I’m Getting Married!

I’m not quite sure where to start.

I never thought that I would actually get married. I knew it was a possibility, but it was never really a foreseeable future. It was always in a realm beyond my vision.

They say when you know you know, which I always thought was stupid, you know? It was a situation where I found the perfect woman and I had to rapidly shape myself into the man I was always supposed to be; responsible, reliable and ready for the next stage in life.

The first time we met was like walking out of a dark house when you’ve been sleeping all day. The bright light of sunset shocked my system and I became confused in my surroundings. How is it possible that the world is this bright?

She ordered whisky at 9:30 ….IN THE MORNING! Ok, so she was sick and apparently it’s good for the throat. Sounds like some real tomfoolery to me…

I knew straight away. I just felt it. A glimpse of the future. Like strolling into a patch of warm sunlight on a spring morning as the dew upon the grass is beginning to melt.

That’s all I’ll say for now. There’s love and fulfilment in my heart and I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life with anyone else.



Puppy Dog Eyes

I’m a spot in a puppy dog’s eye,

I, in eye, insignificant am I?

The tiny speck in the cutest face,

You notice not my rightful place.

I’m a nothing, if not the key,

A detail smaller than a flee.

But details add to masterpiece,

Piece by piece and none the least.

Have you seen what draws the spots?

The mystic pen that draws in dots?

The ink that hides reality,

Designed by divine majesty

.

I’m a detail, nothing more.

To show creations biggest flaw.

That normal isn’t that at all,

It’s overwhelming art and awe.

Written by Randall Evans.

Fashionable

It was a mid-morning start, which meant the traffic was a little lighter and the gangs of retirees were taking over the cafes. I pulled up next to a trendy family car – Upper middle class.

chatillon-car-graveyard-abandoned-cars-cemetery-belgium-fb

I couldn’t see the driver. All I could see was the left arm of the passenger.

The wrist was decorated with the cuffs of a women’s power suit and a gold bracelet that was probably purchased in 1993. The bony hand, barely visible through the window tint, was worn and stressed.

Why isn’t she at work? It’s past 10…

Why wasn’t this independent hand on the steering wheel?

She had probably just come from the doctors. An elbow so casually, so… tensely resting on the window could only mean bad news. Her husband, or dare I say, old friend who’s always loved her but never been able to crack through her tough exterior, had driven her for moral support.

He left his car at hers because she’d rather be dead being seen in his bomb.

What’s the point? I mean, what’s the point of that gold bracelet? It doesn’t impress me much. I wonder if she was rubbing it in her anxiety as the doctor told her the news.

I turn up the music in my car. I wonder if I do it to impress the retirees with amazing heavy metal.

The status symbol is too heavy. It becomes a chain… A metal chain that pulls her along.

What hit her the most in her appointment? The realisation that she’s going to die, or the realisation that she’d wasted her life.

The car, the chain, the suit, the nail polish…

The skin, the muscles, the bones…

The heart.

Let’s strip it all away.

She’s protecting herself. The little girl she once was… She was hurt by the world. So, she put on her armor. She wasn’t enough just being a shining light, a pure spirit. She needed to project and deflect. If she fails, and she will, it’s because of the suit, the chain, the car, the lack of skills… never because of who she is.

She’s not a failure… She’s not…

Written by Randall Evans

This is The Vile Mint

 

Fashionable

 

Joshologue #2

There are too many elephants in my room.

I’m talking to myself again. The fact that we have two ears and one mouth means that what we say about ourselves is amplified exponentially until it explodes in our minds. The feedback of actualization.

Part of the reason I talk to myself is to hear my own voice. I know that must sound strange, but that’s how our voices sound when we hear them; Strange. Haven’t you ever heard your voice on a recording and asked, ‘Is that what I sound like?’

I bet you can’t even remember the last time you heard your own voice when no one else could.

After listening to myself I realized that my voice doesn’t belong to me.

The voices are coming from the elephants.

The speak on my behalf as I rush to cover them with hay. The more I hide them, the bigger they become.

When I try to hide things about myself I become like a drunk man trying to present himself sober to enter a bar. What I’m hiding becomes obvious.

But then the people watching ask the most important question of all:

“Why does he want to be in the bar so desperately?”

– By Randall Evans.

Reflection Distorts Desired Delusions

I lay awake as the silence takes hold.
It gets louder and louder.
I beg for a distraction.
Reflection distorts desired delusions.

Reflections

What time is is? I’ll check my phone. I’ll check my notifications. I’ll check my newsfeed. I’ll check my email.

I’ll check out.

My mind is a rapid when it should be a lake.

If I let the waters settle… They might begin to boil… They have to keep flowing…

Reflection distorts desired delusions.

How many years has it been since I left school?

Why haven’t I achieved what I thought I would.

I remember saying that I would have a family by 23… At 25 I can pass that one off as naïvety.

What time is it?

Things will get better… I know they will… I just know it…

My mind is an ocean when it should be rain.

Every drop that hits the ground is acceptance of reality.

Every drop that falls fills the bucket labeled ‘Failure’.

I’ll staple my eyes shut if I have to.

Reflection distorts desired delusions.

It’s about travel… that’s it… And… Experience! Sadness is an experience none of these people can fathom! They don’t know pain! They don’t know suffering! They are just sheep! Sheep living in their digital playgrounds! Never thinking! Never feeling!

What time is it ?

What time?

What’s the time?

The silence is loud. My mind is sleepwalking when it should be in asleep.

It’s all ok. Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life. I’m going to live for me and be free.

Reflection distorts desired delusions.

 

This is The Vile Mint.