A Melted Smirk

1

There was a confusing air passing through. Like it smelled bad but you couldn't catch on to what the smell was. I was just sitting there, in the corner, analyzing, discreetly, the possible things that could be creating that smell.
Maybe it's a dead animal? But it smells too sweet. Maybe it's a rotten rat that had raided a candy shop the night before it had died? That actually seems probable.
Them I see it, it's not a rat all, it’s a fucking human. I think it's a human his or her or its skin was too pink, like bubble gum pink, and the skin was dripping off as though it had been sitting on a tropical beach for hours and hours.
I was still sitting there, but I was in awe of what I was seeing. I didn't understand. We were not even near a beach or anything like that. We were in the middle of the world. Like the city in the direct center. Not like the core of the world that would be reasonable due to the things skin. He or she or it started to drift away down the street. I was too curious to just let it go. So I followed. I needed to know what and why.
I didn't know what I meant or why I cared but I did.

The thing entered a door, at the end of a dead end street, which was covered bats which is strange, because I had never ever seen a bat before. So how on earth did I know it was a bat?

But I knew.

Somehow I knew, and I was not afraid. I kept going. I following whatever this thing was into a dark hooded house surrounded by broken dreams of the kind hearted.

The thing was I was always afraid, so why was I not afraid now?

There was something reassuring in that melted pink face, something beautiful, and lost. Broken in fact. As though this thing had gone through something to me, a broken and lost person, who found joy in making fun of the world. It was like all the crap, and broken hearts I had received meant nothing but humor to me. I was able to find a smile in the worst of situations. This made life bittersweet, because I was not only broken, but hiding behind a shield of humor. This pink bubblegum being knew how I felt I could tell by the broken, or melted, smirk on its face.

I didn’t stop after it went through the door. I waited a minute, and checked if it was locked, and of course it was not. It was like the thing had wanted me to follow it.

On this planet filled of things I don’t really understand. Where my knowledge exceeds my own understanding. I wondered what awaited me behind this door.

Was it love? No that’s a stupid thing to even think about, love does come unexpected like this monster thing thing, but when it comes you know, but you don’t understand. Or maybe you do understand, I would not fucking now. I currently think I am in love, but how does one know. Is it the excitement that you get when you talk to that person? The silence you can withhold while being around this person? Is it the thoughts that carry out while you’re not with or talking to this person? Is it the calmness you achieve just by listening to their voice? I don’t know, but I think I am stalling. I am honestly afraid, not only of being in love, of what stands between me and this door. Of what stands behind this door. What if it’s the end of me? What if because I entered this door I never know whether I am in love or not? What if I am just fucking stalling because I can’t stop thinking of these impossible things that don’t make sense because I am of afraid of so much and my fear is barely hitting in?

I think I do love him.

Fuck.

I hate this shit so much, like why is there so many stories about this when it fucking sucks.

Fuck it, I say.

Fuck it as hard as I can fuck it, and then I open the door.

2

Behind it. There was nothing. Not even a bubble gum person. Just nothing.

I realized my worries were nothing as well.

2.0

Behind the door there was bubble gum of all flavors. Little bubble gum people singing songs of those broken dreams those teenagers used to have. Dreams of musicians they would marry. Dreams of futures they would have. Dreams of love they could never get. Every crush that crushed them. Every hope that broke them.

I slowly walked in, trying not to step on anything sticky or chewy or lost.

I knew there was something up.

I knew there was something lost. Maybe in myself. Maybe in these, alien sort things.

Maybe they were martians.

Maybe they were cyborgs.

Imaginary friends of those lost hopes.

Crushed crushes.

Lost dreams.

Maybe they were formed from my own imagination.

Maybe they were lost friends I thought I forgot.

In my world of ketchup fingers and buttercup hearts.

I didn’t know what to think.

I wasn’t trained to really think. I trained to not think at all.

I was trained to believe in religion.

And not be myself.

Of course I rebelled, like most.

And of like none.

I wanted to speak, but I was not even trained to do that.

I knew how to speak.

I think.

I knew how to walk, but I could hardly even do that.

I was a copycat in an original world filled of unoriginal things. 

The Story of the Germfilled Kiss

Premium drinking water

Soaked in someone’s germs

What better way to sing than

In a sickly way?

Soaked in someone’s germs

The man trips down a street

In a sickly way?

“Oh, what a poor soul,” said the nun to the dog

The man trips down the street

Licking up worms

“Oh, what a poor soul,” said the nun to the dog

What a better way to die

Licking up worms

The dog kissed the man

What a better way to die

Than with one last kiss

The Skeleton is Hip To The Beat

GO NAKED TO THE WHITE

Said the skeleton to the dying man

LIVE FREE OF ALL TROUBLES

PRANCE IN THE MALL

LET YOUR BODY SHAKE

LET YOUR BODY FREE

ALLOW THE LIGHT TO CONSUME

ALL YOUR CREVICES

TO SHOW ALL YOUR FAULTS

AND ALL YOUR BEAUTY

BOOGIE DOWN TO THE CLUB

SHOW THOSE YOUNG FOLKS

WHAT’S REALLY GOING DOWN

MAKE THEM JEALOUS OF WHAT

THEY MAY NEVER HAVE

A BODY OF A 20 YEAR OLD

AT THE AGE OF 21

SHOW THEM WHAT YOU GOT

SHOW THEM WHAT YOU DON’T

ASK THEM QUESTIONS LIKE

WHAT’S THE MEANING OF SUPERCALIGRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS?

WHY IS ONE OF MY NIPPLES SMALLER THAN THE OTHER, AND

CAN I SEE YOURS?

RIDE A UNICORN OVER THE FUCKING RAINBOW

GET LAID DIE HAPPY

ANY QUESTIONS?

Why are you screaming?

Said the dying man to the skeleton

BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU WERE SHORT OF HEARING

The Truth Is

Thinking about the way you left

Makes me want to throw your genitals into a grinder and feed them to your cat

Thinking about what you did to me

Makes me want to throw your drunk ass out a plane, while you are still intoxicated

Thinking about what we didn’t do, what we didn’t get to do

Makes me feel like I was not a big fucking idiot, but instead someone who actually thinks

But at the same time there are things I wish had happened

I wish you had never disappeared, I wish you remembered what had happened, I wish, Oh, I wish

That I got the chance to say goodbye

The chance to tell you how I felt, and how I did not want to go on with you anyway

The only mistake I can admit I made was meeting you so abruptly

But I don’t regret it, I enjoyed myself, I did what I wanted to do at the time, I made no mistakes

You know at least we did not have sex or

At least I did not fall in love with

You know at least I did not give you my heart

The same way I did not give you my dignity

You know this has all been very educational

Meeting people online is not always the greatest idea

But hey, I should not give up

Ok Cupid, please tell me there are Plenty Of Fish in the sea

Emotions are my best friends

Happiness is a fleeting delusion

Happiness, why did you leave?

Happiness, oh happiness, I have forgotten your smell

Happiness, I wish you were here

Sadness, I hate you

Sadness, go away

Sadness, yes sadness, is a place I call home

Sadness, why do you never leave?

Anger, where are you now?

Anger, I am sorry I ignore you

Anger, I am not really sorry

Anger, I am glad you have gone

Love, what are you?

Love, why do I see you all over the place?

Love, I’ve met you, but you’ve never stayed long

Love, the dream of love, the fear of love, why do I encounter both?

Emotions, why do you guys control me?

Emotions, I could not be without you

Emotions, you are what help me create

Emotions, you guys are my best friends

Stella Blue’s Trip To The Snow

When you were

young

You always

dreamed

Of

the

Pure

White

snow

But no one

would take you

No one

would show you

No one

cared

Until

Seventeen

Friends

All

over

Hair

blonde

Pants

Tight

Shirts

On

Shirts

`Off

No one knew you

Like your brother knew

You

No one missed you

As much as he

would

On the trip

You laughed

On the trip

You smiled

On the trip

To see the snow

You died

Chapter 4

Silence broke suddenly. Joey laughed. Histerically.

“Why are you laughing?” I asked with a smile.

“I hate silence,” he wispered in my ear, and then began to run. And for some reason I followed. I ran beside him laughing. Histerically. Everyone began to follow along. Also laughing like hyenas.It was fun. Rivetting, in fact. We felt free. We were free. Alone.

And then I remembered: were we really alone?

The first time I entered that fortest I did not feel alone. I felt like I was being watched. But this time something was different. I really was not alone, but I felt alone. So alone yet surrounded by people. Joey and I kept smiling at eachother. Something was different. I was different. I was happier. I was free. I was american. Ha, yes that was it.

I started to imagine eagles flying along our sides. They were not really there, I knew it, but I still saw them. But then I saw something else. Something I’ve seen before. A girl. Me. Just standing there in the woods, watching back at us. Like a ghost. Then I began to laugh again. What bull. That was not me. It’s just my head.

Chapter 3

As the trees began to endulge us, we were silent. No one saying a thing, but the breath of eachother’s lungs. I was still not done with my cig. My fag. My lover. My medicine. I had chosen not to bring any of my anti depressants. I was with friends, some that did not know I was SAD. Really sad. Only two of them knew: Joey and Steph. They were the only ones that knew that I once came to this forest for a different reason. They were the only ones that knew that I had tried to give up. But at that moment in which I was so close to giving up, something told me to stop. Something told me to not give up. So I left the forrest. Promised to never return.

I broke my promise. I broke it for them. For the thing that was pulling me back in.

Chapter 2

It was time to go. Something told me not to go, but I had to go, because at the same time something was pulling me in. Something made me have to go. The wind was blowing strong. The trees began to mosh. Like a mosh pit at a concert. Kind of like the mosh pit you would imagine at a Wavves concert. WAVES. A mosh pit that resembeled waves.

“Grab your bags, everyone,” said Steph grabbing her Care Bear duffle bag. I grabbed my cat shaped backpack, and my 80’s Barbie duffle bag, and began to walk. Slowly, but surely. I just followed. Walked behind everyone else. The grass was still squishy. Squishy and squishier as you walked closer. As though there was a pond we were about to step into.

I wanted to smoke, I brought two packs, just in case. But I knew it was not a good time to smoke. But my body was nervous. It needed one.

“Hey, do you guys mind if I smoke as we walk?” I asked.

Some of them stared at me like WTF no?

But Steph nodded in approval, and asked to join. So did Joey. He always smoked along with me. He and Steph were my smoke buddies. They were the only ones that actually approved. Kitty did not care, but she would never try one. It was not her thing. She was too much of a goody two shoes. I used to be a goody two shoes, when I still had a God. When I used to pray everynight. “Please God, don’t let anything baad happen to my family, my friends, my pets, and everything I care for,” is what I used to say. Sometimes when I was really scared I still said it. This reminded me of my parents. Of their preiching. Of how my father goes to church twice a week: once for himself, and once to makeup for me not going. He was afraid of me going to Hell. He was afraid of himself going to Hell. My whole family was afraid. That’s why they still believed. It was there ticket to heaven. It was there ticket to a longer life. A happier life. But what was my ticket? I did not need a ticket. I had my own faith. Faith in myself, and faith in the world. Though it was awful. Dreadful at times. But I still kept faith. I had to. It’s the reason I never called myself an athiest. I couldn’t. After years of believing something sticked. Believing in something stuck. Let it be myself, the world, or superstitions.

I kept thinking about what they qwere talking about. The clown. The suicides. I felt like everyone who had died in htat forest was watching us. I felt like the Clown was waiting for us. He had to be. But part of knew none of this made sense. How could they be watching us? How could he be real? How could he still be alive? How could I be so foolish to believe?

But sometimes faith attacks you. You believe the foolish, because something inside you forces you. Something inside of you pulls you in. Just like the forest was pulling me in. I believed in the forest. I knew it was there, but that’s different. That’s realism.

Let nothing bad happen.

Please let nothing bad happen.