Demons wail in the chapel of Hell

I stood on the tracks exasperated and unable to move. Though a decision had to be made, I refused to budge. Only a train could move me now I thought, and it was now or never. John called out to me from a distance, and I reluctantly began to advance toward him, disregarding the signal from my brain, which was telling me to stop. Louder and louder it became, this woeful sound, which completely blew my head and that sound was music. It wasn't olde tyme music with a carnival atmosphere, or a barbershop quartet performing wayside. Never would I hear such melodies, thrilling my heart and filling my soul with passion! That ticket was taken from me for the age had long since passed and the present
had descended upon me like a plague. The 1890's were diminishing at an incredible rate and like an exploding star in the firmament of Heaven, it was gone. I felt miserable and I felt cheated, for I was now the locust born out of season; the writer with no hands. As I wracked my brain to try and
make that music stop, I found it was a futile attempt. With each step I took, I grew more and more disparaged. Like being prodded off the highest of high boards, there was no escape. As the music became audible to my ears, I was now able to hear some of the words to what he was saying. "I'm going off the rails on the crazy train!" Of all the songs in the world, why does that have to be the one playing now? I didn't understand it, but realized it had something to do with the chain of events that would follow.

✹ Why couldn't Boeing Duveen and The Beautiful Soup, be allowed to grace the airwaves with that insidious Lewis Carroll poem of utter madness entitled, "Jabberwock?" Better still, Faine Jade, serenade us with their untouchable classic, "Introspection?" Then, not only would I be able to relate to it, but I would be in psychedelic heaven as well! Even more so
I might add, "Lollipop minds" by Wimple Winch! That song has enough acid in it to send even the most advanced hippies into a love induced coma, but I simply adore it. It is who I am. ✹

My mind was now full of bitterness and loathing. The evil had set in and the devil worshipers were out in droves, whilst I, just wanted to get past this station intact. How many of them were there, and what was going to happen to us? Were they going to pelt us with bottles? Shout names at us? Spit on us? Throw awful bags of shit on us? I honestly did not know what to expect! As we slowly drifted pass the Annadale station, it seems I had created the whole scenario in my mind. I was anticipating to see something like the Turnbull AC's packing the station but instead, it turned out to be just the opposite!

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An old man standing next to a raggy teenager who was rather demure
in stature. God, what a relief, I thought in my mind as I approached the station. He was approximately five feet away, the old man, and as he inhaled that cigarette, he looked as though he were in Hawai'i! There was less than a puff left, but this old fellow would smoke that beloved cigarette right down to the cough! He then sucked on that cackling filter as it melted and burned while emitting those crude toxins that made his eyes all runny. God I thought, that must be like smoking insulation!

I was relieved in a sense that we weren't going to get jumped and clubbed
to death like three poor defenseless seals, but yet, there was still a part of
me wading in despair. I saw the metal sign bearing the name of the stations stop and noticed that it had been defaced by vandals. The sign read in
close approximating letters, Banannadale. It seems you can't escape the degradation of a certain town, for it is in its own infrastructure, that it is
the way it is. To be perfectly honest, it looked like a legitimate sign posted
by Staten Island Rapid Transit! For the life of me, I could not differentiate between the two.

I then cast my mind to moments earlier and wondered, if I was still back
in happy-time mode. Had my train not been derailed by Ozzy Ozbourne.
If I was still beaming and filled with good cheer, the words on the sign post might have been interpreted quite differently, but who's to say now? In my head, I had actually begun to see myself as a turn of the century gentleman with nobility and honor. Projecting myself in thought, I had begun to feel and experience those very emotions, as though they were somehow relevant. In that moment of my disillusionment, these feelings were thought to be the very backbone of life itself, and if all had gone
well, the rest of the night would have been as jam. I smiled to myself and disregarded the whole mess, for I truly believed in the confines of my own heart that it was an unforeseeable disaster.

As we walked further past the station, the music soon diminished and was gone. Pete wanted no part of anyone or anything as he continued to walk thirty feet ahead of us, as if he were encased in his own world. Moving ever forward in a tenaciously diligent manner, that stark figure looked as though he would consume the night. Looking back, only to study our advancement, he switched to an even faster pace while grimacing. Ay Pete, John called out! "See Charles, Pete don't care about us. Why is he doing this?" Just ignore him, I said. Peter's blatant lack of decorum was no shock to my senses for he needed to be high, too. As we continued on, John was becoming exceedingly loquacious and all this commotion was beginning to gnaw at me. He was now putting his hand on my shoulder, slowing me down. So languid was I now in this state that I bellowed aloud!!!

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It felt as though we were walking on a treadmill, and the anxiety I was currently experiencing was very similar to that of walking in a dream, where instead of going forward, I was going slowly in reverse. No matter how focused I was or how optimistic I became, it just felt like I wasn't getting anywhere. At this particular point in time, my mind and body have become effete, as if every ounce of energy had been drained from me. I was so hot and now, oh so weak. I felt as though I had not eaten in almost a year and my stomach was that of a starving child. I knew now how it felt to be that hungry. Where the tormented cries, become a yearning that no one or nothing can satisfy. To be so withdrawn and exhausted from stress beyond my means, that anything offered to me could not placate my needs nor pacify my insatiable groans. How we can take advantage of something as dire as a piece of bread or a grain of rice was now astounding to me. Where one person starves to death and dies, another throws food
out the window.

I thought of all this as I continued moving toward an unknown destination. I was beginning to feel like that head in my doctor's office. The one with all the emotions laid out like a map! I had always found drawings such as these to be fascinating as well. Drawings as stated in Ferrier's experiments of 1876, or anything by Dr. Alesha Sivartha. Right about now, all these little areas in my brain must have been flashing around like police sirens!
I was so tired of listening to other people. Their ideas and what they deemed right for me! Everything was school, but school was a prison of the infirmed. No, the erudite wisdom of fools would not be imputed unto me. Turn your head when I need a hand and teach me what I cannot learn. Spit upon me when I fail and then cast me in the river, I'll take my chances with the nomads and the dogs.

In the beginning, I had more than anyone. I never took it for granted,
and I always gave thanks for it. After losing all, I hardened my heart. In fact, I became quite bitter. No longer would I demonstrate a propensity to excel at anything and no matter how hard I tried, when
I did feel like trying, I could not concentrate on things, I put my mind to. It was almost as if I was drifting off into space, even in pleasant conversation. I tried to study on my own time, but there were too many distractions for I had developed a compulsion disorder. If I had to look one word up in the dictionary, then I was in it for hours learning and studying new words. I only went to school because it was required of me, and because I needed to obtain a high school diploma. In my family, not having one was simply unthinkable.

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So here I am once again, analyzing the winds of time in a bad dream, while trying to gain a higher understanding of a world, I am  unsure of. I needed to get in touch with my emotions and find out what it was, that I was, so hopped on the roller coaster with no rails and began my ascent toward Heaven. Why is it that not only I, but the rest of today's society refuses to comprehend the deleterious effect a drug can have on them, until they're halfway in the blender? Then it becomes a desperate struggle not to lose what we so carelessly and haphazardly threw into the wind.

It's funny how you don't think about it until it's too late and by that time you're plummeting hopelessly toward the ground. Then, the only one who can help to save you is the very one who seems to exist solely on paper, and even then we can't make time for him on a Sunday. Why do you put up with us, oh Lord? I thought silently to myself as I walked, not wanting to be there.

I took that road because I needed a little adventure. I wanted to animate my surroundings and dive in, leaving this troubled world behind. Life was getting a wee bit drab in this humdrum world of ever the same, but now it's gone ahead of itself again. How could doing anything like this help me to become anything at all? I was playing Russian roulette with my brain and every minute that went by seemed to be plunging me deeper and deeper
in despair. In a way, I felt like I was at a very critical stage in my life.
A turning point. I knew that I needed to make certain changes, but I needed to apply them to my world! Again, I was thinking of how foolish
I was for chancing everything and the punishment I was going to receive from God, should anything go wrong tonight. "There are no more excuses, which can be made, for they will not be heard."
And now, I am in despair over that quandary!

These conflicting emotions and that terrible burden, all spiraling
into a chasm of utter madness. I thought of that mind bending psychedelic music, I listen to everyday and began to think of myself as an advocate of drug use. I am no damn advocate of anything, I screamed at this damaged brain, as though it were attempting to betray me in front of God himself! You are the great betrayer!!! I stood screaming, while pointing my finger at that contemptuous wall of thought. You should be trying to make me feel better, not condemning me to Hell, you immoral monstrosity! I just enjoy the peacefulness of the music, I retorted! This silent battle I was having in my head was beginning to widen in scope. "Yes, you do enjoy the music" said the evil one stepping forth from the shadows, "but at the expense of how many innocent lives?"

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God, I am a terrible person, I thought as I turned my back on him, giving
me just enough time to do that which needed to be done. I swiftly swung my sword with fervor to sever the evil beast's head! The bloody helmet fell to the ground leaving a trickle of blood spatter, but not before the arterial spray covered my face and chest. Was I wearing no clothes? That should hardly matter, from where I stood victorious in triumph! "For the Lord God!!!"
I screamed out like a gladiator while gripping tightly, that severed head by
its knotted hair! Just then, that black moldy wall was cranked down into the earth and the meadow came alive with green grass and flowers! Damn-it,
I forgot to get rid of the head! Just then it exploded, where I found myself walking.

I was not a terrible person. I was merely a victim of the changing times. Think positive, said the raspberry leprechaun in the chapel of Hell where demons wail. Think positive and we shall get through this together! Suddenly, the rails seemed to shimmer strangely in the light of the moon,
and I could almost feel a strange vibration coming down the tracks behind me. I turned around to see a white light shining in my direction. It was moving frame by frame like that of a projector, when its plug is mistakenly pulled. It stopped and rested at the station's platform, patiently, like a bull waiting to charge! It then gained momentum by rolling on its heavy wheels, toward me. The light had more composition to it now, than it did before,
and seemed to resemble a rather large glaring eye peering through the distance at me. We left the tracks to go down a wooded incline where
we waited, with eyes closed tight, for that transmundane serpent to pass.

The size of a mouse it may have very well been but not for long! The closer it came, the louder it got, until it was almost upon us! Then, like a massive mechanical monster, it roared as it went by and seemed to be infuriated by our being here! Boy is that thing pissed, I said aloud! No one heard me because the sound it made was deafening. It moved like a steel snake with
a stiff neck on a very bad day. I dared not think about where it was going  for that was too creepy! I then watched as it slithered away into the ever brooding darkness.

It was truly man's goodwill to create all these contraptions to take one hitherto, but he inadvertently forgot one thing whilst on his way to glory,
and that is if you make life a little too easy, it then becomes more complicated for the one who has to live it, and thus, the very first
problem began. So now we're all stuck in somebody else's problem,
and we can't dwell upon it because we're too high.

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