned as the door knob turned and creaked with sinisism he thought he could feel in the air, but what he saw, who he saw once the door was open...he almost dropped the gun. And as he put his arm by his side, he was tempted to hide it. The door was open and Nick came eye to eye with Rowland as the door creaked wide over the sound of the radio;"Row...", the way he said his name was a whisper with that voice of molasses that still gave Rowland chills, but this time it was more like the chills you get when you feel or see something supernatural. He might as well have said 'no', for Rowland didn't believe it either...What does a ghost say to another ghost? The fucking thought made him feel like his life was just some fucking joke and that pissed him off, but before he could react with anger, Nick marched toward him and then did the strangest thing - he kissed him. It was full of impatient passion but all Rowland could justify was the taste of bitter-sweet cherry cola on hi
Ever meet someone that just screams chaos, but you go for it anyways...If you answered yes, then I know you're lying. Because you never see it coming until they carve the fucking words into your forehead with a piece of your own fucking rib...****Bitter Truths " That ain't nothing but the Devil!""...Sometimes horrific events come into our lives. We get fired from our jobs. We get ill. A loved one dies one. Scrolling through the news we are overwhelmed with murder and natural disasters, as Mother Nature and our fellow humans seem to be in race to see who can kill us off first. Hate surrounds us.It is only human to look at these thinhs and wonder "why." Why do they hate us? Why do we hate them? Why does so much horror have to happen in this world?The "why" is the origin of fear. The "why" is the unkown, and people fear the unknown. This fear of the unknown, of things that lurk in the dark, that threaten our existence...It is where horror is born.Some people will look at the hor
{Yesterdays todays and tomorrows} -Flashback- When in Rome.Nick lay face up upon it with his Clearwater eyes in sunlight as his mind was lost in the ceiling; he couldn't remember what they were talking about but he knew it was something about angels and demons, and the beginning and end of the world.he had read somewhere, that there are no archangels... But merely they are the brothers and sisters of mankind... And to this day he just can't put my finger on it... And told Rowland once he came back from the bathroom, Nick chimed in the silence with a baritone of concern. "Well...maybe, the brothers and sisters of mankind are too the archangels we know,... instead of contradicting the belief it's the chicken and the egg. Both exist as both one and separate, I mean a chicken can't come from thin air and neither can the egg, right? I mean I probably didn't first come in the same guise as the egg we've come to know, that's how we know that evolution is possible. But I th
CaliforniaThe next few days, weeks, months felt sort of normal to Rowland, he hadn't the joys of finding out the side effects of antidepressants just yet. But it was like if a cheery whistle and song played in the back of his mind like a cheesey theme song from a musical, singing in the rain after a storm he felt was still right behind him but to him for the time being he felt that things could get sunnier - would get sunnier and damn well should.And yet such a polarisation didn't scare him, he finally felt the better side of nothing...He had visited home every so often to keep his mother sane, checked that off his list like a chore out of love - incidentally promising that he would come back for his birthday, but otherwise things felt better. He even painted freely in between brakes of editing Olivia and his' work making the executive decision including her help create a punk/goth culturale magazine starting with the Rainbowradioactive kids; the thing was, that he noticed everythi
RainbowradioactiveIf salt were a physical feeling it would taste of a wound, he split his lip on a smile a while ago. Licking the gash as he waited...He had a few days off, so he figured that when he got home he would do that thing he really didn't want to do.So he found himself in the waiting room of a private psychiatrist's office next to a ficus plant just as stiff and stoic as he was in that moment, as he realized he'd admitted defeat to Elizabeth he tuned into the receptionist's radio in the background to the ambiance that which all hospitals and clinic had, though to Rowland it was more like a dentist's office... He could just hear her now, under the thought of whatever questions he could be drilled with.He tensed his jaw as he waited. He actually got a card from Elizabeth after she called a psychologist to refer him to a psychiatrist, little did he know there was a difference...The difference being that a psychiatrist is a medical grade pusher, to put it simply. Where as a
Working for three days straight on Hong Kong Island and usually he would find Monday was followed by Thursday or you can't believe it's Friday when just yesterday it was Tuesday but now he felt all three - counting every second light lighting fixtures and their positions, tours of causeway bay and placement of the painting while preparing a speech, all he could think about was what he said the day he decided to leave Shellville with Nick as he smoked out his window and watched the sun set change the sky and sea. Rowland thought he found another installation to Dantés nine circles of hell - deliberate ignorance chains you to a writing desk to think you're entire fucking life over. And for some reason he imagined a raven screaming and pecking at you for the Fucking sake of some sick irony.The devine comedy being that humans have no one else to blame but themselves for their damnation... But this made him think of something else as he looked out the window of his hotel room, crushing th
Seeing all of this didn't make it any less unreal for Rowland... In fact, it might of just convinced him that he was seeing dead people. Like it wasn't just in his dreams anymore as he kept repeating a head count of the recently deceased like sheep from sleep he couldn't get in a head that felt full of wool yet never in a warm way. And, forgive him for being cheesey but something he was getting use to was that this fucked up feeling which felt like something else bad and wasn't going away - adding the quiver in the mutton's throat from either anxious fear or the memory of how stupidly choked up he got in front of the Pastor at Charlotte's funeral towards the end of their reverend chat.Her death wasn't the end.He was this feeling's "to let"*...Always having imagined that by using emojis as symbolic to describe specific sounds of a word it would be as much a language as Egyptian or Kanji or any language for that matter - for a letter is simply a symbol of indication... An icon to sim
{Cry me sunshine, Cupcake}***"My feet fell on the floor...", When Rowland thought about that typo from an inner conversation that which he couldn't remember, it made him dizzy as he morbidly imagined a body suspended from nowhere ragdoll to the floor...Mind bending when he thought about what that could mean as an actual sentence and that made him fear he'd gone full circle.An idle mind is the devil's playground as "They" say.He watched his paints run dry in a dusty corner infront of a blank canvas, his mind was splayed across the dusty floor boards in piles of loose papers amidst origami trinkets...Hong Kong, Berlin, Stockholm... he still needed to clean up and get a few things done while still somehow giving way to hating himself for not packing a little earlier for his trip to start in China and sitting around in silence despite the work ideas he had and wanted to pen down in his black journal having discussed this in a boardroom meeting, but...no.Just not right then at least
It was like he fucking woke up from death, so tempted to fall off the edge of the bed and sink off the face of the Earth as he held his head in one hand with his elbows on his knees - Death was welcomed. Too tired to show the fucking confusion this all added to his life behind high-nerfing cigarette smoke, spacing out on the smoke streams as he watched ash fall to the Raj patterned carpet over wooden varnished floor as he then heard a soft good morning from behind him as the sheets on Yoko's side of the bed started to twist with movement but she didn't get up and he felt the silence until he went so deep in thought that he stiffened once he felt slightly familiar hands touch his back before a soft kiss was planted at the back of his neck as Yoko got off the bed wearing nothing but his round rimmed spectacles, his undershirt with black thigh high socks, tracing her hand to Rowland's bright blond head of hair and roughly rubbed his head down playfully as she made her way while lazily st