I tumbled through infinity for what seemed like hours. It actually only lasted 10 minutes. The police showed up shortly afterward, to my rescue I suppose. I had entry and exit holes, as well as a punctured right lung with a fractured rib. I was rushed to the hospital in critical condition, and was near respiratory arrest. They operated on me immediately. The police questioned me about why the cars were chasing me, and what my attacker looked like.
I explained the truth. I met them on a forum online, and we all liked computers. I was going to Laura Hernandez's house to meet with some other members of the forum to play a game. She then proceeded to attack, each of the other people that decided to meet there. They had a basement filled with highly illegal equipment and were hacking into government agencies. I was chased by Chris, Vince and Kenneth. I tried to get away in my car, but I was chased down by Laura. It was on the side of the road that she explained to me her scapegoat plan for me. She then shot Kenneth, and I. "Taking you as low as you go, Laura." I described to them her car, and license plate. I had committed them to memory a long time before we met. But they certainly didn't know that. I gave them an address for one of the front domains that Kenneth was using to steal social security numbers. They took that and ran far away from me. That was the truth for them, and now the truth for me. I was in the hospital for a week, and many more in pain.
My friends asked me many of the expected questions. What happened? Why are you in the hospital? I told them that I got into a car accident, and that I had a piece of metal puncture my lung. They'll never know the real story, sadly. The only way it'll work is if I remain a shadow. After I recuperated, I lived my life as normally as I could. Rebuilding and securing the network that was so fatally compromised, not on the system side, but on the user side. Six months later, I'm perfectly okay.
My terminal prompt in front of me, my work continues as before. Weaving in and out of networks, finding the patched up holes and cracking through them again. I'm the top of my game.
~TerminalMessage--F:Relinquished$: Hey Phil, How's the lung?
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Chapter 15' Death
I sat in my car pondering my next move. I saw the BMW switch on it's hazards as it came up behind me. That was smart. Slightly more inconspicuous. To my surprise, to figures got out of the BMW. The driver had long brunette hair. Laura. The passenger was Kenneth. Laura walked up to my door, and grabbed the handle. I didn't move, didn't flinch. I knew the door was locked. She pulled out a 9MM Glock from her hip and tapped the window with it. She smiled menacingly. I laughed at her, and unlocked the door.
"Crazy bitch."
I stepped out of the car slowly, taking my time. The air was crisp outside. I loved the taste, the smell, the feeling of fresh air. It cooled the sweat on my neck. Laura kept her back to the traffic, shielding them from the view of the gun now pointed at my chest. Even if she didn't, it was too dark for them to see. Not to mention how far away we were from the road itself. As I stepped, dried leaves crunched under my boots. They say that in the minutes before your death, you have flashback memories of your life.
"Easy now, James. You're lucky I've decided to give you a couple minutes to live. I'm disappointed in you, James." She said mocking my expression from in the basement. "I thought you'd be smart enough to see what you were walking right into. Thats okay, we all make mistakes."
"Just like your parents I suppose." I laughed at my own joke, and my humor in the face of my death. Well if I was going to go, I was going to go as I lived. I thought.
The pistol hit me right above my upper lip, knocking me back. I was greeted by the metallic taste of my own blood. I licked the wound, as if to mock her hit. The pain was blinding, but I stood as tall as I could. Through the windows of my car, I could hear Achilles Last Stand. I smiled at that.
"Well, since your going to die anyway, I might as well rub it in your face." She said with malice.
"Yeah. Don't want me haunting you after I'm dead, asking why or how... Hah."
"We were using your servers to siphon money from various government organizations and credit lines. We switched your system around so you wouldn't be able to notice let alone act on it. All it took was that password you handed me yourself. We've been watching your network for a while, trying to find out it's owner."
"Hahaha. I get it, a vampire can only enter your home if you invite it in right? Very clever."
"I'm glad you enjoyed that. We've already made the necessary arrangements to have you take the fall for Chris' death. Vince should've bled out by now too." She was stone cold. I knew what she was now.
"Bled out?" This grabbed my attention.
"Stab wounds. Thanks for the fingerprints, by the way. We'll be extracting the ones you left on your steering wheel." Laura's ease and calm were unsettling.
"I see. They didn't know what was going on either..."
"That was my idea, knocking them out. Gotta tie up all the loose ends right James?" Ken chimed in. Obviously proud of himself. I can see now why it was so easy to put him down only the day before. Laura leaned over and kissed Ken hard. Shoving her tongue down his throat, putting his hand on her breast. They broke apart finally, just in time for me to realize the opportunity I had missed.
"Right. I guess I'm the last one huh?" I smiled. And started to laugh.
"Hahahahaha.. Hahaha." I doubled over and began laughing almost uncontrollably.
"Shut your fucking mouth." Laura was getting angry.
She held up the gun to my head. My eyes did not leave hers. She was waiting for me to step down. I will not. This is after all, my last stand. I heard the gun fire. I waited for my death. For the recording to stop. Everything to end. I heard Ken fall to the ground. I saw his stunned expression. He obviously never expected it either. He lay on the ground, motionless.
"How's that for an ending?" She asked, as she kissed me hard like she did in the House. She pushed herself onto me. And as she did this, I grabbed her gun arm and twisted it around. I pushed it up to make sure it hurt her. She started to grind against me.
"How's that feel? Good?" She asked sensually.
"I only make mistakes once." I said to her, and dislocated her arm with a crack.
Her scream of pain was drowned out by a gunshot. My ear rang. I felt a warm tingling sensation.
I fell onto my back, as she ran to get into the BMW. I heard it rev up and speed off.
And thats how I got here.
The air is so crisp. I can hear the whoosh of the cars going by. There are so many stars in the sky tonight.
And I wonder to myself, will I ever be a star and hang high in the sky for all to see?
I realize after all this time. What I really am, is human. Something I never wanted to admit or accept.
Always wishing that I was something more. It's too bad I didn't realize that earlier.
Because now... Now I am No One. No One at all.
"Crazy bitch."
I stepped out of the car slowly, taking my time. The air was crisp outside. I loved the taste, the smell, the feeling of fresh air. It cooled the sweat on my neck. Laura kept her back to the traffic, shielding them from the view of the gun now pointed at my chest. Even if she didn't, it was too dark for them to see. Not to mention how far away we were from the road itself. As I stepped, dried leaves crunched under my boots. They say that in the minutes before your death, you have flashback memories of your life.
"Easy now, James. You're lucky I've decided to give you a couple minutes to live. I'm disappointed in you, James." She said mocking my expression from in the basement. "I thought you'd be smart enough to see what you were walking right into. Thats okay, we all make mistakes."
"Just like your parents I suppose." I laughed at my own joke, and my humor in the face of my death. Well if I was going to go, I was going to go as I lived. I thought.
The pistol hit me right above my upper lip, knocking me back. I was greeted by the metallic taste of my own blood. I licked the wound, as if to mock her hit. The pain was blinding, but I stood as tall as I could. Through the windows of my car, I could hear Achilles Last Stand. I smiled at that.
"Well, since your going to die anyway, I might as well rub it in your face." She said with malice.
"Yeah. Don't want me haunting you after I'm dead, asking why or how... Hah."
"We were using your servers to siphon money from various government organizations and credit lines. We switched your system around so you wouldn't be able to notice let alone act on it. All it took was that password you handed me yourself. We've been watching your network for a while, trying to find out it's owner."
"Hahaha. I get it, a vampire can only enter your home if you invite it in right? Very clever."
"I'm glad you enjoyed that. We've already made the necessary arrangements to have you take the fall for Chris' death. Vince should've bled out by now too." She was stone cold. I knew what she was now.
"Bled out?" This grabbed my attention.
"Stab wounds. Thanks for the fingerprints, by the way. We'll be extracting the ones you left on your steering wheel." Laura's ease and calm were unsettling.
"I see. They didn't know what was going on either..."
"That was my idea, knocking them out. Gotta tie up all the loose ends right James?" Ken chimed in. Obviously proud of himself. I can see now why it was so easy to put him down only the day before. Laura leaned over and kissed Ken hard. Shoving her tongue down his throat, putting his hand on her breast. They broke apart finally, just in time for me to realize the opportunity I had missed.
"Right. I guess I'm the last one huh?" I smiled. And started to laugh.
"Hahahahaha.. Hahaha." I doubled over and began laughing almost uncontrollably.
"Shut your fucking mouth." Laura was getting angry.
She held up the gun to my head. My eyes did not leave hers. She was waiting for me to step down. I will not. This is after all, my last stand. I heard the gun fire. I waited for my death. For the recording to stop. Everything to end. I heard Ken fall to the ground. I saw his stunned expression. He obviously never expected it either. He lay on the ground, motionless.
"How's that for an ending?" She asked, as she kissed me hard like she did in the House. She pushed herself onto me. And as she did this, I grabbed her gun arm and twisted it around. I pushed it up to make sure it hurt her. She started to grind against me.
"How's that feel? Good?" She asked sensually.
"I only make mistakes once." I said to her, and dislocated her arm with a crack.
Her scream of pain was drowned out by a gunshot. My ear rang. I felt a warm tingling sensation.
I fell onto my back, as she ran to get into the BMW. I heard it rev up and speed off.
And thats how I got here.
The air is so crisp. I can hear the whoosh of the cars going by. There are so many stars in the sky tonight.
And I wonder to myself, will I ever be a star and hang high in the sky for all to see?
I realize after all this time. What I really am, is human. Something I never wanted to admit or accept.
Always wishing that I was something more. It's too bad I didn't realize that earlier.
Because now... Now I am No One. No One at all.
Chapter 14' Personal Jesus
"You have to be your own personal Jesus. The only person you can always save is yourself." They say that no matter how long you run, your shadow will catch you. I believe that now, more than ever. My shadow is chasing me right now. My iPod, as if aware of the situation, came to life with Low by Foo Fighters. Perfect. The cars approached quickly, and I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. 90, 100... I didn't start my shift set correctly, and my car wasn't accelerating fast enough. They had a tremendous lead, probably doing 120 or so. Those engines at least doubled mine in horsepower. My car lurched forward as the Audi contacted by bumper. My transmission clanked loudly as it absorbed my downshift into Third gear. At 100+ MPH I could've easily blew my transmission out of my car, but I didn't have a choice. My engine drowned out all sound with it's roar. A lion letting it's presence known.
"Taking you as low as you go... As low as you go" I screamed the lyrics as dodged another attack from the Audi. My attackers came on either side of me to prepare to box me in. I saw the move, hard braked and swung around to the left of the BMW. The cars clipped each other, but stabilized to my dismay. I took this time to try and mash my foot farther into the floor trying to gain every since ounce of torque and horsepower from my engine. I had one last resort, but I had to use it wisely. One beautiful thing about having a turbocharged car, is the ability to add a nitrous fogger system to each cylinder without changing the head more than once.
I flew up Hutchinson North Parkway with speed I've never seen or even dared before. I hit the Orchard Beach bridge, and almost lost the car at 120 MPH. I knew what was coming up next, and it was my only chance at near escape. Low finished at the perfect time, and was replaced with Jerry Was A Race Car Driver. Our tires screeched as we made the sharp turn. My rear tires slid towards my passenger side, and I heard the suspension crunch down trying to keep my car upright. I saw a flash of bright red in my rear view mirror. I didn't have time to think about what it was, because the BMW was bearing down on me. It's body contacted my car's and sparks flew. My driver side mirror flew off of my car crackling and raining down on my road behind me. A quick glance in my rear view showed the Audi everywhere, flames engulfing it's now deceased driver. Cars were stopped everywhere. It was witness hell.
Sorry, Chris. You weren't a bad guy. Or maybe you were. My car's violent vibration told me that destruction was imminent. I ejected the small red button that was hidden inside my console. And pressed it. My engine screamed and whined loudly as my car exploded with speed. 130, 140....My speedometer could no longer help me. The BMW could not immediately accelerate to this speed. It lurched left and right, as if the wind was knocking in to my car trying to murder me. The other cars on the road swerved out of my way. The Beemer was at least a half mile in my rear view mirror as I made the sharp turn onto Interstate 95 North. This is my getaway. Thats when my faithful engine could not take any more, and as I used the last 10% of my nitrous supply to re-accelerate my engine seized it's run. I watched it's RPMs drop to zero, as my hope fell in the same manner. I lost my steering at 90 MPH, and I knew my brakes would be next. I slammed my foot down. My tires screeched loudly as they struggled to grip the cracked asphalt.
My cell phone started to chime as I turned straight towards the forested area by the highway. Max was calling. I answered the phone. "Max, things have just gone crazy. I can't fucking talk right now, but cover for me. Call whoever to do it." I didn't give him a chance to answer. I had to face whoever was driving that car, to make my escape. My car came to a stop right before the tree line, and that was all I needed. I saw the Beemer fly up the ramp. I shut off my lights and hoped that this would go the easy way. "Fucking bloody hell." The Beemer turned directly at me. The HID headlights mocked my slain lion. "Rest in peace. I hope I won't join you."
"Taking you as low as you go... As low as you go" I screamed the lyrics as dodged another attack from the Audi. My attackers came on either side of me to prepare to box me in. I saw the move, hard braked and swung around to the left of the BMW. The cars clipped each other, but stabilized to my dismay. I took this time to try and mash my foot farther into the floor trying to gain every since ounce of torque and horsepower from my engine. I had one last resort, but I had to use it wisely. One beautiful thing about having a turbocharged car, is the ability to add a nitrous fogger system to each cylinder without changing the head more than once.
I flew up Hutchinson North Parkway with speed I've never seen or even dared before. I hit the Orchard Beach bridge, and almost lost the car at 120 MPH. I knew what was coming up next, and it was my only chance at near escape. Low finished at the perfect time, and was replaced with Jerry Was A Race Car Driver. Our tires screeched as we made the sharp turn. My rear tires slid towards my passenger side, and I heard the suspension crunch down trying to keep my car upright. I saw a flash of bright red in my rear view mirror. I didn't have time to think about what it was, because the BMW was bearing down on me. It's body contacted my car's and sparks flew. My driver side mirror flew off of my car crackling and raining down on my road behind me. A quick glance in my rear view showed the Audi everywhere, flames engulfing it's now deceased driver. Cars were stopped everywhere. It was witness hell.
Sorry, Chris. You weren't a bad guy. Or maybe you were. My car's violent vibration told me that destruction was imminent. I ejected the small red button that was hidden inside my console. And pressed it. My engine screamed and whined loudly as my car exploded with speed. 130, 140....My speedometer could no longer help me. The BMW could not immediately accelerate to this speed. It lurched left and right, as if the wind was knocking in to my car trying to murder me. The other cars on the road swerved out of my way. The Beemer was at least a half mile in my rear view mirror as I made the sharp turn onto Interstate 95 North. This is my getaway. Thats when my faithful engine could not take any more, and as I used the last 10% of my nitrous supply to re-accelerate my engine seized it's run. I watched it's RPMs drop to zero, as my hope fell in the same manner. I lost my steering at 90 MPH, and I knew my brakes would be next. I slammed my foot down. My tires screeched loudly as they struggled to grip the cracked asphalt.
My cell phone started to chime as I turned straight towards the forested area by the highway. Max was calling. I answered the phone. "Max, things have just gone crazy. I can't fucking talk right now, but cover for me. Call whoever to do it." I didn't give him a chance to answer. I had to face whoever was driving that car, to make my escape. My car came to a stop right before the tree line, and that was all I needed. I saw the Beemer fly up the ramp. I shut off my lights and hoped that this would go the easy way. "Fucking bloody hell." The Beemer turned directly at me. The HID headlights mocked my slain lion. "Rest in peace. I hope I won't join you."
Monday, January 28, 2008
Chapter 13' Or so I thought.
"In times of peril, above all remember that you aren't really human. It'll get you out of anything." I wish this were as easy as it sounds. I awoke to the smell of blood, and a sharp pain the in back of my head and nose. Someone had hit me in the nose while I was asleep. How nice. Before I chose to open my eyes and alert my captors of my consciousness, I began to use my senses as best I could to figure this situation out. My hands were tied behind my back behind the chair as expected. My legs were not bound though. Mistake. I couldn't smell anything, I could however feel the heat from lamps on my face.
I opened my eyes...
"Nice of you to wake up, now hurry and grab your lunch or you'll be late for school." Ken joked.
"Glad to see that you're still so predictable Ken." His smile immediately dropped.
"Even when all of the odds in this situation are against you, you still choose to taunt me?"
"It's one of my redeeming qualities. Otherwise, I'd just be a complete asshole."
His movement was swift over to me, smashing me in the jaw with his left fist. Truth to be told, I didn't see it coming. It was thrilling. I wasn't afraid of dying, but just dying before I got to pay him back for that punch.
"Now, it's time for business. Who do you work for?"
"Excuse me..?" I was honestly, incredulous at this accusation. Mostly because I was independent in my operations, other than this one.
"We got word, that there is a snitch high up in the circles. Someone that has infiltrated important networks because of FBI Informant status."
"Where'd you get this word from?"
Another smash to my face. This one hit high on my cheekbone.
"I ask the questions here asshole."
"Ken, you've already committed yourself to a death sentence by doing that."
He punched me dead in between my lungs, knocking the wind right out of me. He wasn't weak admittedly. I choked and tried to control my breathing again. He came closer to me, a half a foot from my face.
"I'm in control here. Not you." He said, with his snake like tension.
My movement was fluid and swift, I kicked him sideways in the knee buckling him down. Then I stood up and kicked him in the chest. He flew onto his back stunned. He attempted to get back up, and I kicked him right in the diaphragm. He wheezed on the dingy floor of the basement I could now make out.
"I'm sorry, were you saying something?" I said, to his squirming body.
"Happy now Ken?" Alex stood behind the row of bright spotlights.
"I'm disappointed in you, Alex."
She looked at me with disappointment.
"I'm sorry James. But as it turns out I needed you in a more as an escape utility than a companion. And my name really is Laura. Alex was just a paper trail. Though, call me whatever. You'll be dead soon anyway."
"Maybe." I said as I flipped the chair around, and freed my hands.
And with that, I kicked Ken once more in his side with enough force to lift him off the ground and across the floor.
"Stop that would you? I'm going to need him to help clean you up off the floor."
I felt the wind rush by me, from the baseball bat that narrowly missed my head. I kicked her across the legs as she moved by me, and she fell to the ground.
"Crazy bitch."
It was expected, that I was blinded through the entire situation. That it was all there is to it. I could've seen their manipulation, but I chose to take a blind eye to it. To protect myself, and somewhat my ego I suppose.
"James WAIT!" Laura screamed as I ran out of the door of the basement room.
It was a door on the other side of the basement, I failed to notice during my visits. I've got Laura to blame for that. I came into the main workstation room, to see Chris sitting at his chair.
"Sorry James, Ken's orders."
He began to get up as I ran towards the dusty hardwood stairs. I was upstairs much quicker than he was. I grabbed the knob for the large black door but it did not budge. I checked for locking devices. I found nothing but the industrial doorknob. I looked around. The door had two large windows around it, just big enough for me. I ripped open the window just as Chris was upstairs.
I jumped out of it, I didn't have a chance to think. I landed in a rose bush, Of course, the irony was beautiful for that one. The thorns tore at my skin as I freed myself from the bush. I was getting really dizzy from the concussion that I no doubt had gotten from the blow to my head.
The black door opened behind me as I got to the sidewalk. Chris, Ken and Vince all jumped down the stairs after me. It didn't take me much time to figure out what was going to happen next if I didn't get out of there. They could make me disappear, really easily. And put the blame on someone innocent. Neither of which I wanted. I ran, as fast as I could. Letting the adrenaline take it's course in curing my pain. Ignoring the burning in all of my muscles. The pounding in my head. Letting everything melt, as I ran for my life. Literally.
Vince was the only one who followed, which I found odd but didn't have time to ponder too much. I cut through fences and yards trying to lose him. But the man was in tip top shape. More so than I was, and if I kept this up, I would lose. I had no choice for my next move. I cut across through a Burger King parking lot, right onto Mayflower. Vince was behind me no more than a block. I grabbed my key and smashed it into the lock as fast as I could. Closed the door, locked it as my engine roared to life. Vince got to my car trying to smash the window. Wrong move. I slammed the car into reverse and floored it. I managed to swing the car around and knock him over.
I switched my car into first gear, and took off as fast as I possibly could. I intentionally parked my car as close to the highway as possible so that if I had to make a fast getaway, I could. I dug my foot down as far as it would possibly go. My car rocketing at the highway. I tried to gather myself as best as possible, but the adrenaline in my blood would not allow. My hands were shaking. I was breathing fast. Uncontrollably fast. But this was the adrenaline high I was so used to. So ready for. I flew onto the highway with extreme speed, and almost lost control of the car. "I made it..." I said to myself with a sigh of relief.
I slowed down a bit to avoid attention from the police. That would be the last thing I needed, since they were no doubt setting up a police warrant for my arrest. I knew this game, I knew these people. But they were too predictable. I peered in all of my mirrors cautiously. All I needed to do was get to my computer, and get them before them before they got me. Two cars riding the left and right lanes were closing real fast on me. The blue HID lights told me one car was Chris'. The signature of the other car told me it had to be Laura's BMW. "It's going to be a long night." I said to myself, as my car roared. Ready for the coming fight.
I opened my eyes...
"Nice of you to wake up, now hurry and grab your lunch or you'll be late for school." Ken joked.
"Glad to see that you're still so predictable Ken." His smile immediately dropped.
"Even when all of the odds in this situation are against you, you still choose to taunt me?"
"It's one of my redeeming qualities. Otherwise, I'd just be a complete asshole."
His movement was swift over to me, smashing me in the jaw with his left fist. Truth to be told, I didn't see it coming. It was thrilling. I wasn't afraid of dying, but just dying before I got to pay him back for that punch.
"Now, it's time for business. Who do you work for?"
"Excuse me..?" I was honestly, incredulous at this accusation. Mostly because I was independent in my operations, other than this one.
"We got word, that there is a snitch high up in the circles. Someone that has infiltrated important networks because of FBI Informant status."
"Where'd you get this word from?"
Another smash to my face. This one hit high on my cheekbone.
"I ask the questions here asshole."
"Ken, you've already committed yourself to a death sentence by doing that."
He punched me dead in between my lungs, knocking the wind right out of me. He wasn't weak admittedly. I choked and tried to control my breathing again. He came closer to me, a half a foot from my face.
"I'm in control here. Not you." He said, with his snake like tension.
My movement was fluid and swift, I kicked him sideways in the knee buckling him down. Then I stood up and kicked him in the chest. He flew onto his back stunned. He attempted to get back up, and I kicked him right in the diaphragm. He wheezed on the dingy floor of the basement I could now make out.
"I'm sorry, were you saying something?" I said, to his squirming body.
"Happy now Ken?" Alex stood behind the row of bright spotlights.
"I'm disappointed in you, Alex."
She looked at me with disappointment.
"I'm sorry James. But as it turns out I needed you in a more as an escape utility than a companion. And my name really is Laura. Alex was just a paper trail. Though, call me whatever. You'll be dead soon anyway."
"Maybe." I said as I flipped the chair around, and freed my hands.
And with that, I kicked Ken once more in his side with enough force to lift him off the ground and across the floor.
"Stop that would you? I'm going to need him to help clean you up off the floor."
I felt the wind rush by me, from the baseball bat that narrowly missed my head. I kicked her across the legs as she moved by me, and she fell to the ground.
"Crazy bitch."
It was expected, that I was blinded through the entire situation. That it was all there is to it. I could've seen their manipulation, but I chose to take a blind eye to it. To protect myself, and somewhat my ego I suppose.
"James WAIT!" Laura screamed as I ran out of the door of the basement room.
It was a door on the other side of the basement, I failed to notice during my visits. I've got Laura to blame for that. I came into the main workstation room, to see Chris sitting at his chair.
"Sorry James, Ken's orders."
He began to get up as I ran towards the dusty hardwood stairs. I was upstairs much quicker than he was. I grabbed the knob for the large black door but it did not budge. I checked for locking devices. I found nothing but the industrial doorknob. I looked around. The door had two large windows around it, just big enough for me. I ripped open the window just as Chris was upstairs.
I jumped out of it, I didn't have a chance to think. I landed in a rose bush, Of course, the irony was beautiful for that one. The thorns tore at my skin as I freed myself from the bush. I was getting really dizzy from the concussion that I no doubt had gotten from the blow to my head.
The black door opened behind me as I got to the sidewalk. Chris, Ken and Vince all jumped down the stairs after me. It didn't take me much time to figure out what was going to happen next if I didn't get out of there. They could make me disappear, really easily. And put the blame on someone innocent. Neither of which I wanted. I ran, as fast as I could. Letting the adrenaline take it's course in curing my pain. Ignoring the burning in all of my muscles. The pounding in my head. Letting everything melt, as I ran for my life. Literally.
Vince was the only one who followed, which I found odd but didn't have time to ponder too much. I cut through fences and yards trying to lose him. But the man was in tip top shape. More so than I was, and if I kept this up, I would lose. I had no choice for my next move. I cut across through a Burger King parking lot, right onto Mayflower. Vince was behind me no more than a block. I grabbed my key and smashed it into the lock as fast as I could. Closed the door, locked it as my engine roared to life. Vince got to my car trying to smash the window. Wrong move. I slammed the car into reverse and floored it. I managed to swing the car around and knock him over.
I switched my car into first gear, and took off as fast as I possibly could. I intentionally parked my car as close to the highway as possible so that if I had to make a fast getaway, I could. I dug my foot down as far as it would possibly go. My car rocketing at the highway. I tried to gather myself as best as possible, but the adrenaline in my blood would not allow. My hands were shaking. I was breathing fast. Uncontrollably fast. But this was the adrenaline high I was so used to. So ready for. I flew onto the highway with extreme speed, and almost lost control of the car. "I made it..." I said to myself with a sigh of relief.
I slowed down a bit to avoid attention from the police. That would be the last thing I needed, since they were no doubt setting up a police warrant for my arrest. I knew this game, I knew these people. But they were too predictable. I peered in all of my mirrors cautiously. All I needed to do was get to my computer, and get them before them before they got me. Two cars riding the left and right lanes were closing real fast on me. The blue HID lights told me one car was Chris'. The signature of the other car told me it had to be Laura's BMW. "It's going to be a long night." I said to myself, as my car roared. Ready for the coming fight.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Chapter 12' Satisfaction
(Sorry for the long interval in between chapters. Life has been weird recently. Regardless, onward we go.)
"Always stay in focus... If you lose focus, you'll lose your life." Inspirational, but hard to follow. Chris was the first to leave the workstations. He relocated to the other side of the room, and started setting up the soldering equipment. Probably creating a new device for our malice. I glanced back at my workstation. The clock read 5:18 PM. Time to return to my normal life. I pushed my chair behind me, and stood up. Right as I did, I bumped into Laura.. or Alex.. or who ever she was then. I felt her hands slide down my chest as I got up. My thoughts immediately shifted off returning to work.
"Follow." She whispered into my ear.
I saw her glance at her cell phone for a moment, or.. maybe she didn't.
We walked upstairs, and the creaky wooden stairs moaned in agony of our weight. I followed her up the dark red carpet staircase into the dark upstairs of this house.
Pause.
There are many times in my life, that I wish I was born without a sex drive at all. It's quite easily the last connection I have to being truly human. All it has done is blinded me at the worst times, while teasing me with impulse. Sex is disgustingly impulsive, and wrong in my cognitive brain. Everything tells me that, but my body does not let my brain free of it's chains. It's the price we pay to have the two mated together.
Play.
This house was unknown to me completely, and here I was following a girl that I didn't know at all up a flight of stairs into darkness. It was thrilling in every way. We reached the top of the carpet stairs with ease. A bright orange streetlight shown in the window of the second story bedroom. The room though dark, was mostly empty. There was a couch that simply did not fit with the other seemingly unused items in the room. It was black from what I could see, felt material. Next to it, a dusty hardwood end table, with an old looking gold base lamp. There was a beat up area rug underneath these items, on top of a very dark hardwood floor. Just as I was finishing my processing of the room, she kissed me. Hard. I could feel her leg wrap around me as she pulled me against her.
Something, from somewhere told me something was wrong. I can't tell you what, because right then, right there my brain wasn't functioning. I pushed her down onto the couch, to assert myself again. I moved on top of her, against my better judgement. And started to unbutton the loose black dress shirt she was wearing. I kissed her neck as I removed her bra strap. The red silk bra fell off her body, effortlessly. And then I heard her whisper.
"I'm sorry..."
The crushing blow to the back of my head blinded me in the next moment. The shooting pain, nausea and then unconsciousness.
"Always stay in focus... If you lose focus, you'll lose your life." Inspirational, but hard to follow. Chris was the first to leave the workstations. He relocated to the other side of the room, and started setting up the soldering equipment. Probably creating a new device for our malice. I glanced back at my workstation. The clock read 5:18 PM. Time to return to my normal life. I pushed my chair behind me, and stood up. Right as I did, I bumped into Laura.. or Alex.. or who ever she was then. I felt her hands slide down my chest as I got up. My thoughts immediately shifted off returning to work.
"Follow." She whispered into my ear.
I saw her glance at her cell phone for a moment, or.. maybe she didn't.
We walked upstairs, and the creaky wooden stairs moaned in agony of our weight. I followed her up the dark red carpet staircase into the dark upstairs of this house.
Pause.
There are many times in my life, that I wish I was born without a sex drive at all. It's quite easily the last connection I have to being truly human. All it has done is blinded me at the worst times, while teasing me with impulse. Sex is disgustingly impulsive, and wrong in my cognitive brain. Everything tells me that, but my body does not let my brain free of it's chains. It's the price we pay to have the two mated together.
Play.
This house was unknown to me completely, and here I was following a girl that I didn't know at all up a flight of stairs into darkness. It was thrilling in every way. We reached the top of the carpet stairs with ease. A bright orange streetlight shown in the window of the second story bedroom. The room though dark, was mostly empty. There was a couch that simply did not fit with the other seemingly unused items in the room. It was black from what I could see, felt material. Next to it, a dusty hardwood end table, with an old looking gold base lamp. There was a beat up area rug underneath these items, on top of a very dark hardwood floor. Just as I was finishing my processing of the room, she kissed me. Hard. I could feel her leg wrap around me as she pulled me against her.
Something, from somewhere told me something was wrong. I can't tell you what, because right then, right there my brain wasn't functioning. I pushed her down onto the couch, to assert myself again. I moved on top of her, against my better judgement. And started to unbutton the loose black dress shirt she was wearing. I kissed her neck as I removed her bra strap. The red silk bra fell off her body, effortlessly. And then I heard her whisper.
"I'm sorry..."
The crushing blow to the back of my head blinded me in the next moment. The shooting pain, nausea and then unconsciousness.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Chapter 11 Hypocrite.
(Back from a short Winter vacation hiatus.)
"The most important rule about this game. Is knowing yourself, everything else comes naturally." I love that one. The musty foyer of the house was just as it was last time. Empty. Kind of like me. I removed my trusty leather jacket and slung it over my shoulder as I walked down the hardwood stairs. Their creaks from my weight alerted the dwellers of the basement to my presence.
"Nice of you to be on time, James."
"Anytime, Laura."
"I can't say I'm very surprised, you make the perfect hypocrite after all."
She came dangerously close to me, and whispered in my ear. Her voice, even as a whisper was enticing.
"Don't slip up, and maybe you'll get to know a little more about me."
The words slid off her tongue with more sensuality then I was used to.
"Have a little faith, Laura." I whispered back into her ear, with equal sensuality. I had proven that I was once again, in duality of character. She walked back to her desk and resumed her work preparing the presentation for the meeting.
I peered around at the other members of our ramshackle squad, to find Vince looking quite destroyed. They say drugs are a tough game, and his personality fit perfectly as vulnerable to them. Chris was hard at work in several command line windows. I wondered what he was working on. Gino was absent from our meeting tonight, probably working or with his family. I could appreciate his duality. Kenneth was sulking at his workstation, looking like we'd interrupted him from something important. The great part of being able to play multiple roles, is that you're never absent from a real life. None of us fit the normal stereotype of an average hacker. We were the social elites of our own group. None of us were dominated by our abilities, we dominated because of our abilities.
I sat on a bar stool near the large assortment of radio frequency jamming equipment. Alex arose from her chair after a couple finishing adjustments, and gathered everyone's attention. It wasn't hard for her. She certainly hadn't lost mine.
"Ok guys, we had a pretty nasty problem today. Our contact from Philadelphia was uploading the details for an illegal wiretap in Oregon. He failed to encrypt the files correctly, and we believe to have leaked our job information to several servers."
"Laura, I don't see a problem here. Take down the servers." Said Ken, naturally pompous.
"It's too bad one of them is a AES-256 Encrypted server out of a Private Investigator's agency in Langley. That could mean extraordinarily bad news for us, if it's the wrong one."
She played her role as Laura flawlessly. She could just as well be just as empty as I am. Acting for the cameras, so to speak.
"What's the plan, L?" Chris asked, almost eager.
"I thought you'd never ask." And on that note, she brought up a grid of map. On blue and white interlaced line map, there was a red dot simply labeled. "Target."
"Straight and to the point. I like it." I said, and smiled her way.
"I thought you would, Soul. We're going to take down the agency though a 4 way DoS attack, but only after destroying that bit of data that got stolen from us." I love when a woman could take control of an op, assert herself on the team.
"W-Wh-W-What?" Vince looked up from his blank screen, and at Alex wide-eyed. He was trembling.
"Vince, can you handle being here right now?" I asked. I couldn't stand this very much longer.
"Y-Y-eah." And turned back to the blank screen.
"I'm officially taking Vince's slot for this op. I'm not putting my ass on the line, for some junkie to get me thrown in jail. Vince, get up. Here's 15 bucks. Get a cab home, would you?" I had run out of patience.
"O-ok." He replied. Still trembling.
"Alright then. Chris, you're in charge of deleting that data. Wipe it clean. Got it?"
He nodded his approval. And then she turned to me.
"Listen stud. Don't go all lone wolf on me here huh? I need you to gather the spiders from OOL339 and attack the office on my mark. Ok?"
"No problem, Boss Lady." I grinned.
"Ken, we already went over what you're doing. OOL231 spiders, same time as Soul. I'll be hitting with VER3255 spiders. Do not initiate your attacks before the file has be successfully deleted or we're really screwed."
We all got to our workstations quickly after that short briefing. Each member on the team chanted their ready signals, and we were off. I immediately went to work. I turned on a little playlist of music, and donned Vince's Sennheiser 144 headphones. Vince had limited music that I enjoyed, so I sampled some System Of a Down, Led Zeppelin and Deftones from my iPod Nano. And we were off. I started opening connections all over the world, routing myself so that it was impossible to retrace my actions. Then I dialed into a server that I used for local attacks, right outside of Virginia. Latency would be low, and perfect. Kashmir blasted out of the Sennheisers. The sound was full, and amazing. Five hundred dollars would really go a long way with earphones I guess.
Alex chose to synchronize our actions together, using messages instead of verbal communication due to my self-enclosure. I saw the red message come up. "Attack, 34.66.144.411/dd7 in 30 seconds." This meant that the file had been exterminated and that we were almost finished here. I unleashed my army of drones against the server. The combined 4 way attack between all of us mashed it down in less than a minute after we started. The deed was done. I deleted all of the connection logs from this computer and all of my routing computers. Erased all traceable data, and completely covered my tracks.
Deftones high distortion guitar rocked my ears. Satisfaction. I shut off the music, and looked to face the others. Their faces shown of relief, and of satisfaction as well. Something we all shared, at least in this moment.
"The most important rule about this game. Is knowing yourself, everything else comes naturally." I love that one. The musty foyer of the house was just as it was last time. Empty. Kind of like me. I removed my trusty leather jacket and slung it over my shoulder as I walked down the hardwood stairs. Their creaks from my weight alerted the dwellers of the basement to my presence.
"Nice of you to be on time, James."
"Anytime, Laura."
"I can't say I'm very surprised, you make the perfect hypocrite after all."
She came dangerously close to me, and whispered in my ear. Her voice, even as a whisper was enticing.
"Don't slip up, and maybe you'll get to know a little more about me."
The words slid off her tongue with more sensuality then I was used to.
"Have a little faith, Laura." I whispered back into her ear, with equal sensuality. I had proven that I was once again, in duality of character. She walked back to her desk and resumed her work preparing the presentation for the meeting.
I peered around at the other members of our ramshackle squad, to find Vince looking quite destroyed. They say drugs are a tough game, and his personality fit perfectly as vulnerable to them. Chris was hard at work in several command line windows. I wondered what he was working on. Gino was absent from our meeting tonight, probably working or with his family. I could appreciate his duality. Kenneth was sulking at his workstation, looking like we'd interrupted him from something important. The great part of being able to play multiple roles, is that you're never absent from a real life. None of us fit the normal stereotype of an average hacker. We were the social elites of our own group. None of us were dominated by our abilities, we dominated because of our abilities.
I sat on a bar stool near the large assortment of radio frequency jamming equipment. Alex arose from her chair after a couple finishing adjustments, and gathered everyone's attention. It wasn't hard for her. She certainly hadn't lost mine.
"Ok guys, we had a pretty nasty problem today. Our contact from Philadelphia was uploading the details for an illegal wiretap in Oregon. He failed to encrypt the files correctly, and we believe to have leaked our job information to several servers."
"Laura, I don't see a problem here. Take down the servers." Said Ken, naturally pompous.
"It's too bad one of them is a AES-256 Encrypted server out of a Private Investigator's agency in Langley. That could mean extraordinarily bad news for us, if it's the wrong one."
She played her role as Laura flawlessly. She could just as well be just as empty as I am. Acting for the cameras, so to speak.
"What's the plan, L?" Chris asked, almost eager.
"I thought you'd never ask." And on that note, she brought up a grid of map. On blue and white interlaced line map, there was a red dot simply labeled. "Target."
"Straight and to the point. I like it." I said, and smiled her way.
"I thought you would, Soul. We're going to take down the agency though a 4 way DoS attack, but only after destroying that bit of data that got stolen from us." I love when a woman could take control of an op, assert herself on the team.
"W-Wh-W-What?" Vince looked up from his blank screen, and at Alex wide-eyed. He was trembling.
"Vince, can you handle being here right now?" I asked. I couldn't stand this very much longer.
"Y-Y-eah." And turned back to the blank screen.
"I'm officially taking Vince's slot for this op. I'm not putting my ass on the line, for some junkie to get me thrown in jail. Vince, get up. Here's 15 bucks. Get a cab home, would you?" I had run out of patience.
"O-ok." He replied. Still trembling.
"Alright then. Chris, you're in charge of deleting that data. Wipe it clean. Got it?"
He nodded his approval. And then she turned to me.
"Listen stud. Don't go all lone wolf on me here huh? I need you to gather the spiders from OOL339 and attack the office on my mark. Ok?"
"No problem, Boss Lady." I grinned.
"Ken, we already went over what you're doing. OOL231 spiders, same time as Soul. I'll be hitting with VER3255 spiders. Do not initiate your attacks before the file has be successfully deleted or we're really screwed."
We all got to our workstations quickly after that short briefing. Each member on the team chanted their ready signals, and we were off. I immediately went to work. I turned on a little playlist of music, and donned Vince's Sennheiser 144 headphones. Vince had limited music that I enjoyed, so I sampled some System Of a Down, Led Zeppelin and Deftones from my iPod Nano. And we were off. I started opening connections all over the world, routing myself so that it was impossible to retrace my actions. Then I dialed into a server that I used for local attacks, right outside of Virginia. Latency would be low, and perfect. Kashmir blasted out of the Sennheisers. The sound was full, and amazing. Five hundred dollars would really go a long way with earphones I guess.
Alex chose to synchronize our actions together, using messages instead of verbal communication due to my self-enclosure. I saw the red message come up. "Attack, 34.66.144.411/dd7 in 30 seconds." This meant that the file had been exterminated and that we were almost finished here. I unleashed my army of drones against the server. The combined 4 way attack between all of us mashed it down in less than a minute after we started. The deed was done. I deleted all of the connection logs from this computer and all of my routing computers. Erased all traceable data, and completely covered my tracks.
Deftones high distortion guitar rocked my ears. Satisfaction. I shut off the music, and looked to face the others. Their faces shown of relief, and of satisfaction as well. Something we all shared, at least in this moment.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Chapter 10 "Redline"
"Never trust anybody more than you are forced to. It helps with damage control later on." I have a huge problem with breaking this rule. My friends have and will always be my vulnerability. But you didn't hear that from me. I got up from my computer, and walked outside. The cold air wrapped around me like a forsaken blanket as I moved outside. I dialed into my Amsterdam VoIP server, which routed my phone call through 3 European countries free of charge and then made the call to Alex's cell. This made things convenient for keeping my identity a secret. And if they needed to call me, they got the international number. Foolproof.
"One day and already problems Alex? I'm disappointed."
"Don't be Soul, it was a stupid Philadelphia lackie who fucked this one up."
"I don't share the same stock of trust for those people as you. Call the others, it's time for a meeting."
"First of all, it's a cousin of mine. And second of all, since when did I become your secretary?"
"Lets see, Alex." I put stress on her name to prove my point. "Am I clear?"
"Ugh." And she hung up.
Sorry, Alex but you're still a Rook on my side. Regardless of my respect for you. I felt no remorse for my exploitation, for the simple fact that it was necessary. I returned to the confines of the movie theater, and examined my computer again.
"Terminal01#(unknown routing address): Meeting at 5:00. Be punctual."
Rook A6 to A8. I told Max I was going to have to adjourn for a while, in short words. My car was awaiting me, just as I left it. Only now it toted two orange slips of paper. Parking in front of a fire hydrant and expired inspection. God damn it. I tore them from underneath my windshield wiper and stuffed them into my glove box. I'll save those for a rainy day. My car started and hummed expectantly. Eager to be driven.
I took off down Fifth Avenue with a bit more speed than I should've, but I didn't care. A pedestrian waved at me to slow down. "I appreciate the suggestion, Asstits." I had no tolerance for people who did that. My car screeched as I made the turn onto Sandford Boulevard, and right onto Hutch South. Too much speed there I guess. As I came up the on ramp, I braked and shifted into first gear. My adrenal glands were ready to cleanse my mind of all thoughts for the upcoming trip. Without a second though, I floored it.
My car roared with life as I was pushed into the soft fabric of my seat. 4k, 5k, 6k, Redline. "Shift." 60,70,80,90. "Shift." I said the word aloud to myself as if commanding my lifeless body to listen. 4k, 5k, 6k, Redline. "Shift." The entire moment was liquid. Fluid and out of control. Alice in Chains began to blast out of my speakers. "I feel so alone, Gonna end up a big ol' pile of them bones." I screamed the lyrics with all my might. 100,110,120... "Cmon, Baby, Cmon!" I yelled at my car to reach the speed of light, where nothing matters anymore. Forth gear was not as giving to me as it's predecessors, and I was forced to slow down before I could reach my favorite speed. 130. Pause.
Remember, when I said that sleeping was the only time I really felt free? Thats not completely true. Driving is the only other time I felt free and thoughtless. When I drive, I act completely on impulse and it works very well. When I drive like I do, I'm no longer connected to the reality that I dwell in daily. I create my own, and it is empty. And it is wonderful.
Play. My movement down the highway was now largely obstructed. I barely held 50 miles an hour. I was lucky to get the short run that I did considering rush hour was imminent. I arrived at 5:05. So much for being punctual. I parked in my usual spot on Mayflower, and walked in the newly minted night. Like I said, short days are especially shorter when you sleep late. The city was alight with life, which is characteristic of the early night. We didn't have the shielding of our deeply nocturnal lifestyle to protect us from others. I repeated my actions from my first visit. Stash all the items in my pockets. Hide my car keys underneath my rear bumper. Hide the screen and iPod. Being meticulous was important.
The cars made sloshing noises as they passed by me in the street. There was something I always enjoyed about city blocks that my small town didn't have. It was the ambiguity of the small town blocks, that made me dislike them. I always appreciated the defined aspect of the city. Organized into sectors, of mostly even length. It was an organizational maniac's wet dream. The trees down here equally as bare as in my neighborhood, and a cold wind found nothing to rustle on those branches. It instead turned it's attention to me, walking down the sidewalk. I however, breathed in deeply the air that it attacked me with. Fresh air was something something I could always appreciate.
I took my time, walking up those steps, and awaiting the front door. Four kids were riding down the block on their bikes. They laughed and yelled. "Sup whitey." I laughed too. I'm not sure if I was laughing at them, or at myself. I turned back to see the large black door open and awaiting my entrance. But it contained no one but the blank, dark room. I guess thats a token for being late. Time for business.
(End Chapter 10.)
"One day and already problems Alex? I'm disappointed."
"Don't be Soul, it was a stupid Philadelphia lackie who fucked this one up."
"I don't share the same stock of trust for those people as you. Call the others, it's time for a meeting."
"First of all, it's a cousin of mine. And second of all, since when did I become your secretary?"
"Lets see, Alex." I put stress on her name to prove my point. "Am I clear?"
"Ugh." And she hung up.
Sorry, Alex but you're still a Rook on my side. Regardless of my respect for you. I felt no remorse for my exploitation, for the simple fact that it was necessary. I returned to the confines of the movie theater, and examined my computer again.
"Terminal01#(unknown routing address): Meeting at 5:00. Be punctual."
Rook A6 to A8. I told Max I was going to have to adjourn for a while, in short words. My car was awaiting me, just as I left it. Only now it toted two orange slips of paper. Parking in front of a fire hydrant and expired inspection. God damn it. I tore them from underneath my windshield wiper and stuffed them into my glove box. I'll save those for a rainy day. My car started and hummed expectantly. Eager to be driven.
I took off down Fifth Avenue with a bit more speed than I should've, but I didn't care. A pedestrian waved at me to slow down. "I appreciate the suggestion, Asstits." I had no tolerance for people who did that. My car screeched as I made the turn onto Sandford Boulevard, and right onto Hutch South. Too much speed there I guess. As I came up the on ramp, I braked and shifted into first gear. My adrenal glands were ready to cleanse my mind of all thoughts for the upcoming trip. Without a second though, I floored it.
My car roared with life as I was pushed into the soft fabric of my seat. 4k, 5k, 6k, Redline. "Shift." 60,70,80,90. "Shift." I said the word aloud to myself as if commanding my lifeless body to listen. 4k, 5k, 6k, Redline. "Shift." The entire moment was liquid. Fluid and out of control. Alice in Chains began to blast out of my speakers. "I feel so alone, Gonna end up a big ol' pile of them bones." I screamed the lyrics with all my might. 100,110,120... "Cmon, Baby, Cmon!" I yelled at my car to reach the speed of light, where nothing matters anymore. Forth gear was not as giving to me as it's predecessors, and I was forced to slow down before I could reach my favorite speed. 130. Pause.
Remember, when I said that sleeping was the only time I really felt free? Thats not completely true. Driving is the only other time I felt free and thoughtless. When I drive, I act completely on impulse and it works very well. When I drive like I do, I'm no longer connected to the reality that I dwell in daily. I create my own, and it is empty. And it is wonderful.
Play. My movement down the highway was now largely obstructed. I barely held 50 miles an hour. I was lucky to get the short run that I did considering rush hour was imminent. I arrived at 5:05. So much for being punctual. I parked in my usual spot on Mayflower, and walked in the newly minted night. Like I said, short days are especially shorter when you sleep late. The city was alight with life, which is characteristic of the early night. We didn't have the shielding of our deeply nocturnal lifestyle to protect us from others. I repeated my actions from my first visit. Stash all the items in my pockets. Hide my car keys underneath my rear bumper. Hide the screen and iPod. Being meticulous was important.
The cars made sloshing noises as they passed by me in the street. There was something I always enjoyed about city blocks that my small town didn't have. It was the ambiguity of the small town blocks, that made me dislike them. I always appreciated the defined aspect of the city. Organized into sectors, of mostly even length. It was an organizational maniac's wet dream. The trees down here equally as bare as in my neighborhood, and a cold wind found nothing to rustle on those branches. It instead turned it's attention to me, walking down the sidewalk. I however, breathed in deeply the air that it attacked me with. Fresh air was something something I could always appreciate.
I took my time, walking up those steps, and awaiting the front door. Four kids were riding down the block on their bikes. They laughed and yelled. "Sup whitey." I laughed too. I'm not sure if I was laughing at them, or at myself. I turned back to see the large black door open and awaiting my entrance. But it contained no one but the blank, dark room. I guess thats a token for being late. Time for business.
(End Chapter 10.)
Chapter 9 "Breathe Out Your Soul"
"Don't forget that no one can ever see your truth." When I was younger, I was supremely confused by this line. Now I really think I understand. There are some advantages to working and living in a small town. The commute to anywhere is nothing, including work. I was surprised to find the ice on my monotone gray steps, had melted. The white powder on my beige Honda clung to my car for dear life. The sun massacred the beautiful snow of the night before, relentlessly. It was a very bright day, and the bare trees gave me no protection from the Sun's piercing rays. Still, the air was crisp with winter. People were shoveling snow across the street. The scrape of their shovel on the sidewalk could be heard for miles.
My locks were still semi-frozen and required some key coaxing to open my door. Still though, my engine woke up immediately from it's cold slumber happily. I wish it was that easy for me. My iPod decided to shuffle up a favorite song of mine. While I awaited my engine to warm itself, I sang the lyrics. "Been around the world and found that only stupid people are breeding..." I loved that line. When I echoed the words, it just reminded me of my disdain for so much this world has to offer. My car popped into drive with a click.
The small town movie theater that I work at is exactly as you'd expect it to be. An old, white, beaten up building. It sported ceramic shingles on it's semi-peaked roofs. Very large glass windows in front, and large glass entrance doors as well. Privacy was not included in the design for this theater. The parking lot was filled with plowed snow, so I parked on the street. The large glass door opened with a whoosh. My feet clicked on the sticky tile floor.
"Hey Max, What's up?"
"Same old stuff, Pretty much. You just wake up?" Said the figure behind the glowing silver MacBook Pro.
"How can you tell?" My humorous sarcasm is all too common. But at least we both enjoyed that.
I opened the safe, and sorted the money for the drawers with ease. After doing this for so long, counting isn't an active process anymore. I let my mind drift as I prepared for opening. I hummed the lyrics to my song. "I'm not sick but I'm not well... And I'm so hot, because I'm in Hell" I couldn't tell you how true this felt. The process of preparing the projector had become second nature as well. Without a second thought, I walked back downstairs to join Max at our staff table behind the counter.
Max and I met up during the summer through some friends. We both got along really well, for the simple fact that we are very similar. Neither of us care what people think, as long as we're having a good time. I have a lot of respect for people like that. My iBook powered on with a cheerful orchestra chime characteristic of Macintosh computers. My aimless surfing grew tiresome after a while. I grabbed myself a small fountain Coke. It tasted good, and caffeine was going to help get me started again. The sound of the dispensing soda was still ringing in my brain. Fsssssssh.
"Think we'll get anybody for this show?" Max had worked the previous shows this week, so at the very least would know if anybody was coming to see it.
"Doubt it, this movie sucks."
The show time came quickly, and without any takers we were forced to waste time until the next show. I neglected my computer for a while, and walked outside to enjoy the cold. The bright sun had already started to fade behind earth again. My favorite part of the winter is the short days and long nights. The stone patio of the theater looked out upon a perfect spot for watching the sunset. I stood in awe of the beautiful array of clouds and colors projected across the sky for what seemed like hours. I floated in between time for a short while, and allowed my head to clear. I let out a sigh, satisfied. It felt like I had breathed out my soul.
I returned to my computer with a message waiting, from my terminal.
"Terminal 01#Relinquished@nny.optonline.663-net: Soul, We have got a problem."
Maybe today isn't going to be as boring as I thought.
(End Chapter 9.)
My locks were still semi-frozen and required some key coaxing to open my door. Still though, my engine woke up immediately from it's cold slumber happily. I wish it was that easy for me. My iPod decided to shuffle up a favorite song of mine. While I awaited my engine to warm itself, I sang the lyrics. "Been around the world and found that only stupid people are breeding..." I loved that line. When I echoed the words, it just reminded me of my disdain for so much this world has to offer. My car popped into drive with a click.
The small town movie theater that I work at is exactly as you'd expect it to be. An old, white, beaten up building. It sported ceramic shingles on it's semi-peaked roofs. Very large glass windows in front, and large glass entrance doors as well. Privacy was not included in the design for this theater. The parking lot was filled with plowed snow, so I parked on the street. The large glass door opened with a whoosh. My feet clicked on the sticky tile floor.
"Hey Max, What's up?"
"Same old stuff, Pretty much. You just wake up?" Said the figure behind the glowing silver MacBook Pro.
"How can you tell?" My humorous sarcasm is all too common. But at least we both enjoyed that.
I opened the safe, and sorted the money for the drawers with ease. After doing this for so long, counting isn't an active process anymore. I let my mind drift as I prepared for opening. I hummed the lyrics to my song. "I'm not sick but I'm not well... And I'm so hot, because I'm in Hell" I couldn't tell you how true this felt. The process of preparing the projector had become second nature as well. Without a second thought, I walked back downstairs to join Max at our staff table behind the counter.
Max and I met up during the summer through some friends. We both got along really well, for the simple fact that we are very similar. Neither of us care what people think, as long as we're having a good time. I have a lot of respect for people like that. My iBook powered on with a cheerful orchestra chime characteristic of Macintosh computers. My aimless surfing grew tiresome after a while. I grabbed myself a small fountain Coke. It tasted good, and caffeine was going to help get me started again. The sound of the dispensing soda was still ringing in my brain. Fsssssssh.
"Think we'll get anybody for this show?" Max had worked the previous shows this week, so at the very least would know if anybody was coming to see it.
"Doubt it, this movie sucks."
The show time came quickly, and without any takers we were forced to waste time until the next show. I neglected my computer for a while, and walked outside to enjoy the cold. The bright sun had already started to fade behind earth again. My favorite part of the winter is the short days and long nights. The stone patio of the theater looked out upon a perfect spot for watching the sunset. I stood in awe of the beautiful array of clouds and colors projected across the sky for what seemed like hours. I floated in between time for a short while, and allowed my head to clear. I let out a sigh, satisfied. It felt like I had breathed out my soul.
I returned to my computer with a message waiting, from my terminal.
"Terminal 01#Relinquished@nny.optonline.663-net: Soul, We have got a problem."
Maybe today isn't going to be as boring as I thought.
(End Chapter 9.)
Monday, December 17, 2007
Chapter 8 "Humdrum Life"
By now, you must realize that I spend way too much time inside my own head. I don't have time for errors, donning different personalities and identities. So when I'm not under that pressure, I'm still under that pressure. I've really learned to appreciate the time I get to sleep. Fall through darkness, the only time that I feel completely real. I'm always alone when I sleep, when I dream. Thats the best part about it. "WHERE EVIL DWELLS, NORTH FORK, LI" Oh, well thats my queue. Time to become synthetic again.
I opened my eyes to the pounding sound of Fear Factory, screaming about evil. Their sinister guitar riffs where enough to drag me out of my bed. My sound system powered off with a distinct click. My clock read 2:55PM. Though, it was actually 1:45... Stupid clock. I enjoy the luxury of sleeping so late because I decided to take some time off of school to 'find myself.' Of course, my parents don't know about that. Another example of a fake identity I had to carry.
My laptop was flashing red prompts at me. Some random emails from my Mom, job offers and I had an indication that I had a Facebook message. My house was silent in the aftermath of my massive alarm clock, so the clicking of the keys was somewhat refreshing. I checked all of my contacts, to see if I had any true 'work' lined up for today. No hits. Thats nice, but boring. I decided to have some fun in Westchester's backbone servers. I jumped through finding activity everywhere. People checking email, watching porn, looking up cooking recipes and the list continues. The information was all passing through my computer, for me to do what I liked with it. I watched the passwords and various serial numbers pile up with extreme speed. Big Brother is always watching. I grew bored of this operation fairly quickly, as it wasn't an active process. My spiders did all the work for me.
As the stereotype would have it, my room was located in the basement of that small but quaint house. This didn't allow me direct privacy, but with the upside of having an entire floor and dedicated room for my cluster nodes. My office doubled as the laundry room, which had it's ups and downs. My office, where most of my dirty work took place was lit by florescent lights, with a white tile floor extending throughout the basement. I had your average computer desk in here, and a seemingly innocent laptop. My walls were populated by various posters, drawings and other objects. There were stolen road signs, a fried video card, halves of skateboards, I could keep going. My walls were my own little collage you could say. I loved this place.
Beep beep da-da-ta-da-dum, My cellphone happily chimed and vibrated on my desk. The caller ID read 'Max Miller.' I answered, partially realizing why I receiving the call.
"Hey Maximus, What's up?"
"Nothing much dude, except that you aren't at work."
"Fuck. I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Cool. Later."
"Later."
I checked my clock again, and it mockingly read 4:30PM. I guess time really flies when you're having fun.
(End Chapter 8.)
I opened my eyes to the pounding sound of Fear Factory, screaming about evil. Their sinister guitar riffs where enough to drag me out of my bed. My sound system powered off with a distinct click. My clock read 2:55PM. Though, it was actually 1:45... Stupid clock. I enjoy the luxury of sleeping so late because I decided to take some time off of school to 'find myself.' Of course, my parents don't know about that. Another example of a fake identity I had to carry.
My laptop was flashing red prompts at me. Some random emails from my Mom, job offers and I had an indication that I had a Facebook message. My house was silent in the aftermath of my massive alarm clock, so the clicking of the keys was somewhat refreshing. I checked all of my contacts, to see if I had any true 'work' lined up for today. No hits. Thats nice, but boring. I decided to have some fun in Westchester's backbone servers. I jumped through finding activity everywhere. People checking email, watching porn, looking up cooking recipes and the list continues. The information was all passing through my computer, for me to do what I liked with it. I watched the passwords and various serial numbers pile up with extreme speed. Big Brother is always watching. I grew bored of this operation fairly quickly, as it wasn't an active process. My spiders did all the work for me.
As the stereotype would have it, my room was located in the basement of that small but quaint house. This didn't allow me direct privacy, but with the upside of having an entire floor and dedicated room for my cluster nodes. My office doubled as the laundry room, which had it's ups and downs. My office, where most of my dirty work took place was lit by florescent lights, with a white tile floor extending throughout the basement. I had your average computer desk in here, and a seemingly innocent laptop. My walls were populated by various posters, drawings and other objects. There were stolen road signs, a fried video card, halves of skateboards, I could keep going. My walls were my own little collage you could say. I loved this place.
Beep beep da-da-ta-da-dum, My cellphone happily chimed and vibrated on my desk. The caller ID read 'Max Miller.' I answered, partially realizing why I receiving the call.
"Hey Maximus, What's up?"
"Nothing much dude, except that you aren't at work."
"Fuck. I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Cool. Later."
"Later."
I checked my clock again, and it mockingly read 4:30PM. I guess time really flies when you're having fun.
(End Chapter 8.)
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Chapter 7 "Pugilism"
"When you're numb, the world is your enemy." Something I came to realize a very long time ago. The center man stepped forward. I saw the red bandana underneath his hood. It didn't take much to realize what was happening.
"Yo. Where ya from?"
"Around. What difference is it to you?" I was unsure if it was a good idea to provoke them.
"Fork over ya fuckin' money, If ya know wha' good for ya."
Alex stepped closer to me, and I put her behind me.
"I'd rather not. It is way past our bedtime, so if you'll excuse me gentlemen." Adrenaline was already coursing through my veins again. My heart rate increased to prepare for what ever was going to happen.
"Imma kill you fool. And ya bitch too."
"Wrong."
I felt my boot connect with his ribs immediately. Before he even knew what was coming. Before I even realized what I had done. My crushing blow took them all by surprise, and this was all I needed. We ran as fast as we could, back up that winding block. My lungs burned. My heart raced, and threatened to break out of it's housing inside my chest. My mind was moving many times faster than my heart. Mayflower connects with Edison which connects to Middletown. We ran up one block, and then up the next. I only saw two pursuers behind us. I could tell they were too out of shape to keep this up for much longer. Trees flashed by me, parked cars, many different colors and shapes. I was flying through time, with my new companion. My muscles wanted to stop, but my mind would not allow. Could not allow. I could tell Alex was tiring too. We made a sharp left at Philip Ave, and ran up into a driveway. There was a blue Ford Taurus parked there. I motioned her down, and we crouched behind the car out of sight.
I heard our pursuers run by the driveway. Wheezing and coughing. It was now that I appreciated all those trips to the skate park in the summer. The pursuit was over, and the prey had escaped. I breathed hard, but quietly. Alex looked at me, and relaxed her tense face.
"So.. Where'd you learn to run like that?" I was very interested in the new girl I had just met minutes before.
"Preston Track team actually."
"Oh god, you were a Preston girl?"
"Save it, Soul. Lets get the fuck out of here."
My nose was starting to run. I got up and started to walk towards the end of the driveway. Alex followed shortly behind me. I crouched down at the end of the driveway, and peered out. Coast was clear. We both exited and continued down this very dark block. The streetlights were out in too many spots for us to be seen outright. I appreciated the darkness, because in darkness I didn't have a shadow, Iwas the shadow.
"Well, as luck would have it... This is where I parked."
"Fancy that... Holy shit. Is this your car?"
"Uhh.. Yes."
"A 65' Big Block 454 Chevelle?!"
"Quiet, Soul. I know she's a beauty but I don't feel like having the windows bashed in tonight."
"It's snowing though. This is no winter car."
"I didn't have a choice. Daddy dearest took my Beemer."
"...I've got a lot to learn about you, Don't I?"
"Yup. Thanks for saving the day back there."
She kissed me on the cheek. It was warm. But I'm too cold for that.
"Catch you later, Alex. I'll be giving you a call tomorrow about that information drop."
"See you Soul."
I stood for a moment, to listen to the 454 cubic inch big block engine awaken. It's throaty roar echoed down the empty street as she pulled off. What a car. What a girl. What a night. I was back to the loneliness I loved so much. In the distance, I heard car horns blaring, and a bus chugging it's way down the street. The world had started to awaken, and it was time for me to go to sleep.
I made the jog back to my humble car quick as possible. I found my keys exactly where I left them. The lock click seemed so insignificant at this hour. The light from the sky told me that my night was fading quickly. My engine came to life immediately. The cold cabin of my car was inviting. I grabbed a tissue from my center console to wipe my nose. My lights clicked on as I rolled away. The roads were still wet and soggy from the snow during the night. The drive home was silent and thoughtless. My mind was still reeling from the events, but was too exhausted to process them. I reached my home with ease, just as I saw the sky blend gray-orange. The sun would be coming up very soon. My car's digital clock seemed to sparkle. 5:23. My door slam seemed to cascade down my block. Empty and lifeless as it was, I felt at home here, now. My walk up the pathway was unobstructed except for the hairs length of snowfall. My monotonous gray steps were now more white than ever.
My first step onto the snowy step, was my error. I slipped on it, forgetting about the icy layer that hid underneath the snow. My knee smashed against the hard concrete. At first, I moaned in pain. And then I began to laugh. It was incredibly ironic, after having escaped so many circumstances unscathed, I fell victim to ice. I entered my warm home. My bed was more inviting than ever before. And sleep surprisingly came easy.
(End Chapter 7.)
"Yo. Where ya from?"
"Around. What difference is it to you?" I was unsure if it was a good idea to provoke them.
"Fork over ya fuckin' money, If ya know wha' good for ya."
Alex stepped closer to me, and I put her behind me.
"I'd rather not. It is way past our bedtime, so if you'll excuse me gentlemen." Adrenaline was already coursing through my veins again. My heart rate increased to prepare for what ever was going to happen.
"Imma kill you fool. And ya bitch too."
"Wrong."
I felt my boot connect with his ribs immediately. Before he even knew what was coming. Before I even realized what I had done. My crushing blow took them all by surprise, and this was all I needed. We ran as fast as we could, back up that winding block. My lungs burned. My heart raced, and threatened to break out of it's housing inside my chest. My mind was moving many times faster than my heart. Mayflower connects with Edison which connects to Middletown. We ran up one block, and then up the next. I only saw two pursuers behind us. I could tell they were too out of shape to keep this up for much longer. Trees flashed by me, parked cars, many different colors and shapes. I was flying through time, with my new companion. My muscles wanted to stop, but my mind would not allow. Could not allow. I could tell Alex was tiring too. We made a sharp left at Philip Ave, and ran up into a driveway. There was a blue Ford Taurus parked there. I motioned her down, and we crouched behind the car out of sight.
I heard our pursuers run by the driveway. Wheezing and coughing. It was now that I appreciated all those trips to the skate park in the summer. The pursuit was over, and the prey had escaped. I breathed hard, but quietly. Alex looked at me, and relaxed her tense face.
"So.. Where'd you learn to run like that?" I was very interested in the new girl I had just met minutes before.
"Preston Track team actually."
"Oh god, you were a Preston girl?"
"Save it, Soul. Lets get the fuck out of here."
My nose was starting to run. I got up and started to walk towards the end of the driveway. Alex followed shortly behind me. I crouched down at the end of the driveway, and peered out. Coast was clear. We both exited and continued down this very dark block. The streetlights were out in too many spots for us to be seen outright. I appreciated the darkness, because in darkness I didn't have a shadow, Iwas the shadow.
"Well, as luck would have it... This is where I parked."
"Fancy that... Holy shit. Is this your car?"
"Uhh.. Yes."
"A 65' Big Block 454 Chevelle?!"
"Quiet, Soul. I know she's a beauty but I don't feel like having the windows bashed in tonight."
"It's snowing though. This is no winter car."
"I didn't have a choice. Daddy dearest took my Beemer."
"...I've got a lot to learn about you, Don't I?"
"Yup. Thanks for saving the day back there."
She kissed me on the cheek. It was warm. But I'm too cold for that.
"Catch you later, Alex. I'll be giving you a call tomorrow about that information drop."
"See you Soul."
I stood for a moment, to listen to the 454 cubic inch big block engine awaken. It's throaty roar echoed down the empty street as she pulled off. What a car. What a girl. What a night. I was back to the loneliness I loved so much. In the distance, I heard car horns blaring, and a bus chugging it's way down the street. The world had started to awaken, and it was time for me to go to sleep.
I made the jog back to my humble car quick as possible. I found my keys exactly where I left them. The lock click seemed so insignificant at this hour. The light from the sky told me that my night was fading quickly. My engine came to life immediately. The cold cabin of my car was inviting. I grabbed a tissue from my center console to wipe my nose. My lights clicked on as I rolled away. The roads were still wet and soggy from the snow during the night. The drive home was silent and thoughtless. My mind was still reeling from the events, but was too exhausted to process them. I reached my home with ease, just as I saw the sky blend gray-orange. The sun would be coming up very soon. My car's digital clock seemed to sparkle. 5:23. My door slam seemed to cascade down my block. Empty and lifeless as it was, I felt at home here, now. My walk up the pathway was unobstructed except for the hairs length of snowfall. My monotonous gray steps were now more white than ever.
My first step onto the snowy step, was my error. I slipped on it, forgetting about the icy layer that hid underneath the snow. My knee smashed against the hard concrete. At first, I moaned in pain. And then I began to laugh. It was incredibly ironic, after having escaped so many circumstances unscathed, I fell victim to ice. I entered my warm home. My bed was more inviting than ever before. And sleep surprisingly came easy.
(End Chapter 7.)
Chapter 6 "Coffee can be dangerous."
"Sometimes I have to look in the mirror just to make sure I'm still here... Thats how numb I am." Explaining that to people was always so tough. I turned around quickly, to see Laura decked out in her long peacoat with a black scarf. I liked her style. Her long hair blew in the slight cold breeze. She smiled at me from feet away, and suddenly my environment seemed insignificant. The orange glow of the streetlights reflected off of her pupils. Like artificial fire, in her soul.
"Hey stranger. Following me are you?"
"Maybe. Where are you headed? It'll be sun up soon, and you need to get inside. Don't forget, the sun burns vampires."
"Thanks for the tip. I'm going to get a morning coffee actually. Feel like joining me?"
"Coffee can be dangerous. I'm in."
And on that note, I turned back to walking. She caught up and reengaged me.
"So.. I see you're fitting into our little group very nicely." She laughed. So did I.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that. How did you get mixed up in them anyway?"
"A big mistake, but I got a pretty enticing work order from Ken. And it's paid off really well so far."
"Yeah.. I'm hoping to get into some of that myself. But we'll see. Money has never really been too much to me."
"It'll pull you in quicker than you'll realize." I'm not like other people here, in case you haven't noticed.
"We'll see."
We walked down the serpentine block, in silence. I'll tell you, it was slightly awkward. And unexpected, from someone with a fiery personality. I could tell something was bothering her, and honestly I wasn't in any mood to be light. I was blunt.
"So.. What do you need?"
"...Uh. What?"
"You were the one who contacted me. So far anybody I've talked to had been reached by Ken. Unless you were stalking me, I've got something you need."
"And you Soul, live up to every aspect of your shadow."
"Thanks. I appreciate that."
"Alright. So... My name is actually Alex Johannson. I'm from North Carolina. My mother and father died long ago, and I've been living with my foster parents in NY. I am actually 18 though. I hacked myself into a corner. A very tight one."
Pause. This girl actually managed to hack bait for me. And I bit it like a hungry fish. I'm honestly, very impressed. This has to be good. Play.
"Where is this corner located?"
"FBI Black-Hole List. Secure Server #3445A On PPT151."
"Holy shit. What the hell were you doing on there?"
"Erasing my name from it of course. I've been on it since I was 10, and frankly, I'm tired of it." Honestly, you are starting to sound like me the more we talk.
"So. What's the timer on your arrest?"
"The request for it went in 2 days ago, it'll reach New York in another 2 days. And then, off to jail I go."
"Give me a flash drive with your information, the server's location, and the SSNs of both your identities. I'll do a little cross-link from Amsterdam and it'll buy you some time to fix your mistake."
"Wait..."
"Sorry. I don't finish other people's business for them. I'll open the door. But you have to walk through it."
"Why, How kind of you Morpheus." She smiled.
"Don't mention it." I smiled back.
The sound of our feet crunching against the ground could be heard for miles. It seemed more like we were traversing a desert than a city street. We reached the coffee shop on the corner, only to find it closed. A digital clock inside the dirty window wore the time. 4:47 AM. I guess there was too much wishful thinking involved in this plan. I turned around to be faced by four hooded figures. It was too dark to make out their faces. The ghosts with their silent threat.
"You were very right, Alex. Coffee can be dangerous."
(End Chapter 6.)
"Hey stranger. Following me are you?"
"Maybe. Where are you headed? It'll be sun up soon, and you need to get inside. Don't forget, the sun burns vampires."
"Thanks for the tip. I'm going to get a morning coffee actually. Feel like joining me?"
"Coffee can be dangerous. I'm in."
And on that note, I turned back to walking. She caught up and reengaged me.
"So.. I see you're fitting into our little group very nicely." She laughed. So did I.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that. How did you get mixed up in them anyway?"
"A big mistake, but I got a pretty enticing work order from Ken. And it's paid off really well so far."
"Yeah.. I'm hoping to get into some of that myself. But we'll see. Money has never really been too much to me."
"It'll pull you in quicker than you'll realize." I'm not like other people here, in case you haven't noticed.
"We'll see."
We walked down the serpentine block, in silence. I'll tell you, it was slightly awkward. And unexpected, from someone with a fiery personality. I could tell something was bothering her, and honestly I wasn't in any mood to be light. I was blunt.
"So.. What do you need?"
"...Uh. What?"
"You were the one who contacted me. So far anybody I've talked to had been reached by Ken. Unless you were stalking me, I've got something you need."
"And you Soul, live up to every aspect of your shadow."
"Thanks. I appreciate that."
"Alright. So... My name is actually Alex Johannson. I'm from North Carolina. My mother and father died long ago, and I've been living with my foster parents in NY. I am actually 18 though. I hacked myself into a corner. A very tight one."
Pause. This girl actually managed to hack bait for me. And I bit it like a hungry fish. I'm honestly, very impressed. This has to be good. Play.
"Where is this corner located?"
"FBI Black-Hole List. Secure Server #3445A On PPT151."
"Holy shit. What the hell were you doing on there?"
"Erasing my name from it of course. I've been on it since I was 10, and frankly, I'm tired of it." Honestly, you are starting to sound like me the more we talk.
"So. What's the timer on your arrest?"
"The request for it went in 2 days ago, it'll reach New York in another 2 days. And then, off to jail I go."
"Give me a flash drive with your information, the server's location, and the SSNs of both your identities. I'll do a little cross-link from Amsterdam and it'll buy you some time to fix your mistake."
"Wait..."
"Sorry. I don't finish other people's business for them. I'll open the door. But you have to walk through it."
"Why, How kind of you Morpheus." She smiled.
"Don't mention it." I smiled back.
The sound of our feet crunching against the ground could be heard for miles. It seemed more like we were traversing a desert than a city street. We reached the coffee shop on the corner, only to find it closed. A digital clock inside the dirty window wore the time. 4:47 AM. I guess there was too much wishful thinking involved in this plan. I turned around to be faced by four hooded figures. It was too dark to make out their faces. The ghosts with their silent threat.
"You were very right, Alex. Coffee can be dangerous."
(End Chapter 6.)
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Chapter 5 "The Test"
(If somebody happens to find an error whether it be grammar or punctuation, feel free to leave me a comment with the sentence with the error so I can fix it. Thanks.)
"Life is beautiful when you're numb." Not being numb, means being vulnerable. And I can't stand vulnerability. Everyone left the room and headed over to their desks. I stood behind everyone, with my arms crossed. Laura went over to the switchboard on the wall. The lights dimmed very low.
"A little lighting to set the mood." Another sexy wink in my direction. I could tell I was going to enjoy this.
Some light tapping on their backlit keyboards, screens flashing with life and activity as everyone synchronized.
"Concrete, Go."
"Band Aid, Go."
"Relinquished, Go."
"Moray, Go"
"What's the target?" Time to assert some authority.
"2X2 Attack on a Miami Police Database server." Laura became 'Relinquished' seamlessly.
"I see. Alright then. Fratelli, Laura is going to get you a police database login prompt. Get yourself into the system." Here's where it really matters.
"Are you sure about that? Won't they be able to trace it back to me?" They could.
"No, Laura will make sure of that. You know what I'm thinking?" She turned around and smiled. Great minds think alike.
While she got to work on that, I decided to make use of my newly minted soldiers.
"Vince, still remember how to decrypt encrypted links on the fly?"
"I don't take orders from you, Soul."
"You do now, or I'll do it myself."
Vince was silent.
"Just as I thought. Now, as I was saying. Decrypt the link between Laura and the Miami P.D. Rehash the ID after it's been authenticated, so our good friend Gino here suffers no consequence. Is the door open Crete?"
"Door open." Ken replied, snake-like.
"Moray, you're up. Start downloading the files through that open door. The authentication window closes in 10 seconds."
"Way ahead of you, Soul. Documents received and decrypted." I appreciated Chris' enthusiasm.
"Well done. Close that wound up, and make sure there isn't a scar."
It didn't take more than a moment for them to finish what they started. They were gifted as a group, and singularly. The people I obviously have to worry about, Ken and Vince weren't as powerful as their opposition. My pieces were employing my strong strategy. While constantly calculating my own vulnerabilities. I felt invincible.
"You all pass." I removed a flash drive that had been hidden in the "secret" pocket in my jacket. "Here are the 1024 keys for the DMV of Massachusetts. That includes my server I.P. Don't take it for granted. Keys expire in a week."
"Don't take for yourself for granted, James." Ken had to have the last word in.
"I'll let myself out." And I gave everyone a wave as I walked up the creaky, dusty hardwood stairs. My life would drastically change after this night, I would soon find out. But for now, I was happy for my immediate success. I walked out the large black door, to be greeted again by the cold. It was nice to have my trusty leather jacket, I felt safe and it kept me warm.
I checked my pocket to make sure I still had my 4 dollars, even wallet-less I wouldn't be surprised if I had lost it. I walked in the opposite direction of my car, towards the main street 2 blocks away. As I walked, I ventured into my mind for a while. Since I was a kid, I always loved the vividness of the night. In the day, everything is vibrant and colorful. But the night is vivid. Your other senses come to life. They are being challenged to handle the changed environment. And at the same time, you have to enjoy the peace. The day is filled with too much chaos sometimes. Thats why I loved being nocturnal. A car hummed past me down the street. The wetness of the ground shone in the streetlight. Ice never stands a chance in the city. The air smelled of crisp freshly fallen snow. I was melting into the beautiful night again, basking in my own thoughts.
"Hey Vampire."
I knew that voice anywhere.
"Life is beautiful when you're numb." Not being numb, means being vulnerable. And I can't stand vulnerability. Everyone left the room and headed over to their desks. I stood behind everyone, with my arms crossed. Laura went over to the switchboard on the wall. The lights dimmed very low.
"A little lighting to set the mood." Another sexy wink in my direction. I could tell I was going to enjoy this.
Some light tapping on their backlit keyboards, screens flashing with life and activity as everyone synchronized.
"Concrete, Go."
"Band Aid, Go."
"Relinquished, Go."
"Moray, Go"
"What's the target?" Time to assert some authority.
"2X2 Attack on a Miami Police Database server." Laura became 'Relinquished' seamlessly.
"I see. Alright then. Fratelli, Laura is going to get you a police database login prompt. Get yourself into the system." Here's where it really matters.
"Are you sure about that? Won't they be able to trace it back to me?" They could.
"No, Laura will make sure of that. You know what I'm thinking?" She turned around and smiled. Great minds think alike.
While she got to work on that, I decided to make use of my newly minted soldiers.
"Vince, still remember how to decrypt encrypted links on the fly?"
"I don't take orders from you, Soul."
"You do now, or I'll do it myself."
Vince was silent.
"Just as I thought. Now, as I was saying. Decrypt the link between Laura and the Miami P.D. Rehash the ID after it's been authenticated, so our good friend Gino here suffers no consequence. Is the door open Crete?"
"Door open." Ken replied, snake-like.
"Moray, you're up. Start downloading the files through that open door. The authentication window closes in 10 seconds."
"Way ahead of you, Soul. Documents received and decrypted." I appreciated Chris' enthusiasm.
"Well done. Close that wound up, and make sure there isn't a scar."
It didn't take more than a moment for them to finish what they started. They were gifted as a group, and singularly. The people I obviously have to worry about, Ken and Vince weren't as powerful as their opposition. My pieces were employing my strong strategy. While constantly calculating my own vulnerabilities. I felt invincible.
"You all pass." I removed a flash drive that had been hidden in the "secret" pocket in my jacket. "Here are the 1024 keys for the DMV of Massachusetts. That includes my server I.P. Don't take it for granted. Keys expire in a week."
"Don't take for yourself for granted, James." Ken had to have the last word in.
"I'll let myself out." And I gave everyone a wave as I walked up the creaky, dusty hardwood stairs. My life would drastically change after this night, I would soon find out. But for now, I was happy for my immediate success. I walked out the large black door, to be greeted again by the cold. It was nice to have my trusty leather jacket, I felt safe and it kept me warm.
I checked my pocket to make sure I still had my 4 dollars, even wallet-less I wouldn't be surprised if I had lost it. I walked in the opposite direction of my car, towards the main street 2 blocks away. As I walked, I ventured into my mind for a while. Since I was a kid, I always loved the vividness of the night. In the day, everything is vibrant and colorful. But the night is vivid. Your other senses come to life. They are being challenged to handle the changed environment. And at the same time, you have to enjoy the peace. The day is filled with too much chaos sometimes. Thats why I loved being nocturnal. A car hummed past me down the street. The wetness of the ground shone in the streetlight. Ice never stands a chance in the city. The air smelled of crisp freshly fallen snow. I was melting into the beautiful night again, basking in my own thoughts.
"Hey Vampire."
I knew that voice anywhere.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Chapter 4 "The Meeting"
I turned around in my seat to see Gino walking down the stairs. A bit on the heavy side, with a black goatee and spiked hair.
He was wearing a police uniform, which was unsettling. I arose and stood still for a second, but I received a very close whisper.
"Don't worry, he's with us."
Laura moved past me, dangerously close. I outstretched my hand to Fratelli. It was embossed in his gold name tag. A name I would not soon forget. He shook it, and I introduced myself.
"Old Soul. But Soul is just fine."
"Fratelli. But I'm sure you already know, for various reasons." He smiled. It wasn't the devilish grin that Kenneth carries.
Something about the way that Fratelli went about himself was very disarming to me. However, I did not let that infiltrate me as easily as it should've. Call me paranoid.
"So.. Soul. Where are you from?"
"Around. How'd you come into contact with Ken and the others?"
In the background of our conversation, Laura and Ken were corralling the others into another room in the basement. One I did not notice when I walked in. The room went silent in between the whirring of the hard drives and our interrogation of each other.
"Crete came into contact with me, with an offer I couldn't resist."
"Thats how it usually goes. Lets go see what's going on."
It was cute how Kenneth manipulated everyone into calling him by his pseudonym. I almost felt respect for him. Almost.
Fratelli walked in front of me into the room. I stood for just a moment and thought to myself. These people were not exactly what I was expecting. Instead of leaders, I just saw a marionette. It was too easy to plan my next move against my opponent.
I examined the doorway I was walking through. And it was then I realized why I didn't immediately notice it. It was a bookshelf. I admired the style of the person who built this room. Very secret agent.
I slowly made my way through this peculiar doorway, into the smaller room. There was a nice hardwood table setup, with a video phone in the center. It was spacious enough for the 6 people that occupied it. Perfectly actually. The walls were a mahogany red with molding and continuing blue plush rug motif from the large room. There were no windows in this room, and it was lit by a florescent light in comparison to the natural lights in the large room. It felt more artificial. Understandably so.
At the head of the table sat Kenneth. To his left, Vince and Chris. To his right, Laura and Fratelli. There was one seat open at the opposite head of the table. I loved the metaphor we unknowingly created. Like chess partners at opposite ends of the board. Moving our pieces against each other.
"Nice of you to join us, Soul."
"My pleasure. Shall we begin? I'm growing weary of this waiting game."
"The fact that you're now permanent fixture in our organization, means that you'll have to give me a bit more respect. I am after all, the leader."
"You know what Ken? You haven't done anything to earn that respect. And don't mistake me for a permanent part of this. I'll tell you if I feel that way."
This drew looks of disgust from Vince. Chris was indifferent. But Fratelli and Laura did not act the same, they seemed half amazed and half interested. This gave me the confidence I needed for the next move. I spoke up.
"You know what I bring to the table. Unrestricted access to the DMV databases, in multiple states. The ability to fake administration in two major bank chains. Police database access for the NYPD, and NY State Troopers. Finally, FBI watch list information. All of these systems controlled by my Amsterdam services, but with local servers stashed around the state. These all protected by SHA-2 1024-Bit Encryption. I'd love to see you try and break that. It takes me an hour just to authenticate. Double IP faking, and routing through California from an old friend of mine. You want access? Prove to me that you deserve it. Show me what you've got."
"James here thinks he can enter and challenge us." Kenneth looked surprised by this move.
"Don't be a fool. This isn't a challenge, it's a test. If you pass, then you'll become the 'Vicious 6'. If not, then I walk. By the way, I am not afraid of my name. So feel free to call me that if you'd like."
"How dare you come to this table and challenge us? What gives you the right?" Thats right, Ken. Good boy, back into that corner.
"I have the right. I have what you need. It's easy to tell because you would've done all of that if you had the ability. Lets see who agrees with me."
Laura, Fratelli and Chris raised their hands. Done. Checkmate for now.
"Fine. Everyone to their stations. Lets make this quick." Ken was infuriated, but defeated. For now.
And so the test began.
(End Chapter 4)
He was wearing a police uniform, which was unsettling. I arose and stood still for a second, but I received a very close whisper.
"Don't worry, he's with us."
Laura moved past me, dangerously close. I outstretched my hand to Fratelli. It was embossed in his gold name tag. A name I would not soon forget. He shook it, and I introduced myself.
"Old Soul. But Soul is just fine."
"Fratelli. But I'm sure you already know, for various reasons." He smiled. It wasn't the devilish grin that Kenneth carries.
Something about the way that Fratelli went about himself was very disarming to me. However, I did not let that infiltrate me as easily as it should've. Call me paranoid.
"So.. Soul. Where are you from?"
"Around. How'd you come into contact with Ken and the others?"
In the background of our conversation, Laura and Ken were corralling the others into another room in the basement. One I did not notice when I walked in. The room went silent in between the whirring of the hard drives and our interrogation of each other.
"Crete came into contact with me, with an offer I couldn't resist."
"Thats how it usually goes. Lets go see what's going on."
It was cute how Kenneth manipulated everyone into calling him by his pseudonym. I almost felt respect for him. Almost.
Fratelli walked in front of me into the room. I stood for just a moment and thought to myself. These people were not exactly what I was expecting. Instead of leaders, I just saw a marionette. It was too easy to plan my next move against my opponent.
I examined the doorway I was walking through. And it was then I realized why I didn't immediately notice it. It was a bookshelf. I admired the style of the person who built this room. Very secret agent.
I slowly made my way through this peculiar doorway, into the smaller room. There was a nice hardwood table setup, with a video phone in the center. It was spacious enough for the 6 people that occupied it. Perfectly actually. The walls were a mahogany red with molding and continuing blue plush rug motif from the large room. There were no windows in this room, and it was lit by a florescent light in comparison to the natural lights in the large room. It felt more artificial. Understandably so.
At the head of the table sat Kenneth. To his left, Vince and Chris. To his right, Laura and Fratelli. There was one seat open at the opposite head of the table. I loved the metaphor we unknowingly created. Like chess partners at opposite ends of the board. Moving our pieces against each other.
"Nice of you to join us, Soul."
"My pleasure. Shall we begin? I'm growing weary of this waiting game."
"The fact that you're now permanent fixture in our organization, means that you'll have to give me a bit more respect. I am after all, the leader."
"You know what Ken? You haven't done anything to earn that respect. And don't mistake me for a permanent part of this. I'll tell you if I feel that way."
This drew looks of disgust from Vince. Chris was indifferent. But Fratelli and Laura did not act the same, they seemed half amazed and half interested. This gave me the confidence I needed for the next move. I spoke up.
"You know what I bring to the table. Unrestricted access to the DMV databases, in multiple states. The ability to fake administration in two major bank chains. Police database access for the NYPD, and NY State Troopers. Finally, FBI watch list information. All of these systems controlled by my Amsterdam services, but with local servers stashed around the state. These all protected by SHA-2 1024-Bit Encryption. I'd love to see you try and break that. It takes me an hour just to authenticate. Double IP faking, and routing through California from an old friend of mine. You want access? Prove to me that you deserve it. Show me what you've got."
"James here thinks he can enter and challenge us." Kenneth looked surprised by this move.
"Don't be a fool. This isn't a challenge, it's a test. If you pass, then you'll become the 'Vicious 6'. If not, then I walk. By the way, I am not afraid of my name. So feel free to call me that if you'd like."
"How dare you come to this table and challenge us? What gives you the right?" Thats right, Ken. Good boy, back into that corner.
"I have the right. I have what you need. It's easy to tell because you would've done all of that if you had the ability. Lets see who agrees with me."
Laura, Fratelli and Chris raised their hands. Done. Checkmate for now.
"Fine. Everyone to their stations. Lets make this quick." Ken was infuriated, but defeated. For now.
And so the test began.
(End Chapter 4)
Friday, December 7, 2007
Chapter 3 "Enter, Vicious"
The doorway was dark, but strangely inviting. I walked inside and the door shut softly. I was greeted by a girl and immediately my research flashed into my head. Laura Hernandez. Bronx resident since birth, attended I.S. 128 for middle school, Lehman High School and then Westchester Community College for a semester before dropping out. A+ Student until that semester, lived on 2203 Watercrest Ave, Bronx NY 10465. No drivers license, but a very gifted hacker. 18 years old too. Same as me. The best of the "Vicious" if I had to say. Went by the name of 'Relinquished'. The only person within this circle to have no previous attention from any law enforcement agency.
"Hello Laura."
I stopped to examine the room for a second. Or maybe I was examining her. I sure don't remember much of the room. She was about 5'4, with long brunette hair. Slender too. But it was too dark to see her eyes. They probably would've given her away. Her dominican and italian mixture gave her olive skin. Her picture didn't give her curves justice.
"James. Nice to finally meet the man behind the Soul." With a sultry wink to top it all off, a well prepared welcome.
"May I come in?"
"Well, they say that vampires can only enter your home if you invite them in. It's too bad you're already in here." She reached for her ear for just a second, and seemed to be talking to herself. "Soul is here. Can he come down?"
She motioned towards the barely lighted staircase. I started to glance around the room to really get a gauge for what I was walking into. It was in essence an abandoned home, that they had hacked themselves into ownership of. Not an easy task, in my opinion. But a few simple changes on a person's will, and the house was theirs. I suppose it wasn't as hard as I originally thought. The stairs we're old and dusty hardwood. It seemed like they were going to give way underneath me, and I was cautious. Ironically, more cautious than when I traversed the icy stairs at my own home.
I looked around the curve of the spiral staircase to see a surprising sight. The room was bright with natural light lamps. The windows we're boarded up with plywood, eerily almost. The room felt warm, but I wasn't planning on removing my jacket. My boots were greeted by a plush blue rug. The basement of that old house, was surprizingly spacious. Each operator had quite a good amount of room in their favor, not to mention the assortment of equipment on the opposite side of the room. I saw GPS systems, cell phone jammers, Police scanners, a computer dedicated to Front Door Video. I could go on and on. There were various other systems set up, with 5 24' inch Samsung screens set up across 5 desks. I saw different prompts flashing on the screens. Activities no doubt related to our operation. Each desk was it's own design, one aluminum, the other pressed wood, one was even glass panes. Quite an unexpected sight indeed. These were no ordinary people. The 6th was unoccupied, a glass pane suspended on a brushed aluminum frame.
My eyes met with each different operator, and my photographic memory did not fail me. There were 3 out of the 6 members looking back at me. Closest to me, Vince Band. High school drop out from New Jersey. He is the definition of steroid abusing guido. Left his mom when he was 18, currently 20. He was an only child, parents divorced and he chose his mother. Smart kid, but just too cocky. He got caught while hacking into a bank, when he was 17. Scraped by with 100 hours community service. Extremely light punishment considering. He goes by the name of 'Band Aid', surprisingly clever. Next in the row, Chris Mohrayhey. 5'9, Dirty blonde hair, dark brown eyes. Formerly acne ridden face. He worked the books for a large chain lighting shop in Texas, and altered the money system to allow himself a piece of each transaction. Such an overplayed move for someone of his intelligence. He was caught and served 2 years in prison as an adult from 18 to 20. Parents separated shortly after his encounter with the law, he blames himself and since then has not stepped out of line. His father moved to New york, specifically Hudson Valley. It took a lot of coaxing to get him here tonight. I gave his profile a bit of extra attention because of the car he drives. Specifically a 2005 Audi A6. You'd be surprised what kind of information your bank statements can give away about you. I was jealous of his car, but not his attitude. He is due off of his probation in 6 months if his good behavior continues. I don't have to point out the irony in that too do I? Goes by the name 'Moray Eel'. I would've expected better from my 22 year old elder.
"Vince.. Chris.. Good to see you."
"Hey Soul." (They didn't do their homework, tsk tsk.)
I did save the best for last, of course. Kenneth Mason, otherwise known as 'Concrete'. On the FBI watch list because of certain black-hole activities. 19 year old child prodigy. Worked at a Data Centre in Ottawa for a year before he saved enough money to move to the U.S. He wrote a revision of the NetSky virus that I still keep stored on my hard drive, very destructive. He still highly employed by a data filtering company that runs out of NYC. I can't imagine what he's done to them. If I am an angel, then he would defiantly be a demon. Of course, at this time I saw him as a friend. I was blind. He gave me a wave to come and sit next to him. As I approached his desk, I examined it. Two computers, both externally water cooled, probably toting "stolen" quad core processors. He was moving fast through command line interfaces, sending and receiving feedback. He paused his work for a moment, and removed his headset.
"Nice to see you James. I'm glad you had the balls to show. How do you like the setup down here?"
"Pretty decent. Those antennae are jacking cell information huh?"
"Someone knows their hardware, then again I should've expected this from you Soul."
"Too bad I forgot my cell at home, Ken."
"Don't call me that."
"I'll keep that in mind. So, what's the uplink down here?"
"Satellite direct in good old Mama Band's name of course."
"Oh how nice. That explains how he only got off with 100 hours community service."
"We're still waiting on our last member..."
"...Gino Frattelli correct?"
"Yes."
"Where does he fit in here, all of us have.. experience. He does not have any."
"Gino is our equipment guy. You see all that jamming equipment? Yeah, stolen from an evidence locker actually."
"Ah. Nice. So the question I have on my mind, is simply what are we doing here?"
"Once all of us are here, we'll start our little meeting."
I paused from our conversation for a moment to glance around the room. My new friend Vince was snorting a line of white powder off of a mirror. I shudder to the thought that he has or had any credibility at all. He also broke the golden rule. Never break more than one law at once. Then again, this basement broke at least 50 per occupant. I laughed to myself. I can't even think of what could've happened to me had my instincts been wrong about this place, these people. Maybe I should've listened. I heard movement upstairs, and the sound of muffled voices. Our last member had arrived.
"Hello Laura."
I stopped to examine the room for a second. Or maybe I was examining her. I sure don't remember much of the room. She was about 5'4, with long brunette hair. Slender too. But it was too dark to see her eyes. They probably would've given her away. Her dominican and italian mixture gave her olive skin. Her picture didn't give her curves justice.
"James. Nice to finally meet the man behind the Soul." With a sultry wink to top it all off, a well prepared welcome.
"May I come in?"
"Well, they say that vampires can only enter your home if you invite them in. It's too bad you're already in here." She reached for her ear for just a second, and seemed to be talking to herself. "Soul is here. Can he come down?"
She motioned towards the barely lighted staircase. I started to glance around the room to really get a gauge for what I was walking into. It was in essence an abandoned home, that they had hacked themselves into ownership of. Not an easy task, in my opinion. But a few simple changes on a person's will, and the house was theirs. I suppose it wasn't as hard as I originally thought. The stairs we're old and dusty hardwood. It seemed like they were going to give way underneath me, and I was cautious. Ironically, more cautious than when I traversed the icy stairs at my own home.
I looked around the curve of the spiral staircase to see a surprising sight. The room was bright with natural light lamps. The windows we're boarded up with plywood, eerily almost. The room felt warm, but I wasn't planning on removing my jacket. My boots were greeted by a plush blue rug. The basement of that old house, was surprizingly spacious. Each operator had quite a good amount of room in their favor, not to mention the assortment of equipment on the opposite side of the room. I saw GPS systems, cell phone jammers, Police scanners, a computer dedicated to Front Door Video. I could go on and on. There were various other systems set up, with 5 24' inch Samsung screens set up across 5 desks. I saw different prompts flashing on the screens. Activities no doubt related to our operation. Each desk was it's own design, one aluminum, the other pressed wood, one was even glass panes. Quite an unexpected sight indeed. These were no ordinary people. The 6th was unoccupied, a glass pane suspended on a brushed aluminum frame.
My eyes met with each different operator, and my photographic memory did not fail me. There were 3 out of the 6 members looking back at me. Closest to me, Vince Band. High school drop out from New Jersey. He is the definition of steroid abusing guido. Left his mom when he was 18, currently 20. He was an only child, parents divorced and he chose his mother. Smart kid, but just too cocky. He got caught while hacking into a bank, when he was 17. Scraped by with 100 hours community service. Extremely light punishment considering. He goes by the name of 'Band Aid', surprisingly clever. Next in the row, Chris Mohrayhey. 5'9, Dirty blonde hair, dark brown eyes. Formerly acne ridden face. He worked the books for a large chain lighting shop in Texas, and altered the money system to allow himself a piece of each transaction. Such an overplayed move for someone of his intelligence. He was caught and served 2 years in prison as an adult from 18 to 20. Parents separated shortly after his encounter with the law, he blames himself and since then has not stepped out of line. His father moved to New york, specifically Hudson Valley. It took a lot of coaxing to get him here tonight. I gave his profile a bit of extra attention because of the car he drives. Specifically a 2005 Audi A6. You'd be surprised what kind of information your bank statements can give away about you. I was jealous of his car, but not his attitude. He is due off of his probation in 6 months if his good behavior continues. I don't have to point out the irony in that too do I? Goes by the name 'Moray Eel'. I would've expected better from my 22 year old elder.
"Vince.. Chris.. Good to see you."
"Hey Soul." (They didn't do their homework, tsk tsk.)
I did save the best for last, of course. Kenneth Mason, otherwise known as 'Concrete'. On the FBI watch list because of certain black-hole activities. 19 year old child prodigy. Worked at a Data Centre in Ottawa for a year before he saved enough money to move to the U.S. He wrote a revision of the NetSky virus that I still keep stored on my hard drive, very destructive. He still highly employed by a data filtering company that runs out of NYC. I can't imagine what he's done to them. If I am an angel, then he would defiantly be a demon. Of course, at this time I saw him as a friend. I was blind. He gave me a wave to come and sit next to him. As I approached his desk, I examined it. Two computers, both externally water cooled, probably toting "stolen" quad core processors. He was moving fast through command line interfaces, sending and receiving feedback. He paused his work for a moment, and removed his headset.
"Nice to see you James. I'm glad you had the balls to show. How do you like the setup down here?"
"Pretty decent. Those antennae are jacking cell information huh?"
"Someone knows their hardware, then again I should've expected this from you Soul."
"Too bad I forgot my cell at home, Ken."
"Don't call me that."
"I'll keep that in mind. So, what's the uplink down here?"
"Satellite direct in good old Mama Band's name of course."
"Oh how nice. That explains how he only got off with 100 hours community service."
"We're still waiting on our last member..."
"...Gino Frattelli correct?"
"Yes."
"Where does he fit in here, all of us have.. experience. He does not have any."
"Gino is our equipment guy. You see all that jamming equipment? Yeah, stolen from an evidence locker actually."
"Ah. Nice. So the question I have on my mind, is simply what are we doing here?"
"Once all of us are here, we'll start our little meeting."
I paused from our conversation for a moment to glance around the room. My new friend Vince was snorting a line of white powder off of a mirror. I shudder to the thought that he has or had any credibility at all. He also broke the golden rule. Never break more than one law at once. Then again, this basement broke at least 50 per occupant. I laughed to myself. I can't even think of what could've happened to me had my instincts been wrong about this place, these people. Maybe I should've listened. I heard movement upstairs, and the sound of muffled voices. Our last member had arrived.
Chapter 2 "The House"
"Ahhh.." I sighed out loud to myself as the vigorous guitar of Spineshank blasted from my cars humble speakers.
My car picked up pace quickly, after all I made it that way. I quickly reached 90 miles an hour. 100 came quicker. Trees blurred in my peripheral vision. 110 felt more like time was slowing for me. The adrenaline coursing in my veins raised my heart rate, while I gripped the steering wheel tighter with each passing second. 120 and seconds passed like hours. My car started to spin before I even began to realize it. The blurring trees became clear as I hurtled toward them. I had no time to think, no time to react or even get a word in edgewise. Time stopped for a split second, before I was obliterated by the tree. "He was going over 100 miles an hour, on an icy road." The papers would say. "There was nothing left of him." I blinked, and continued down the highway at blistering speed. It's too bad it was all in my head.
"Burn Baby, Burn.. Strung out on a wire" I sang loudly as I flew down the Hutch. No cops tonight, I thought to myself. Free to roam at whatever speed I please. Bullet-Proof skin was blaring out of my speakers and as always I found it ironic. I felt invincible. I reached my exit as the song finished and downshifted to keep from losing control. This part of the Bronx was just as equally desolate as my own hometown. Again, the comfort of the loneliness returned. I reached the destination street with ease, thanks to my memory of this area. I passed by the house, "350 Lafayette Ave... Welcome home." My car responded to my sarcasm with a reminder that I was low on brake fluid. "Yes yes, Don't worry I'll feed you later. I promise."
I parked on Mayflower, 4 blocks away. The last thing I wanted was these people to have was my license plate number and a profile of my car. I shut off my cell phone, stashed my wallet and house keys. I removed the fake identification I had freshly laminated the night before. "Enter... James Agrusa." My name that I had created from my grandfather and grandmother. They would be proud of me, I'm sure. Bootlegging a Massachusetts ID was too easy with the right tools. I admired my handiwork. I also armed myself with a small pocketknife. It would be unwise to come unarmed. I hid my iPod and 7 inch screen. No use drawing unneeded attention from petty thieves.
The cold welcomed me back into it's open arms, as I left my car. The click indicated all of my doors were locked. I stashed my car keys up underneath the chassis of my car. No reason to even give any hints that I even had a car at all. My walk was quick and purposeful as I strode towards "the house" I would come to call it. I memorized my surroundings as I passed. Mentally saving every picture of every detail. Overlooking something important could cost me too much.
This somewhat old, very box-like house sat 3 houses from the corner of this peculiar block. The house reminded me of a real life sandcastle. There were 6 windows, not including the back of the house that I could not see. It was an off-white with yellow rims around the windows. It had a flat roof, with two possible exit points. And no fire escape, which meant it was a single family house. It had a black front door, with a large deadbolt. The steps were ironically the same dull gray that I had seen not 15 minutes ago when I left my house. The lights were off in the house, and I felt singular standing there atop those steps. I searched for activity in the windows, almost desperately. Without even motioning for the doorbell, or any sort of indication of my presence. I stood there, for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, I heard sounds behind the door. The large black door creaked as it swung open.
(End Chapter 2)
My car picked up pace quickly, after all I made it that way. I quickly reached 90 miles an hour. 100 came quicker. Trees blurred in my peripheral vision. 110 felt more like time was slowing for me. The adrenaline coursing in my veins raised my heart rate, while I gripped the steering wheel tighter with each passing second. 120 and seconds passed like hours. My car started to spin before I even began to realize it. The blurring trees became clear as I hurtled toward them. I had no time to think, no time to react or even get a word in edgewise. Time stopped for a split second, before I was obliterated by the tree. "He was going over 100 miles an hour, on an icy road." The papers would say. "There was nothing left of him." I blinked, and continued down the highway at blistering speed. It's too bad it was all in my head.
"Burn Baby, Burn.. Strung out on a wire" I sang loudly as I flew down the Hutch. No cops tonight, I thought to myself. Free to roam at whatever speed I please. Bullet-Proof skin was blaring out of my speakers and as always I found it ironic. I felt invincible. I reached my exit as the song finished and downshifted to keep from losing control. This part of the Bronx was just as equally desolate as my own hometown. Again, the comfort of the loneliness returned. I reached the destination street with ease, thanks to my memory of this area. I passed by the house, "350 Lafayette Ave... Welcome home." My car responded to my sarcasm with a reminder that I was low on brake fluid. "Yes yes, Don't worry I'll feed you later. I promise."
I parked on Mayflower, 4 blocks away. The last thing I wanted was these people to have was my license plate number and a profile of my car. I shut off my cell phone, stashed my wallet and house keys. I removed the fake identification I had freshly laminated the night before. "Enter... James Agrusa." My name that I had created from my grandfather and grandmother. They would be proud of me, I'm sure. Bootlegging a Massachusetts ID was too easy with the right tools. I admired my handiwork. I also armed myself with a small pocketknife. It would be unwise to come unarmed. I hid my iPod and 7 inch screen. No use drawing unneeded attention from petty thieves.
The cold welcomed me back into it's open arms, as I left my car. The click indicated all of my doors were locked. I stashed my car keys up underneath the chassis of my car. No reason to even give any hints that I even had a car at all. My walk was quick and purposeful as I strode towards "the house" I would come to call it. I memorized my surroundings as I passed. Mentally saving every picture of every detail. Overlooking something important could cost me too much.
This somewhat old, very box-like house sat 3 houses from the corner of this peculiar block. The house reminded me of a real life sandcastle. There were 6 windows, not including the back of the house that I could not see. It was an off-white with yellow rims around the windows. It had a flat roof, with two possible exit points. And no fire escape, which meant it was a single family house. It had a black front door, with a large deadbolt. The steps were ironically the same dull gray that I had seen not 15 minutes ago when I left my house. The lights were off in the house, and I felt singular standing there atop those steps. I searched for activity in the windows, almost desperately. Without even motioning for the doorbell, or any sort of indication of my presence. I stood there, for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, I heard sounds behind the door. The large black door creaked as it swung open.
(End Chapter 2)
Chapter 1 "Snowy Night"
"Life is beautiful when you're numb." I have this quote to say to myself, over and over again.
I remember the night that I found out what I really was, even to this very moment as vividly if it was happening right now.
It was 3:56AM, on a beautifully crisp Friday morning.
"I probably shouldn't be doing this." I said to myself, as I exited my house via my side door. I was greeted by the same solemn gray steps as when I entered earlier that night. This time though, they glistened in the streetlight, having a thin sheet of ice over them. In hindsight, this was the most beautiful foreshadowing I've ever seen. But I chose just to walk as normal, with the subconscious wish to die by broken neck. That wish did not come true that night, to my dismay. This night was pure winter, the epitome of beauty in my mind. It was silent except for the light breeze washing over the near leafless trees. Light crisp snowfall shined in the streetlight, covering the grass and ground. The air I could almost taste as it filled my lungs, cold but refreshing. My black boots crunched the snow as I made my way towards the large white object that was my car. The moon was high in the sky, clashing with the orange glow of the streetlights, completing the serenity of the night. Their silent war could not have been more comforting. In my car I found no refuge from the cold, but this wasn't what was seeking. The click of the key entering my ignition was so loud on this quiet night. I even felt remorse that my engine would have to break this amazing silence. And yet, my engine came to life immediately, purring as it warmed to operating temperature. For 15 years old, it still purred vivaciously.
"Off We go." I said to myself, and my car as I shifted from Park into Drive. The light snowfall removed itself from my vision almost immediately after I started to move. My lights guided my way off my street, and onto the adjacent Wolfs Lane. It was a desolate night, and the loneliness was comforting. My cabin temperature remained at it's original temperature and I had no intention of warming it. I could still see my breath floating in the air, lingering slightly.. as if it was waiting for something. My iPod had not immediately started to play, but abruptly reminded me of it's presence with the sound of a loud guitar riff. So much for the beautiful silence of the night. I made the turn onto the on-ramp of Hutchinson Parkway Southbound easily, and my fingers went to work on my iPod. I picked out my playlist, simply labeled "Burn Baby, Burn." Telling the story over again, just lets me realize how much irony there was in the air that night.
I remember the night that I found out what I really was, even to this very moment as vividly if it was happening right now.
It was 3:56AM, on a beautifully crisp Friday morning.
"I probably shouldn't be doing this." I said to myself, as I exited my house via my side door. I was greeted by the same solemn gray steps as when I entered earlier that night. This time though, they glistened in the streetlight, having a thin sheet of ice over them. In hindsight, this was the most beautiful foreshadowing I've ever seen. But I chose just to walk as normal, with the subconscious wish to die by broken neck. That wish did not come true that night, to my dismay. This night was pure winter, the epitome of beauty in my mind. It was silent except for the light breeze washing over the near leafless trees. Light crisp snowfall shined in the streetlight, covering the grass and ground. The air I could almost taste as it filled my lungs, cold but refreshing. My black boots crunched the snow as I made my way towards the large white object that was my car. The moon was high in the sky, clashing with the orange glow of the streetlights, completing the serenity of the night. Their silent war could not have been more comforting. In my car I found no refuge from the cold, but this wasn't what was seeking. The click of the key entering my ignition was so loud on this quiet night. I even felt remorse that my engine would have to break this amazing silence. And yet, my engine came to life immediately, purring as it warmed to operating temperature. For 15 years old, it still purred vivaciously.
"Off We go." I said to myself, and my car as I shifted from Park into Drive. The light snowfall removed itself from my vision almost immediately after I started to move. My lights guided my way off my street, and onto the adjacent Wolfs Lane. It was a desolate night, and the loneliness was comforting. My cabin temperature remained at it's original temperature and I had no intention of warming it. I could still see my breath floating in the air, lingering slightly.. as if it was waiting for something. My iPod had not immediately started to play, but abruptly reminded me of it's presence with the sound of a loud guitar riff. So much for the beautiful silence of the night. I made the turn onto the on-ramp of Hutchinson Parkway Southbound easily, and my fingers went to work on my iPod. I picked out my playlist, simply labeled "Burn Baby, Burn." Telling the story over again, just lets me realize how much irony there was in the air that night.
Nobody Knows Me.
Nobody really knows anybody, the undertone of human existence.
People take pride in knowing their friends, in being able to predict their actions, and reactions.
My pride, lies in everyone I know. I know they all have their monsters, living inside them.
Waiting, patiently. Waiting for that vulnerable point where they can unleash themselves.
It's beautiful, the human mind. It can't handle it's own consciousness, which is by far the most irony I've ever seen.
Us as a species, take pride in the fact that we have an upper level, but the irony is that we've lost touch with the lower levels.
Has nature forced us to adapt, and disregard these basic functions for advanced ones?
But then why are there still people that bring themselves back down?
Nobody really knows me, mainly because I don't know me.
And I love it.
It reminds me that I'm still alive, just for the simple fact that I'm an open ended equation. We are all open ended equations. For instance, I could get up right now (3:43AM) tear off all of my clothes, and run outside naked for as long as I pleased. Who is to tell me that I can't or won't do this? Nobody. The dangers, including cold, police activity and animals may keep a (sane) person from attempting such a feat. Who won't join me?
I'm constantly screaming on the inside.
I'll play out the situation in my head, where I get up, scream and run out of the room numerous times.
Wishing that it would be that easy to erase my mind into subtle bliss. I'm constantly at war with myself, every single minute.
Second guessing, and justifying things that I've done. I'm a terrible person, whether it be in my head, or otherwise. And I'm o.k. with all of that. I realize that after so many years of criticism, the only regret I have, is not finding what it really means to be alive sooner. I'm enjoying my open ended equation, while it's still there to enjoy, so tell me.. Are you?
I don't know you, and you don't know me.
But thats the best part, of knowing you.
People take pride in knowing their friends, in being able to predict their actions, and reactions.
My pride, lies in everyone I know. I know they all have their monsters, living inside them.
Waiting, patiently. Waiting for that vulnerable point where they can unleash themselves.
It's beautiful, the human mind. It can't handle it's own consciousness, which is by far the most irony I've ever seen.
Us as a species, take pride in the fact that we have an upper level, but the irony is that we've lost touch with the lower levels.
Has nature forced us to adapt, and disregard these basic functions for advanced ones?
But then why are there still people that bring themselves back down?
Nobody really knows me, mainly because I don't know me.
And I love it.
It reminds me that I'm still alive, just for the simple fact that I'm an open ended equation. We are all open ended equations. For instance, I could get up right now (3:43AM) tear off all of my clothes, and run outside naked for as long as I pleased. Who is to tell me that I can't or won't do this? Nobody. The dangers, including cold, police activity and animals may keep a (sane) person from attempting such a feat. Who won't join me?
I'm constantly screaming on the inside.
I'll play out the situation in my head, where I get up, scream and run out of the room numerous times.
Wishing that it would be that easy to erase my mind into subtle bliss. I'm constantly at war with myself, every single minute.
Second guessing, and justifying things that I've done. I'm a terrible person, whether it be in my head, or otherwise. And I'm o.k. with all of that. I realize that after so many years of criticism, the only regret I have, is not finding what it really means to be alive sooner. I'm enjoying my open ended equation, while it's still there to enjoy, so tell me.. Are you?
I don't know you, and you don't know me.
But thats the best part, of knowing you.
I am too controlled for that... Maybe.
Ever do something that you regret?
No doubt the answer to that question is yes. Everybody has.
But, what if it was the opposite?
What if you're so calculating that you never really do something you regret?
You'd almost desire to push yourself to take that step. To examine what is holding you back.
(I took you home.. Set you on the glass.)
A thirst to be selfish and impulsive. The harbinger of your fall from perfection.
(I pulled off your wings, and I laughed.)
Like there is something there, than you are missing. Some element that you have forsaken, reluctantly.
(I look at the cross.. Than I look away.)
But at the same time, you forsake your own morals by yearning for this.. Change.
(I give you the gun... Blow me away.)
You suffer the consequences of your actions, as everyone does. Beautiful consequences, disguised as monsters.
(Now you feel, so alive.)
I'm too controlled for that.
Just too calculating.
Just too smart.
Is it really lying to yourself if you know the truth anyway?
Inside, we are all out of control.
We are all burning, in so many directions.
Look into my eyes, into the my firestorm.
But don't come too close.
Don't fuel my fire.
No doubt the answer to that question is yes. Everybody has.
But, what if it was the opposite?
What if you're so calculating that you never really do something you regret?
You'd almost desire to push yourself to take that step. To examine what is holding you back.
(I took you home.. Set you on the glass.)
A thirst to be selfish and impulsive. The harbinger of your fall from perfection.
(I pulled off your wings, and I laughed.)
Like there is something there, than you are missing. Some element that you have forsaken, reluctantly.
(I look at the cross.. Than I look away.)
But at the same time, you forsake your own morals by yearning for this.. Change.
(I give you the gun... Blow me away.)
You suffer the consequences of your actions, as everyone does. Beautiful consequences, disguised as monsters.
(Now you feel, so alive.)
I'm too controlled for that.
Just too calculating.
Just too smart.
Is it really lying to yourself if you know the truth anyway?
Inside, we are all out of control.
We are all burning, in so many directions.
Look into my eyes, into the my firestorm.
But don't come too close.
Don't fuel my fire.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Distracted.
I'm trying to think of happiness, as a straight feeling. But I just can't put my finger on it.
I'm trying to think of pure sadness, and thats pretty common. Easy to recreate. Something that I'm chained to.
I'm trying to think of why, instead of absolute happiness, there is only the feeling like I'm distracted from my sadness.
(Thanks T for this one, by the way.)
Like, there's always an undertone underneath my temporary insanity. (Happiness)
Because I never feel truly pure anymore. (Sadness.)
Always diluted, with some aftertaste. Constantly eating at my stature, at my decisions, at myself. Or what I think to be myself. (Happiness)
Too often I've second guessed myself because of this leash.. keeping me at close range. (Sadness.)
Because I'm afraid that breaking away from the leash, just means that my keeper comes to find me to punish me. (Happiness)
I want to know what you have to offer, world. Who, where, why, what you have to offer me. (Never)
I've wanted to all the tastes that everyone else seems to enjoy, just once. (Don't)
To feel young, and free. Before its too late. (Can't)
Please help me. Lead me. (No)
No? (Yes.)
But maybe I don't need them.
I've always been different.
Always been... something else.
Maybe for once I don't want to be treated like something else.
Maybe I'm just a shell filled with nothing.
Maybe I have no idea who I am, what I want and where I'm going?
I have no idea who I am, what I want and where I'm going.
And if thats o.k. with you, then thats o.k. with me.
I'm trying to think of pure sadness, and thats pretty common. Easy to recreate. Something that I'm chained to.
I'm trying to think of why, instead of absolute happiness, there is only the feeling like I'm distracted from my sadness.
(Thanks T for this one, by the way.)
Like, there's always an undertone underneath my temporary insanity. (Happiness)
Because I never feel truly pure anymore. (Sadness.)
Always diluted, with some aftertaste. Constantly eating at my stature, at my decisions, at myself. Or what I think to be myself. (Happiness)
Too often I've second guessed myself because of this leash.. keeping me at close range. (Sadness.)
Because I'm afraid that breaking away from the leash, just means that my keeper comes to find me to punish me. (Happiness)
I want to know what you have to offer, world. Who, where, why, what you have to offer me. (Never)
I've wanted to all the tastes that everyone else seems to enjoy, just once. (Don't)
To feel young, and free. Before its too late. (Can't)
Please help me. Lead me. (No)
No? (Yes.)
But maybe I don't need them.
I've always been different.
Always been... something else.
Maybe for once I don't want to be treated like something else.
Maybe I'm just a shell filled with nothing.
Maybe I have no idea who I am, what I want and where I'm going?
I have no idea who I am, what I want and where I'm going.
And if thats o.k. with you, then thats o.k. with me.
Old Soul.
I have stood at the edge of reality.
Long after others have fallen asleep.
But, right before the day starts anew.
I have watched autumn leaves fall...
Ticking time away, seconds.. one by one falling away.
I have bathed in the seconds.. Letting then rain over me.
Fall over me.. Fall through me.
I have stood alone in the cold. Bathing in the falling seconds of my life.
Cold, but content. Almost as if the cold was my warmth.
My winter serenity comforts me.
I have stood still.. Within this timeless metaphor.
Within the timeless metaphor that I have built my life around.
I have stood at the edge of reality.
With eyes open wide to the beautiful peace that I have found.
Waiting right outside my front door.
The moon lighting the trees brightly through their yellow leaves..
In a black sky, not void of stars.
The leaves softly falling around and onto me.
The vivid colors of the sea of leaves I am standing in.
The light brisk winter air touches my face.. My entire body.
Touching my heart.. igniting my memory.
Awakening the side of me that I try and hide.
Solemn, serene, silent, content but lonely.
My old soul, so to speak.
I have stood at the edge of reality.
And there, I am someone new.
I am just myself.
Quietly.
Long after others have fallen asleep.
But, right before the day starts anew.
I have watched autumn leaves fall...
Ticking time away, seconds.. one by one falling away.
I have bathed in the seconds.. Letting then rain over me.
Fall over me.. Fall through me.
I have stood alone in the cold. Bathing in the falling seconds of my life.
Cold, but content. Almost as if the cold was my warmth.
My winter serenity comforts me.
I have stood still.. Within this timeless metaphor.
Within the timeless metaphor that I have built my life around.
I have stood at the edge of reality.
With eyes open wide to the beautiful peace that I have found.
Waiting right outside my front door.
The moon lighting the trees brightly through their yellow leaves..
In a black sky, not void of stars.
The leaves softly falling around and onto me.
The vivid colors of the sea of leaves I am standing in.
The light brisk winter air touches my face.. My entire body.
Touching my heart.. igniting my memory.
Awakening the side of me that I try and hide.
Solemn, serene, silent, content but lonely.
My old soul, so to speak.
I have stood at the edge of reality.
And there, I am someone new.
I am just myself.
Quietly.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Similarities.
In my short experience, everyone is exactly the same.
We all play games with each other.
Titillating each other with different mannerisims and conduct.
I'd to say that I'm as real as my own touch.
But that theory alone fails to adequately describe how touch feels and how real it is.
Next time you feel sad, step back from yourself.
For just a moment, and realize that sadness; (or any emotion for that matter) is just a part of the game.
I'm not sure if I'm the only one who constantly feels like their inside a shell.
Google -- Cold And Bitter Outlook On Everything.
(You won't find anything, but if I think this should pop up first.)
Each person has a code of behavior that is their... key.
Key to making them vulnerable, to triggering some sort of reaction -- This key is defined early in life.
Whether it be fixation on a certain stereotype situation, or parental guidence, it's predefined.
This is why they say that opposites attract, the behavioral reflection of both of the beings is predefining.
Some people just can't conform to the standards of one another, or are just too stupid.
Too often it is the latter, which is slightly disappointing, but somehow expected.
The dynamics to the system are quite bemusing at cursory glance.
It's scary how so many people can work and respond off each other.
And sometimes it's completely inexplicable how peoples dynamics change.
It's overwhelming trying to comprehend the difference instances.
My question, that I've been saving is simply, Why bother?
It seems to me that all of this is just complication on top of base thoughts.
It makes incredibly more sense to stick to being alone then subjecting yourself to such madness.
And yet we constantly fall into the same patterns constantly.
I'd love to say that I haven't or I don't, since I'm indignant towards it.
But it's happened to me time and time again.
I just don't get it.
We all play games with each other.
Titillating each other with different mannerisims and conduct.
I'd to say that I'm as real as my own touch.
But that theory alone fails to adequately describe how touch feels and how real it is.
Next time you feel sad, step back from yourself.
For just a moment, and realize that sadness; (or any emotion for that matter) is just a part of the game.
I'm not sure if I'm the only one who constantly feels like their inside a shell.
Google -- Cold And Bitter Outlook On Everything.
(You won't find anything, but if I think this should pop up first.)
Each person has a code of behavior that is their... key.
Key to making them vulnerable, to triggering some sort of reaction -- This key is defined early in life.
Whether it be fixation on a certain stereotype situation, or parental guidence, it's predefined.
This is why they say that opposites attract, the behavioral reflection of both of the beings is predefining.
Some people just can't conform to the standards of one another, or are just too stupid.
Too often it is the latter, which is slightly disappointing, but somehow expected.
The dynamics to the system are quite bemusing at cursory glance.
It's scary how so many people can work and respond off each other.
And sometimes it's completely inexplicable how peoples dynamics change.
It's overwhelming trying to comprehend the difference instances.
My question, that I've been saving is simply, Why bother?
It seems to me that all of this is just complication on top of base thoughts.
It makes incredibly more sense to stick to being alone then subjecting yourself to such madness.
And yet we constantly fall into the same patterns constantly.
I'd love to say that I haven't or I don't, since I'm indignant towards it.
But it's happened to me time and time again.
I just don't get it.
Sleepless.
The irony of sweet caress, is that nothing truly matters.
Moments turn to hours to quickly, destroying those futile seconds.
But there is a hurricane behind those eyes.
Mesmerizing as they are, I can see slightly deeper.
Only slightly, as your mystery proceeds you.
But just enough to glance at that terrible storm.
"No one is really happy alone..."
Well, some people are I suppose. But being alone is really just a state of mind. Since being with someone else is an extension of their state of mind to yours.
I've come to a sad realization in these passing minutes.
That all attempts for forestall the change into my father have failed.
And that in the end I'm just as emotionally detached.
Not as you might believe that means.
I understand emotions, I have for a long time.
I emulate them perfectly.
Nothing really matters, is a quote that defines my character.
All moments, if you step back from yourself for a moment,
Really are just temporary. So why attach complication?
I wish somebody really knew me.
So they could tell me who I am.
Or who I was.
Or anything at all.
Take my soul away.
Moments turn to hours to quickly, destroying those futile seconds.
But there is a hurricane behind those eyes.
Mesmerizing as they are, I can see slightly deeper.
Only slightly, as your mystery proceeds you.
But just enough to glance at that terrible storm.
"No one is really happy alone..."
Well, some people are I suppose. But being alone is really just a state of mind. Since being with someone else is an extension of their state of mind to yours.
I've come to a sad realization in these passing minutes.
That all attempts for forestall the change into my father have failed.
And that in the end I'm just as emotionally detached.
Not as you might believe that means.
I understand emotions, I have for a long time.
I emulate them perfectly.
Nothing really matters, is a quote that defines my character.
All moments, if you step back from yourself for a moment,
Really are just temporary. So why attach complication?
I wish somebody really knew me.
So they could tell me who I am.
Or who I was.
Or anything at all.
Take my soul away.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
My demons and angels constantly wage war upon each other.
Some elders, others are newborn. They all have the same significance.
I've always been trapped square in the middle of this war. Lost and confused.
Nothing is ever really clear cut, and everything falls in the overlap.
(too tired to continue for now.)
Some elders, others are newborn. They all have the same significance.
I've always been trapped square in the middle of this war. Lost and confused.
Nothing is ever really clear cut, and everything falls in the overlap.
(too tired to continue for now.)
Friday, November 9, 2007
Monsters.
We are the monsters that live in your head.
That gnaw on your thoughts.
That ravage the integrity of your decision.
We are the plague that infests the beauty of your life.
Corrupting everything about you.
Taking the emptiness and stretching it until it encompasses you.
We are, we are the monsters.
Sharp fangs, claws, red eyes.
We are the red eye behind your blue eyes.
That comes out only in still frame.
We are just under the skin,
Waiting for a paper cut release.
We are everything you wished you weren't,
You wished you didn't, You wished you couldn't,
We are your regret, and sorrow, and dissatisfaction.
We are.
We are.
Your monsters and you can't hold us back anymore.
That gnaw on your thoughts.
That ravage the integrity of your decision.
We are the plague that infests the beauty of your life.
Corrupting everything about you.
Taking the emptiness and stretching it until it encompasses you.
We are, we are the monsters.
Sharp fangs, claws, red eyes.
We are the red eye behind your blue eyes.
That comes out only in still frame.
We are just under the skin,
Waiting for a paper cut release.
We are everything you wished you weren't,
You wished you didn't, You wished you couldn't,
We are your regret, and sorrow, and dissatisfaction.
We are.
We are.
Your monsters and you can't hold us back anymore.
Ghost Trails.
The beautiful part about being emotionally void is the ability to answer simply with "fine" whenever someone asks you if everything is o.k. and mean it.
They say that trauma is an everlasting imprint on your personality. It'll eventually start to shape it, if you're put through enough.
Have you ever looked through a camera when it had ghost trails turned on?
Everything leaves a light path. Well, lately thats what I see everything as. Just looking around, glancing around the room. Everything is leaving trails across my mind.
Kind of like the image is echoing, but slightly more in depth.
They call it, subliminal suicide. You participate in an activity that is extremely hazardous to your heath, because there is some part of you that wishes for death.
I spend so much time in my head, that it's getting harder and harder to focus on things. It's really quite a plague on my life. Having a photographic memory, means reliving every single horror story that you've witnessed every second that you allow it to happen. It means when everyone else's mind is quiet and asleep, yours is cranking away playing backwards and rewinding. It means insomnia. Permanently. It's a curse.
Everything burns a little brighter when you're dying.
They say that trauma is an everlasting imprint on your personality. It'll eventually start to shape it, if you're put through enough.
Have you ever looked through a camera when it had ghost trails turned on?
Everything leaves a light path. Well, lately thats what I see everything as. Just looking around, glancing around the room. Everything is leaving trails across my mind.
Kind of like the image is echoing, but slightly more in depth.
They call it, subliminal suicide. You participate in an activity that is extremely hazardous to your heath, because there is some part of you that wishes for death.
I spend so much time in my head, that it's getting harder and harder to focus on things. It's really quite a plague on my life. Having a photographic memory, means reliving every single horror story that you've witnessed every second that you allow it to happen. It means when everyone else's mind is quiet and asleep, yours is cranking away playing backwards and rewinding. It means insomnia. Permanently. It's a curse.
Everything burns a little brighter when you're dying.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Disconnected.
I've been narrating my own life for a long time.
Kind of like I've been going through the motions, but not quite there.
Like, I'm reading my own story from a book. Only with the most vivid realism no book could quite capture.
Come to think of it... Even as a child of 6. Surrounded by a ring of electronic parts. Wires. Batteries. Light bulbs. Microchips.
As I did things, in my "safe haven" I guess I'll call it, I would say everything I did, like I was telling a story.
For as long as I can remember, I always felt like their were two people in my head. Not in a schizophrenic manor though. My studies of psychology have thought me well I suppose. More as, like I said. One person was making the decisions, and the other was simply watching and narrating.
Everyone questions behavior. It's a part of being human. But their are certain activities in which people just do not question. They accept them as what they are, without further insight.
I have always felt disconnected from most other people because of this. Felt like the neurotic behavior that shares a common thread in everyone was slowly driving me off the edge. That each and every moment of it that I endure slowly eats away at my superiority. That some way, I had become infected by instinct. Something I swore to myself a long time ago, never to let take over.
--Instinct is something that lives inside us all. Base. Impulsive. No third layer thought process comprehends the full extent of instinct simply because it cannot understand the actions it indirectly poses. If the third layer fails, it simply defaults back to the base code. Also known as instinct. Thought evolution, by definition is the movement of a third layer thought process into base level thinking. Hence, completely modifying those "instincts" to call for more than just impulse. Making the host, smarter. --
If you watch people close enough, you can watch this actually take place. Interesting.
So. What's at the top of your brain?
Kind of like I've been going through the motions, but not quite there.
Like, I'm reading my own story from a book. Only with the most vivid realism no book could quite capture.
Come to think of it... Even as a child of 6. Surrounded by a ring of electronic parts. Wires. Batteries. Light bulbs. Microchips.
As I did things, in my "safe haven" I guess I'll call it, I would say everything I did, like I was telling a story.
For as long as I can remember, I always felt like their were two people in my head. Not in a schizophrenic manor though. My studies of psychology have thought me well I suppose. More as, like I said. One person was making the decisions, and the other was simply watching and narrating.
Everyone questions behavior. It's a part of being human. But their are certain activities in which people just do not question. They accept them as what they are, without further insight.
I have always felt disconnected from most other people because of this. Felt like the neurotic behavior that shares a common thread in everyone was slowly driving me off the edge. That each and every moment of it that I endure slowly eats away at my superiority. That some way, I had become infected by instinct. Something I swore to myself a long time ago, never to let take over.
--Instinct is something that lives inside us all. Base. Impulsive. No third layer thought process comprehends the full extent of instinct simply because it cannot understand the actions it indirectly poses. If the third layer fails, it simply defaults back to the base code. Also known as instinct. Thought evolution, by definition is the movement of a third layer thought process into base level thinking. Hence, completely modifying those "instincts" to call for more than just impulse. Making the host, smarter. --
If you watch people close enough, you can watch this actually take place. Interesting.
So. What's at the top of your brain?
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Ending October. Starting November.
Tonight was a tough night to pick a topic for.
Too many things circling around in my head to really get anything truly right. But I'll try anyway.
Your weakness is my weakness.
Destruction in it's existence.
It eats at the underlying process of my life.
Destroying all that seems right.
I've watched you change.
Your ressurection out of your own impending death,
Always seemed so iminent.
Your own grave that you dug yourself.
And you were so ready to fill with your own flesh.
I'm tired of filling this hole with concrete.
And then watching, helplessly, as you blow it all away.
I've got the same scars.
Most hidden below the surface of my skin.
I wish all of you could see them. But theres too many, too complicated to explain.
I've been a savior for too many years. Don't be so vain.
I'm not Anybody's angel. Though I was yours.
I don't know who I am anymore.
Though I never really have.
I think thats the problem.
I've felt like No One for as long as I can remember.
It makes it really hard to realize that I just might be someone after all.
Don't you get it?
Set me free. Just becareful when you do.
I stood there.
At two seperate times.
I watched life get thrown away.
TOO MANY TIMES.
More than zero.
You'd think once was enough?
That I didn't learn the lessons of life.
Twice times the charm I suppose.
And how dare you of all people?
Of every single person on the planet?
The closest of close to myself.
And somehow that is better?
All that was, was selfish.
Just like the first time.
The beautiful irony that I never wanted to admit.
Selfish?
I miss you both.
I miss No One Formerly James.
I guess October really is the happiest time of year.
Too many things circling around in my head to really get anything truly right. But I'll try anyway.
Your weakness is my weakness.
Destruction in it's existence.
It eats at the underlying process of my life.
Destroying all that seems right.
I've watched you change.
Your ressurection out of your own impending death,
Always seemed so iminent.
Your own grave that you dug yourself.
And you were so ready to fill with your own flesh.
I'm tired of filling this hole with concrete.
And then watching, helplessly, as you blow it all away.
I've got the same scars.
Most hidden below the surface of my skin.
I wish all of you could see them. But theres too many, too complicated to explain.
I've been a savior for too many years. Don't be so vain.
I'm not Anybody's angel. Though I was yours.
I don't know who I am anymore.
Though I never really have.
I think thats the problem.
I've felt like No One for as long as I can remember.
It makes it really hard to realize that I just might be someone after all.
Don't you get it?
Set me free. Just becareful when you do.
I stood there.
At two seperate times.
I watched life get thrown away.
TOO MANY TIMES.
More than zero.
You'd think once was enough?
That I didn't learn the lessons of life.
Twice times the charm I suppose.
And how dare you of all people?
Of every single person on the planet?
The closest of close to myself.
And somehow that is better?
All that was, was selfish.
Just like the first time.
The beautiful irony that I never wanted to admit.
Selfish?
I miss you both.
I miss No One Formerly James.
I guess October really is the happiest time of year.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Beautiful Sunset.
What a beautiful sunset.
Right by the sandy coastline.
Small homes line the narrow streets.
The tide is high tonight.
What a beautiful sunset.
Shining over the water.
It's reflection mesmerizes.
The engine revvs high and roars toward water.
It pierces the fence with ease.
And hurtles onto the beach.
Soaring with machine grace into the water.
The engine is quiet now.
The fallen beast's master sits quietly.
Accepting fates hijacked control.
Water has come to steal the air from his lungs.
His eyes peer upwards. Finally.
What a beautiful sunset.
Right by the sandy coastline.
Small homes line the narrow streets.
The tide is high tonight.
What a beautiful sunset.
Shining over the water.
It's reflection mesmerizes.
The engine revvs high and roars toward water.
It pierces the fence with ease.
And hurtles onto the beach.
Soaring with machine grace into the water.
The engine is quiet now.
The fallen beast's master sits quietly.
Accepting fates hijacked control.
Water has come to steal the air from his lungs.
His eyes peer upwards. Finally.
What a beautiful sunset.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Realistic Position.
Tomorrow, everybody dies.
Yes, not extremely likely. But imagine it.
Imagine that some intelligent life comes to earth. Sees everything wrecked.
And makes inferences and educated guesses (just as we might've done had it been us.)
Now, imagine. You are a becoming an exhibit in a museum.
They are going to put you in a "realistic position" or doing some sort of activity.
Whats your realistic position? What would you be doing or saying or anything?
Think about how much you do said activity. How big a part of your life it is.
Now try and think for a moment, what your life and you would be like without that
item/activity? Post your answers and then I'll post mine.
Yes, not extremely likely. But imagine it.
Imagine that some intelligent life comes to earth. Sees everything wrecked.
And makes inferences and educated guesses (just as we might've done had it been us.)
Now, imagine. You are a becoming an exhibit in a museum.
They are going to put you in a "realistic position" or doing some sort of activity.
Whats your realistic position? What would you be doing or saying or anything?
Think about how much you do said activity. How big a part of your life it is.
Now try and think for a moment, what your life and you would be like without that
item/activity? Post your answers and then I'll post mine.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
The difference is submininal.
Catch the irony, if you might. Of the world we live in.
Just take a breath and smell it, so to speak.
Watch things that you find to be normal, and see your own abnormality.
People don't realize themselves sometimes, something I've learned and has been very much reinforced.
They don't realize how smart people really are, or how stupid.
I couldn't tell you how many times my vacant expressions have let people shrug me off as a non-thinking head.
Thats wonderful and all, but sadly they were wrong and played right into my game.
It's better, in my very shallow opinon, to think of most things in life as simply a game.
Not the important stuff mind you, but the mind-tactfulness of everyday life is fun to play around with.
Really test if people seem to notice themselves, try and give them a wake up call.
Think about a subconsious action, and watch it get corrupted by the consious mind.
Test this on other people.
We're all really the same, and if so than this theory stands for everybody.
Now really pick your mind to realize that, if this is true... Is the consious mind where errors occur?
The subconsious mind is an area were exactness seems to always prevail.
The subconsious mind is the driving force in learning and pretty much any day to day action.
So, is it really the consious or unconsious mind that we are trying to teach?
Good question don't you think?
Just take a breath and smell it, so to speak.
Watch things that you find to be normal, and see your own abnormality.
People don't realize themselves sometimes, something I've learned and has been very much reinforced.
They don't realize how smart people really are, or how stupid.
I couldn't tell you how many times my vacant expressions have let people shrug me off as a non-thinking head.
Thats wonderful and all, but sadly they were wrong and played right into my game.
It's better, in my very shallow opinon, to think of most things in life as simply a game.
Not the important stuff mind you, but the mind-tactfulness of everyday life is fun to play around with.
Really test if people seem to notice themselves, try and give them a wake up call.
Think about a subconsious action, and watch it get corrupted by the consious mind.
Test this on other people.
We're all really the same, and if so than this theory stands for everybody.
Now really pick your mind to realize that, if this is true... Is the consious mind where errors occur?
The subconsious mind is an area were exactness seems to always prevail.
The subconsious mind is the driving force in learning and pretty much any day to day action.
So, is it really the consious or unconsious mind that we are trying to teach?
Good question don't you think?
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