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DeVil in the Details. Long Island Brain Slice
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
DeVil in the Details. Lazy Daisies,Comatose Roses,Sacred Blue,Ultura-Marina,Mouthingthewordcolourful
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
DeVil in the Details. Chapter sixteen: Almostnearlydeadbutnotquite
Nothing has felt the same to him since California, everything was much colder.He could feel it in the air, it must have rained before he woke up on this particular day, as winter's full bloom approached in the city in the shape of snow. Leaving far and few parks partially filled with lonely runners braving the cold with breath like smoke in past empty basketball parks through some still colourful and dormant, damp and soppy trees, though what is left of their colours still warm from far in this quaint two storey apartment on third avenue down town Seattle.To Rowland it was home.He then sneezed, crossing his blue and white vertically striped pyjama pants tucked into his thick black socks and resting his legs upon the arms of his desk chair, slipping his thumbs through his scissor-punched sleeve holes in his long sleeved faded tee under a folded black fleece tracksuit top's sleeves for comfort as he starred out his bedroom window near his desk for a moment, rubbing his hand over his
DeVil in the Details. Mr. Goodbar in Sgt Pepper's lonely hearts club
And when it came to feelings; it felt like a drowning, violent, lukewarm sleep.Rowland's body and his mind were torn apart as one part of him turned into two as if they were always that way. Blurring this line between that word that defines what is real and what is not on a universal scale that made him feel small and insignificant through a long standing process. Stripping him of himself as if he were a mere blood orange, and just then, he swore he could tell where his existence stopped and where This existence began, surpassing his comprehension and seeping into this world, which was for some reason unquestionable in it's deafening silence,...it didn't make sense but it didn't need him to believe as it stood strong alone,... It sort of gave him the same feeling one might get when they see an old mountain, great and ancient. His body was simply a doorway, falling past and through a threshold and simply fell into This place like acidic gelatine ripping his bones from his very soul, s
DeVil in the Details. Paper Pomodoro
"Coffee?", he asked in Russian."As black as my soul.", Nick stated in his mother tongue as he sat down as his yes to the old man's offer, Ivan chuckled."You look tired.", Nick jousted jokingly, Ivan raised his already low sitting brow behind a groomed and greying goatee;"Ha, I'm always tired, my boy.", he smiled and exposed one silver canine."This place is, not like you...", Nick coolly pointed out."Brahms.", the old man answered clicking his fingers for a waiter, he then grabbed and stroked his cane made from his very own left femur bone as he waited to be assisted, "I enjoy French cuisine.", sitting up as straight as a broomstick, so much so that the double breasted coat he wore looked half folded as if he were a walking hanger as he ordered two coffees."You called?", Nick asked."Several new clients are interested.", Ivan answered."Marcel DuPont, a regular but I've heard things of a drug bust in recent months...", Nick patiently listened as Ivan continued whilst he reached f
DeVil in the Details. Dead Rosegold
That off-beat question and the like left them staggering from their champagne spangled fox trot and had put a stigmata in Rowland's words. Moments that blurred between the chronological lines of the moments after coming to.He wanted to apologize in any way that he could, but to say the word "sorry" just didn't feel as if it retained it's meaning over the years. Rowland himself has heard it from so many faces from memory. But usually people say it to shut someone up, then being right just never felt as satisfying as they would say.It helped however at times from the right people, he just didn't know if he was the right person to Nick.It was just a thought, but it just goes to show that you could stop wars with good weed, it smelt like damn good weed too. So tempting to Close his window and hot box as Nick drove fast and through the smoke. But that was before his nose clogged, Rowland laughed to himself sorrowfully.Why where they doing this to each other? Why did it hurt so fucking
DeVil in the Details. Chapter seventeen: Mister softee's troubles
OniminO...A mixture like blood and milk, marble of the deepest core a metallic ore of something unknown, the opulence of something unfathomable a treasure that makes obsolete yet untouchable, unattainable.Except for within the mind...Paint can only hold a colour but the colour is simply an idea of visual spectrum.The colour of vibrations...Maybe that's why each always had a mood so to speak...The reason for "why so blue?" and "seeing red"; but he never knew why green was envy?OniminO blue was a supposed blue that rhymed with gold, though it was a darker shade of blue than Rowland had imagined...Knowing that chorney would do just as well with the same thing.Black, he meant to say black.What did the words mean before it was given to this blue? Or is it simply a name for the means of categorisation, a collection of coordination like math. Do you then start from A?Well, red has always been seen to be a lustful and powerful colour the darker the shade and every cherry flavoured
DeVil in the Details. Babycakes is a Killer
Rowland fancied himself doughnuts yet he was still so far into his own head that he was already out the door as he sat on the dusty wood paneled floors, and once he focused on food, he couldn't even recall what he was thinking of before it. He was just sitting and watching paint dry as he tried to remember.Standing up in front of his large canvas with the further, pong, clink and ting of empty aerosol cans among large paint spluges on the floor and on cans and broke away from his thoughts as he quietly looked around for a T-shirt, somewhere...He then put on his sneakers, grabbed his keys and a jacket and started thinking about waffles and ice-cream.Settling in his car, he fixed the popped collar of Nick's dark denim jacket that which was accompanied by a jingle of familiar and now often used keys; Nick's jacket of course, still held the scent of burning roses. Now, it wasn't so much the fact that it was Nick's scent but more the fact that the smell alone was, soothing to Rowland mu
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- DeVil in the Details.
Yesterdays, Todays and Tomorrows
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
- DeVil in the Details.
Vivamus, moriendum est
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
- DeVil in the Details.
Chapter twentytwo: Mr.Goodbar
{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
- DeVil in the Details.
*I'm no Flower Child*
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
- DeVil in the Details.
Los Angeles
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
- DeVil in the Details.
Hong Kong
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
- DeVil in the Details.
Tripping on mushroom clouds
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
- DeVil in the Details.
Chapter twenty one:The Reaper wears bubblegum blue
{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
- DeVil in the Details.
Somewhere in Milano
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
