Gasoline

[Another old story, but this is one I am somewhat fond of. I made a few small changes to the original story, but it was after a skim, so there might be a few things I need to change.]

The kid was a little shaken, but ready. Once you finally get the determination to finally do something like this, then you are ready. He was soaked, and smelled quite awful. The smell could be compared to a gas station bathroom. Every once in a while, he twitched, and had to itch his face. Whenever a family on a Saturday stroll walked by, they looked at him as if he was a drug dealer, or some kind of new-age rebel, about to commit some dastardly act. Maybe first impressions are more accurate than you think.

The kid laughs a little, then spits at the ground, to get the nasty taste out of his mouth. He felt all the pockets that containing things he was carrying. “It’s all there.” He said. Then, as if the climax of his own dramatic Shakespearean play, he was about to started his final monologue. This was his time to shine. The spotlight was on him. The masses of lost and confused people were looking upon him. Society was absolute chaos. When the crowd noticed he was about to speak, they all instantaneously went silent. The watery eyes of the people were filled with so much hope and optimism because they were about to be enlightened. He was going to tell them what was wrong with the world and how to fix it. He was going to help save the world.

“The world is in some deep shit, to say the least. The entire infrastructure of humanity is close to collapsing. Our whole way of life is about to perish; economically, politically, and morally. We are faced with war and genocide, poverty and disease, excuses and apathy. If we don’t do something soon, we are facing our own Armageddon.”

The kid spoke with the conviction of a Juggernaut, the intensity of a General during a time of war, and the sincerity of a Saint. Every single soul in the crowd was moved by words. When he slammed a closed fist in his hand for emphasis, the crowd would physically move from of the ferocity of his words. They would start to get ready to cheer, but they knew that interrupting the kid’s speech would be like interrupting God himself. It must be saved for the very end.

Several friends walk out of a near-by gas station and see the kid talking. He was standing next to the train tracts, and was talking like he was giving a speech. It made no sense. The group of friends chuckled and walked away. It was just some stupid, crazy kid that was talking to himself, or more like preaching to himself.

The kid stopped speaking for a second, and panned the crowd. He saw the inspiration in the crowd. It was because of him. So with even more vigor, he started to speak again. “If we want anything to change, we are the ones who have to do it. No matter how rich or powerful someone is, nothing is going to change unless it is done by the masses, by you. We can’t rely on the government, since because they let us get into this position. Government started because we knew that humans were naturally destructive. Humans are selfish beings that only look out themselves and neglect the rest of society. It is then that we enacted the government. They were there to keep us intact and help keep us safe. One of the many flaws about that is a little less obvious then the rest. We became dependent on them. With the government in place, humans could still act selfish and greedy, as long as they behaved within the laws. We became dependent on them to help society as a whole. As long as each person was able to sustain a decent life, at least, they didn’t care. This system may have seemingly worked for a while, but it cannot sustain itself anymore. The government cannot help us anymore. They cannot help what was originally our duty. They had created things like homeless shelters and welfare to help those in need, but the only reason they had to create those things is because we weren’t helping them ourselves. How many times have you passed a homeless man and just shrugged him off? Figured he was just an alcoholic who wasn’t trying hard enough. Whatever the case, you just forget about him, as you do the rest of society who is in dire need of help. We have reached the time where we can no longer forget those who are in trouble because our society as whole is in danger, in danger of collapsing. Our lives are in danger. We have to cast out the ignorance and apathy that we have had of the rest of the world. We have to evolve as a human race and do our part to help save the world!”

The crowd could not contain itself anymore. The crowd exploded with a roar. People clapping, cheering, screaming, anything they could do to show their bliss. The energy everyone had could fuel the world’s energy problem for the rest of eternity.

A cop car pulled up next to the kid. A family earlier complained that he seemed like a menace. The cop slowly got out of the car and screamed out “Hey kid! What are you doing?”

The kid looks over and laughs. It wasn’t slight chuckle, but he was full out laughing. The crowd looked confused, as if what he was laughing about, and they never were going to get an answer. Laughing and laughing and laughing; it was the only thing he was doing. It kept on going until he started to cough uncontrollably. Some disgusting, odd colored liquid came out. “The government doesn’t care about us anymore, and neither do their watchdogs! They have given up hope, and rather help fuel the downfall of humanity! Instead of being proactive, they further dig the grave, making it big enough for the melting pot of the world!”

The cop did understand who or what the kid was talking about. The kid acted like he was talking to a crowd; a crowd that wasn't there. All he knew is that this kid was being a public menace and had to be stopped. “Okay, I am going to have to ask you stop doing whatever it is you are doing, and please go home.” Gun at holster, with his hand hovering over it; the cop was ready if anything happened.

“These watchdogs are as corrupt and apathetic as the people who they were hired to protect. They will do whatever they want, and if they feel threatened by change that we are trying to do, they may try and stop us! I propose to you now, that no matter what comes in our way, we must keep fighting! Our government was established and was stated in the declaration of independence that ‘That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.’ The government has failed us and it up to us to make a difference! They might try to stop us, through the power of the pen, or the power of the sword, but it makes no difference. If the entire world has the energy that I see in this crowd, we will succeed, no matter what!”

The cop realized that he was probably not getting through to the kid, so he decided to try something else. Gun not in holster anymore, rather in his hand, pointed at the kid. He wasn’t going to shoot the kid unless he did something hostel, but he needed to get the kid to stop, and come back to the station for questioning. He was a nuisance to the community and something needed to be done. “Kid, please just stop and come with me for a second. I really don’t want to shoot.”

The kid looked back at the cop. There was no way he was going to leave with the cop. It was time to finish what he was born to do. He pulled out a lighter from his pocket, and clenched it in his hand. “We don’t have much time, and I am afraid that I won’t be able to help much more after this speech. I am being ostracized from society because I want to change the world. This is why I am talking to you. After I am gone, it is up to all of you to continue this fight. In the end, it is all about the message. Our message will save the world. Maybe if our message can reach people across the globe, then maybe we stand a chance. All that I can do now is to tell you our message. Tell you what must be done.”

The cop had no idea what to do. This was only his second week on the job. He hasn’t dealt with any situation like this, and it was not like the academy prepared him for something like this. He noticed that the train lights were going off; a train was coming. A kid was standing their, preaching to no one in front of the train tracks. The only thing he could think to do was call for back up. He called in on his radio, gun still pointing at the kid.

The kid took a deep breath in. It was now or never. He couldn’t let all his work end up in failure. He exhaled. “I am the martyr for the world’s anti-sins. I am your hope, and you are the future. Please don’t let me, nay, the world down. The message is, love everyone and love the world.”

The cop was watching, still trying to figure out what to do. He saw the kid with the lighter, but didn’t quite fire. It wasn’t necessarily a threat. The lighter then got lit, and the tip of the lighter, the flame, went to his heart. All of a sudden, the kid burst into flames. The thing the kid was soaked in was gasoline. Instantly, the cop fired at the kid, hoping he could take him down before he caused any harm. He hit his chest, which punctured a small container of fuel that he had in his pocket. A small outburst of flames came from the container once the fire reached the rest of the fuel. The cop just fell down and watched the scene in horror. With that shot, a small portion of the crowd disappeared.

The crowd was in sheer panic. Their beloved leader, their messiah, was in flames. Almost everyone was in tears, bawling their eyes out. The most terrifying thing about the scene is that he was still alive. He was slowing walking offstage.

The kid’s pain was nothing. In the face of death, you really don’t care what happens to you, you care what happens to those close to you after your death. With each step, he left a fiery footprint, from his gasoline soaked shoes. Each fiery step extinguished a few of the people in the crowd. Slowly, few by few, the crowd dissipated into almost nothing. He walked around the railing that blocks people from crossing when a train is near. That didn’t stop him. He walked into the middle of the tracks, and stared the train head on. The conductor noticed the kid and started to blare his horn, but it was to no avail; he wasn’t moving. The kid put his legs together, and lifted his arms into the air, to make a lowercase‘t’. It was as if he was Jesus himself, though he knew he was far from it. In the few seconds before the train came barreling into him, he hears a scream from the side. “KID NO!” it was the cop. He dropped his gun and extended his arm, as if he could actually do something to stop it. There was no stopping him. There was no stopping change. There was no stopping history. It needed to happen.

The impact took a fraction of a second. Little did anyone know is that he had at least six more mini gas tanks scattered throughout his attire. Those exploded on impact. He had also ingested as much gasoline as his body could take before expelling it all through vomiting. His fiery intestines flew in every direction, and the front of the train was on fire as it was slowly coming to a stop. It truly was a graphic scene. All there was left was some smoldering pieces of flesh, and the remnants of a crowd that never was.

The cop just sat there, eyes twitching. He had never witnessed anything like this in his entire life. It was hard to even fathom anything like unless you actually witnessed it like he did. All of a sudden, his words resonated through his mind. He was one of the watchdogs. He was trying to stop the change. Not able to understand what the change was, but still interfering with it, he had no other choice. The cop picked up the gun from the ground and put the muzzle in his mouth. He couldn’t live with himself after all that happened. He may have not been in his right mind, but after that, his mind wasn’t even in the right place.

All there was left was some smoldering pieces of flesh, the remnants of a crowd that never was, and a cop who just happened to be at the wrong place at the at the right time. The last person who knew of the kids message died with that gunshot.

The Stone Forest

[Yet another old story of mine. This is pretty much a story of what happened to me one day when I went for a little expedition for the purpose of exploration. I could edit it now, because I know there is problem, especially with the exactness of the copy I got when I switched sources.]




I arrive eagerly to what I think is
going to be a great and awesome experience. Who wouldn’t want to see the “....Stone.. ..Forest....”.
As I arrive though, all my expectations are crushed when I realize there is
nothing special about the place whatsoever. There isn’t even any stones, except
for a little gazebo that looks like no one has used it in a while. Let down and
no longer motivated, I struggle with what to do next.



“I made it
this far, I might as well keep going” Is the census that my mind came down to,
for I have been exploring this place for the first time, despite it being near
me my whole life. I have too far to just turn back. Go the distance, explore
new places, and see new sights. I press onward, not knowing what to expect,
though this whole journey didn’t have any insight in the first place, until I
saw the sign that led me to this dull “....Stone.. ..Forest....”.



I go
through a field, which leads to the nearest wooded area, to continue my
journey. Soon after going into this field, my foot sinks into a watery muck
that gets my shoe covered with mud, and had water seep through the small holes
in my worldly shoes. I soon regret ever continuing on with this increasingly
regretful trip, but I thought to myself “I made it this far, I might as well
keep going.”



The
swamp-like field has past and I make it to the forest. After a few steps, I see
that there is a small stream running through this little valley that time has
decided to make. There really isn’t much to cross, so normally this journey
would have ended unless I was willing to get my already damp shoes soaked, but
then something catches my eye. In the middle of the stream, there were some
stacked bricks and rocks, making a little stepping stone path across the
stream.



Obviously it had to be man made
since there were bricks there. Maybe Someone like me came here before me,
disappointed too when visiting the supposed “Stone Forest”, and put some nearby
stone objects to cross the stream after crossing the marsh. They could have left
it there for the next one who would cross after deciding to move on wards, or
it simply could have slipped there minds. Either way, this little stone path
would help me and countless others who thought in their minds “I made it this
far, I might as well keep going.”



I cross the
stream, carefully, unsure of the craftsmanship of the stone bridge, just to be
relieved that it is sturdy. As I climb up out of the stream I grab onto a
branch, which breaks, almost making me fall into the stream. Thinking quickly, I
plunge the stick into the water to keep my balance. This, stick, though
somewhat a trap, has also helped me, and maybe it would help me in the future.



For the
second time, I try to climb out of the stream, and this time I am successful. I
go out to see another, and this time even bigger field. It bore more
resemblance with a prairie, then a marsh or swamp this time, containing tall,
yellowish leaves. Dead, tall yellowish weeds. I step past the last few branches
that block my way onto the field. Immediately I notice that I cannot see much
in this place. It was surrounded by trees everywhere, except for at the
complete opposite end, there was an opening, but I could not see what laid
beyond the opening. I also notice that in the middle, but still towards the
opposite end, was what looked like really tall, skinny stones, but in reality
were petrified trees. This was the closest thing I have seen to a stone forest
at all, but it was nowhere near what was labeled as the “....Stone.. ..Forest....”.
After scoping the place out, I look for the most cleared path and I keep
walking onward.



I am
walking on a slightly muddy, riddled with brush path. I wondered where the
person before me traveled after crossing the river, there doesn’t seem to be
much a path at all. Continuing to walk on, I look around, only to notice
something odd. I see a group of boards on a slightly cleared path. They were
extended over a small muddy puddle. It soon hits me; there is a path. I run to
it, and look back, seeing some boards going back towards the way I came, but
from a slightly different entrance into the field. Soon I find myself running
back to the beginning of the trail, and I had no idea why. Maybe I wanted to
travel the same path that, someone, or possibly many people have traveled
before when they just were not content with what life has presented them. I
then turn around, and I continued to walk the path.



This path…
it can’t be naturally made. It had to be worn down. One person could have not
done this, it was made over time. Other people have traveled this same route
that I stood on. I started to walk on a little bridge, that actually look like
it took some time to be crafted. It was over a big muddy area. There was no way
it was new, since it looked like it was worn down a lot. No one could have
known that at this time, it would be muddy, so why build a bridge just for one
trip to God-knows-where?



My feet
were tired. At this point, I have been walking for two and a half hours, though
I did take an accidental half hour nap near a lake that I never knew existed.
This path seemingly went nowhere. It would be a waste to keep going only to end
up nowhere, but I thought to myself, “I made it this far, I might as well keep
going.”



I was a lot
closer to the newly found “....Stone..
..Forest....” then I was before,
but the path I was on surprisingly did not lead to it. It was then that I strayed away from the path
and I walked to the group of petrified trees. I have seen petrified trees
before, but none as white as these were. I felt my hand against one of the trees,
and it was hard as a rock… or a stone. There were about twelve petrified trees
total, compared to the hundreds upon hundreds of regular trees that surrounded
this mysterious meadow. Indeed this was a beautiful sight. On the tree that I
touched, I saw that someone carved with a knife “Joe and Christine” and it was
in a heart. Cliché yes, but something about it made the whole scene even
better. Others like me have strayed the path others have made to a place that
others have stayed, and I am sure those others that stayed had done as I was
doing, and that was making my way back to the path, away from this ....Stone.. ..Forest.....”



There were
some small tree branches, though big enough to walk on; they were not too big
for someone to move. They covered another puddle. How again did someone know
that again, there would be a puddle? I didn’t question it, just appreciated it.
Throughout the way, I used the stick that saved me once, to help keep my
balance as I walked on these branches. After these last few puddles though, I
had noticed something. I was near the end of the field.



Some odd
building that I didn’t recognize was at the end of the path, determined to find
out where this whole path has lead me. I walked on until I got to a puddle that
didn’t have any way to cross it. No bricks, no stones, no boards, no bridge, no
logs. This was the first thing that I had come across that someone did not
previously put something there to help all those that would follow after him.
It was then that I realized the answer that I had been thinking about the whole
time, how did they know there would be obstacles when they took this man-made
path.



It wasn’t
so much a direct answer to the question, as a way of explaining it. During that
walk, to the place the people didn’t probably know, with the hope that the new
place which was a real “....Stone..
..Forest....” was better then
the last “....Stone.. ..Forest....”, they encountered an obstacle.
Something really muddy, a stream, or a puddle. So to get across, they found
objects from other peoples poor choices and made a better one. They help make a
way to pass the obstacle. Then they kept walking on the path. Maybe the puddle
that someone else had to cross before wasn’t there for them, so they had no
reason to find a board and put it down, but they knew that when someone else
took this man-made path, it may help them, and at least for me, it did.



So I stand
there, at this puddle. Without even thinking about it, I look around. About 6
feet away was another big branch. It wasn’t quite big enough to cover the whole
puddle, but if you did a jump onto it and off it, you wouldn’t get wet. I gave
it a cross and got to the other side. It would do for now, since there was
nothing else I could have put down. It hit me that I could have easily walked
around the puddle, off the man-made path, instead of putting this branch down,
but I just turned around, and walked to the end of the field.



The last
stretch of path was a little more undefined then the rest. A little harder to
tell from the rest. While walking, I dragged my walking stick in the dirt, to
try and scratch a little more into the path, for those who will walk this path
after me. I reach the opening, and see this, “Murphy’s Down & Under Bar and
Grill”. It was a scummy place, and looked like I would get food poisoning from
eating there, that is, if I had money. There is a street, and across the
street, I saw a dirty little park. There was even a distinct sign on a fence
that said “Picnicking With Permit Only”. I was not aware that one needed a
permit to have a picnic. Right next to the park was a strip of woods, and a
slight hill. On the other side of a hill, was a construction site of some kind
of quarry. I couldn’t even stand to look around anymore, this whole place was
sickening.



I turn
around and look at the giant field I just crossed. The one thing that this
whole thing made me think was why? Why had this path taken me to this scummy
neighborhood, where one needed a permit to picnic, and pollution would pour out
of a place near children could try and play, where one could buy mediocre food
from people that probably wish they were dead while they cooked your crappy
food that has a dead bug in it? After all of this, you would think I would be
disappointed at the least. Sick and tired after one disappointment after another,
after walking almost three hours, even though I had a half hour nap. The thing
was, I was happy.



At this
point, I figured I should find out where in the world I was. Before going to
the road to follow it to the nearest place I could find that I knew, I walked
back to the end of the path. I saw a sign post with no sign. I took a look at
my walking stick, then I put it against the sign post. Maybe someone from this
area, that got tired of all the disappointing food, or dirty scenery, would
walk near “Murphy’s Down & Under Bar and Grill”, and see this path. Maybe
they would walk to it, and see my walking stick, and decide to walk this path
that I and many others help made. They could wonder where this path went, and
who help made it. They could revel in the beauty of the “....Stone.. ..Forest....”
and end up crossing the stepping stones in the stream, and somewhere along the
line, help put some rocks down across a puddle that wasn’t there before. At
least for them, they won’t be disappointed with the “....Stone.. ..Forest....”
that I looked forward to, and this time, they wouldn’t almost fall into the
stream because they already got my walking stick. Just maybe.



I walked
down the road for a few minutes, until I saw a familiar sight; the local movie
theatre. I now knew where I was. So seemingly this unknown place was now known.
One may think after all of this “What should I do now?” I have one and only one
answer. Think to yourself “I made it this far, I might as well keep going.”

Old Prose

(Note: This was written probably about 5 years ago. It wasn't as rancid and shitty as some of the stuff I wrote back then, but wasn't my best. Still figured I would put it on here for shits and giggles while I write other stuff.)

It's a sad sight...
When the rolling plains of wheat and corn are slowly torn away,
and are slowly turned, into the brick and wood forest that we call homes.

I ride by, every weekend, marveling at the endless fields of crops, awing in it's beauty.
It's like a mysterious meadow, as far as the I can see. Nothing in the ordinary, nothing usual to the eye.

Well, nothing like this is usual when your stuck in one of those brick and wood forest. You thrive for change. You thrive for nature. You thrive for something different then all the same thing and when the time comes when this new hustle and bustle world, where technology is taking over, you just need nature.

This is how I was. Ever since I was a little kid. I would pass by, and I loved the sight.
I loved seeing something different every weekend, though slowly it became not so different... but ever so right.

But unfortunatly, as time passed by, so did the ages.

With the ever so unfortunate overpopulation, and less need for crops since the world is reliant on things that are "fast" and "easy", the mysterious meadows
that flooded my past were no longer going to be part of my future. One by one, fields of corn, tomatoes, pumpkins, and everything, were devoured by the massive and ever so hungry brick and wood forest.

The sparkle in my eyes that would come from the sight of these magnificent marvels, slowly faded away, along with them.

But, as this happens, I keep my chin up, and hope in my heart, for as some of these fields have not become victim to the parasitic fabric of "new age society" and I am happy, that some of the things, that I hold close and dear, can still be near.

I still have a fear though, for this forest, of wood and brick, is like a plague...
slowly effecting everything near it... until there is nothing left but it. It may not be long until the remainder of what left falls... It doesn't stop... it won't stop...

It's a sad sight...
When the rolling plains of wheat and corn are slowly torn away,
and are slowly turned, into the brick and wood forest that we call homes.

I ride by, every weekend, marveling at the endless fields of vegetables, awing in it's beauty.
It's like a mysterious meadow, as far as the I can see. Nothing in the ordinary, nothing usual to the eye... but slowly, around these farms, are homes. They are all around us, all around them, like a lion, slowly circling it's prey, before it ATTACKS and claims victory over it's fallen prey. Soon, it will just happen. Everything that kept my life full of joy and wonderment will be gone... and I, along with the rest of the world, even if they don't know it yet, will have lost everything.

It's a sad sight, you know?-

Here's the start

So, after having a whole lot of nothing going on, I decided to start doing shit with my life, so I wanted to get back into my writing. I figured getting a blog would be pretty good, and hell, if it gets good enough, maybe it can start going somewhere.

All my short stories, ramblings, rants and other various things will go on here. I will start with a bunch of old stories I have written over the years that I thought were decent and then hopefully that will get me commited enough to start writing more.

I still have to get used to blogger though.