The grim intestine


We were now lurking around in the back of a lonely schoolyard.
It was dark and desolate there, but not threatening in any way for it
had somewhat of a tranquil vibe about it. I was just scootin' around,
not trying to make too much sense of anything. In a quiet corner of the abandoned schoolyard, John asks Pete for one of the colorful fireworks, he has carried with him in his back pocket. What's this thing going to do? asks John excitedly, while vying for the object in Peter's hand. "It's going to emit colors, go up in the air and explode." Pete then hands the three sided object to John, and he begins to examine it. As John was doing this, I thought of that crazy Fourth of July family party, back in the summer
of 66'. Of all the family get-togethers, nothing would ever top this one!

"☼" For some very strange reason, our brains lock in on certain days!
I can remember, quite vividly, the first time I drank out of an ordinary drinking glass. I can recall, my mother holding my wrist as we were coming down the stairs. My legs trying so hard to reach each step!
If she let go of me, I would have surely toppled down them. As we
got into the kitchen, she poured me a tall glass of milk. You have to
get used to it honey, she said, and I was crying because I knew I would
drop the glass. My hands, being so tiny and that glass felt like it was thirty pounds! My mom tells me that it was on my very first birthday, that I drank from that glass. That is my earliest recorded memory. "☼"

Getting back to that crazy Fourth of July party!

"✺" I awoke to the sound of mortars and aerial bombs exploding in a hazy sky. Today, we would all gather in Grandmother's backyard as we did each year. My cousins, aunts and uncles, among those present. My grandfather on my father's side was speaking to my Uncle Frank about a popular Staten Island eatery known as Al Deppe's. "I had the cravin' for them hot dogs for over a week! I took one bite and I was in heaven!"
They pop! "Yeah, they pop when ya bite 'em, and the juice!!!" From out of nowhere my father and Uncle Bob come strolling into the backyard with a metal garbage can overflowing with fireworks! There were M-80's, ashcans, blockbusters, cherry bombs, roman candles, sparklers, mats, parachutes, fountains, rockets, helicopters, pink elephants! You name it,
it was in that pail!!! As they began blowing up my grandmother's back yard, I started jumping up and down in excitement. It was at this moment that my mother springs up, snatches my hand and drags me inside. To the safe zone! Fergus, the family Bulldog was cowering in the back corner
of the cellar, for I would assume the noise disturbed him.

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That whole day he looked like a picture of bad health. Indeed, he seemed to be aggravated over something, for he had that very long face on. Dogs do not fare well to enemy attack! My father, realizing I'm gone, goes into the house and decides to bring me outside again. My mother, screaming and crying as she desperately tries holding onto me. Not wanting to choose sides, I just sat there in Mother's arms. My dad gently coaxing
my mother to release me. "He's my son too, ya know" (and) "It's not
all about you!" Within minutes, she had let go of me, and was now
crying terribly. He took my arm and led me outside, once again into the war zone. It was incredible to walk out into a barrage of cannonry! To
see everyone's eyes blazing, and to just be in the midst of it there. How I
loved it! I could hear mom downstairs, pleading with my grandmother to do something. That I was going to die out there, but I was without fear! We were simply a family in our own country, celebrating its freedom.
Who could have known that many years later we would no longer have this privilege? All because people get hurt. Why not stop making cars? Fireworks maim; Car accidents kill. It seems that everyday a new law comes into effect, whereby hindering our right as Americans to choose. One day in the not too distant future, you are not going to be able to light up a cigarette in your own car. Then it will be your house, till everyone we know are packing up their things and moving to Russia! The highlight of the whole day came when my Uncle Bob went up the street with a short pink stick. What's that he's got? I asked my dad curiously. "That's a nigger chaser," he said happily. What's it gonna do? "Oh, you'll see," replied my father, wallowing in his contentment. As my uncle lit it and ran, it followed him down the block, wedged in the crack of his ass! Luckily, he moved to the side, and it exploded away from him. The whole block was hysterical! Except for Mother of course, who was still downstairs sobbing in the basement. As my uncle reaches us, he says, "Did you
see that? That thing almost blew my hole off!" "✺"

On July 4th, 2005, I put my Polk audio system to the test! Turning the volume up to 9, I had the sound of a mortar going off on a TDK MA-R 90 cassette tape! The one in the solid metal housing. With the speakers facing out both windows, it sounded like an artillery shell going off on a navy missile boat! All day, I had the police scrambling back and forth to the tune of car alarms sounding! What could they have done to me anyway? Told me I was disturbing the peace?
"On the 4th of July?"

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John signals Pete for a match and Pete offers up his lighter.
After several attempts, he gives it back. This lighter's a-piece-a-shit,
you got a match? "Nah, I don't have a fucking match, let me see it!"

You must understand that Peter was one of those fellows
who never used the word no. At least I never heard
him say it. It's always nah, like nar - cotic. Get it?

As Pete fumbles with the lighter, I could see it was not going to light!
His face was becoming redder than a boiled lobster, and I was waiting to see if he would burst into flames like the human torch!!! "What the fuck is wrong with this thing? Hmmm, there seems to be something impeding the mechanism." John then says, Give it to me, let me see if I can impede the back of your head with it! We both fell into a fit of laughter and could not stop! Pete then flips him the bird, saying, "Fuck you, you ignorant fool."

John then turns to me, Charles, you got a book of matches? I search through my pockets but find only coins and some pocket lint. No John, sorry. Actually, I did have my book of matches, but I was dying for Pete to flip out again, so I told John I didn't! I could see Peter through the darkness, still fumbling with that damn lighter of his and getting absolutely nowhere with it! "Ya know man, I really don't need this shit tonight!!!" Then, like an angry pitcher for a losing team, he throws the lighter as hard as he can at the paddleball wall, where it pops into a million pieces. Peter, now looking very disheveled and angry mutters aloud "Will ya look at that, now I don't have a lighter."

Immediately, I thought of how comical it would have been, had Peter
been watching me as my lighter emitted its last flame just hours earlier!
Two lighters in one day was unheard of!!! I am almost certain he would have taken it quite personally! Then for the next fifty years it would become his full-time occupation trying to make it work! Especially if
there was still some gas in it!!! I then hand John the pack of flattened
out matches I had in my left pocket. Upon seeing this, Peter's eyes
almost blow out of their sockets! He then shook his head and walked away in complete disgust. John lights the thing and we scatter! A few seconds later it begins to fizzle, before puffing a huge plume of smoke
into the atmosphere! Pete then chimes in "Oh-ho, what a fucking waste that was! I'm gonna pretend that didn't happen." He now proceeds to
hand John one very coveted M-80.  As the flame ignites the wick, we
scatter! He holds it for a short moment and then throws it into the air
where it hangs for a few seconds, but does not go off. Instead, it hits
the ground and begins smoking. It then made a loud farting noise before fizzling out. John waits a good thirty seconds before walking over to examine the small explosive. "The wick came out! Are you kidding me? Pete seriously, where'd ya buy these things, in a fucking joke store? My dog makes better bombs than this!" Laughing loudly!!! What do you want me to say? They're old!!! Ya know what man, I think I'm just gonna leave.

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As a disgruntled Pete, leaves for home by way of Amboy Road, we watch his ominous shadow disappear into the night. After the laughter subsided and I regained my composure, I looked down at the faded tarmac to find
a most disturbing sight. A squirrel, it seems had been eviscerated, and its innards were sprawled out along the uneven ground. Some lights were on at the end of the street, shining dimly, but they were enough to see the atrocity that 'nether man nor beast' had created. I simply refused to think that anything could be that evil. I desperately tried not to look down at the mess of drying entrails, which adhered to the ground like glue. Even if we left, I would not be able to dismiss the fact that it happened. I started to feel like I had been exposed to a deadly virus. One that was beginning
to mutate and multiply inside me.

The archimage had waved his wand from where he was standing in another time to befoul my world. Now, a calm and peaceful environment had been turned into an implacable miasma. In no way could I stop thinking of those microscopic organisms arising from that viscous pile of decaying entrails! Mixed in with the very air we breathe were those nasty little spores creating havoc in my brain! When you go to the movies, do you ever sit it in the last row of seats near the projector? All those dead skin cells and airborne bacteria you see floating around in the lens with the dust are going straight into your lungs! Next time you're in the theater, pat the cushioned seats, and you'll see all that dust and foreign debris exploding upwards into the eye of the projector. Actually, these germs are around us constantly!
The light only makes them visible.

I soon felt sick as I thought of being riddled with tiny sores from within.
A life threatening infection. It almost felt like little pathogens were now swimming in my bloodstream, as if I had eaten a dozen raw sausages.
In the blink of an eye, a happy and joyful night would be blown out
of the water and turned into a combative struggle for survival.

I felt as though a demon had crawled inside my head
and was now holding a gun to my brain.

How could I know that by simply looking down at the ground,
could leave me in a nightmare of unparalleled proportion? I was
imbued with wrenching terror, to realize in but a few short hours,
I might very well be dead. Before long, I came to the conclusion
that the end was upon me, for I began to feel the onset of anaphylaxis.
I don't think I'm going to get out of this one. I must distract myself!
All right, just calm down! I was now perspiring from worry and trying
so hard to keep myself together. As I thought of the infection pumping through my heart valve, I felt a quick murmur or palpitation. I then
started to pray like I had never prayed before, but felt like a hypocrite.
It was always the same, and now my prayers had no meaning at all. If I was the Lord, I wouldn't want to hear anything I had to say tonight either! Why was I always pushed into praying? Why couldn't I just pray like a normal human being? Maybe because I wasn't a normal human being.

Always off, dabbling in mystery

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Maybe all this documentation is just an excuse to do drugs in the first place. I don't know anymore. Everything had come together, and I felt like I had painted myself into a corner. What the hell is going on here? Please God, forgive me for this. It was a dumb thing to do. "You pray now? Now you pray? You had your whole life to pray, and you dare do it now in your one moment of weakness!!! You insolent fool, get ready to be cast into fire!" Lucifer was mean. He wanted me to suffer like he and his own were going to suffer for the rebellion. "I didn't tell you to leave Heaven!!! You made that choice and now you can't go back! It's not my fault you tried to be king and failed. Get thee hence! Innocently a young voice spoke "Are you in some kind of trouble?" Then someone in the shadows of reason yelled, "You should pray because you want to, not because you have to!!!" At that very moment, I truly felt as though God had forsaken me. I then watched the doors to the magnificent kingdom of Heaven close. I was renounced by the God I exalted for not putting at least one hour aside each week for the consecration to sanctify my soul. There was nothing I could do or say that was going to change anything.
I was doomed.

I tried to believe in the power of prayer but the whole concept seemed
to be now against me. Still, I persevered with total reverence and fear, but yet, without any result whatsoever. Could I blame God for not hearing me? Was I supposed to see an immediate result? Was God supposed to
stop what he was doing and run to my side, while the rest of the world languished in misery? There are literally billions of people in this world. Millions afflicted by every conceivable disease known to mankind, and
this doesn't exclude hunger. How many illnesses and sicknesses are there in the world? How many variable and resistant strains? Start counting. Here is an interesting little tidbit for you. There are more diseases in the world, than there are letters in this book. Be very thankful you don't have one of them, and if you do, then I am sorry I cannot cure you.

Do you go to church on Sunday? I asked John, trembling with fear,
but trying not to convey it. "I go two times a year, that's about it. You?" Maybe once a year. "Do you pray?" Yeah, but I can't be like the pope who prays for five hours a day. Most of the time I run out of things to pray about after the first minute. I then started to think of the Bible and
its philosophy on us as human beings. Protestants fighting Catholics
over what? Christ? We are all born of free will. We live for today
and tomorrow we die. In the following life, we will not have
a free will, but we will live forever, either in the purest
of bliss or the most horrible of agony's.

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Here children die, in the next life they will not. Here people kill one another in war and in the streets. In the next life there will be no war. Only peace, for those who have earned it. There is only one crime that is punishable
by death in the hereafter, and that is suicide. It doesn't matter how good
you are as a person, if you are above the age of accountability and decide to snuff it, just remember, the pain you will suffer in the afterlife will be
far worse than any medieval torture. You cannot commit suicide without facing God's wrath! To destroy the body, which is the sacred housing
of the holy spirit, is to reject Gods precious gift.

"Suicides cannot be forgiven by God."

Mark 3:28-29
28) "I tell you the truth, all sin and blasphemy can be forgiven,
29) but anyone who blasphemes the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven.
This is a sin with eternal consequences."

Your body is a temple of the ---- ------.
Every second that brings strife is a million years of bliss.
Hell has been described as holding your hand over a fire as the skin bubbles off, forever, while Heaven is said to be indescribable bliss.
A place that has no end and its beauty is said to be immeasurable.

The time for being stoic and the time for having faith was now,
for there are people in this world who go to work everyday, never
knowing that today, they will become a statistic. A truck driver falls asleep at the wheel and suddenly, you're powdered seashells under a catamaran. Or you decide to dive of a pier, rather than test it by jumping in feet first. So now, you're paralyzed from the neck down, unable to move your arms or your legs. Try living as a quadriplegic. Confined to a hospital bed with a respirator tube in your throat that someone must clean every hour. Talk about a living hell on earth. As my mind began to fill with all these images, I tried to convince myself that the burden I carried was small. But the truth of the matter was plain to see, I am here, and they are there. No matter how I looked at it, the fact would always remain. I was really hoping it was a simple case of hypochondriacal anxiety that would subside without warning. I was overcome and grief stricken by emotions, I had absolutely no control over. I was crying for a world that hated me, while I, myself was dying. How ironic was that? I felt myself slipping away into the great abyss and just wanted to be a normal person again, so I could further deal with the problem at hand, but the drug was not going away. Rather, it would be I, who would be going away. My brain will be in a jar by the
end of the evening, I thought, and who would explain how it happened?

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You so long for the comforts of home and the things you took for granted all your life. You'd change everything about your life to make it better, if you only could, but now, you're left stranded in the very nightmare you created. A world so cold and lonely it defies reason. The barren plains, where nothing grows and no one ever comes to visit. A land more desolate than the calm stillness of an abandoned heart. Strange voices call out to you in echoes from the earth, but it's only your mind weeping. So alone.
I thought I knew more than the rest of the world, but I knew nothing.
How bad it hurts, when you find you've been left all alone in the shadows.
No one to ever talk to again. Nothing to see or touch. Just heartbeats and long forgotten promises. That is the drug's design. You think you were abandoned the first time? This may be even worse. Never hearing another sound again because your brain shut down. Not being able to get up and move about as you've so often done. No longer would the scent of a flower exhilarated your senses, or the taste of a mouth-watering prime rib make your salivary glands open. No one to ever hold you again. Nothing more, for the one who threw his life away. Mother prays for you and cries. She pleads for your safe return, but it's not real for you're not there. You now reside in a distant void. Another galaxy, where no one ever goes, and even if they could, it would take a million light years for anyone to reach you, look around. Our capacity for higher learning is strained, and we've simply no technology for advancement in that area. Time is at a standstill and your motor skills have stopped. Communication is lost and the world you've come to know is gone. So abandon all hope for rescue, no one's coming. Still you'll take to your grave that one question.

"How did I get here?"

Knowing we could not stay here forever, I was now in a catch 22.
If I begin walking, it will spread like wildfire through my entire system,
until I succumb to the numbness of my body going into shock. And if
we stay, I will only dwell upon it until it becomes real. Full of anxiety and worry, I made the decision to leave. As I picked myself up from that spot, I felt like an old civil war soldier gallantly forging ahead to his death. So weak and weary was I now, I had hardly any life left in me. How I wished to be home, safe, in the comfort of my undisturbed bed. To turn on the TV if I may or to just relax in a totally normal environment. I needed this whole night to be nothing more than a bad dream. To open my eyes and forever be beside the one I love. The one who needs me. If I could be Almighty God for but a millisecond, I would do just that. Such blissful thoughts were neither a sin in my mind, nor healthy for me to think of,
for they only flooded the town with rain. Moving like a hapless cripple,
I continued to trudge through that field, as though I were marching
for my own country. . . As any good soldier would.

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