Chapter 1

I



The gentle breeze pushed the high flag back and forth. The night was silenced by the countless thoughts of the two of us, screaming at the darkness. Our eyes were focused on the prize some ten feet in the air. The pole upon which the flag was positioned was rusting and unsteady, leaning slightly to the left increasing the mission’s difficulty. With considerable difficulty I reached the top of the pole with scissors hanging from my back pocket. The sight before me was something greater than anything that reserves a place in my memory’s capacity.
The moon reflecting water was an eager sprinter stretching for the finish line with euphoria before being unexpectedly stripped of the assumed praise and acknowledgement lust suited him in, as it slapped against the rocks looking to extend a little further repeatedly, while heart racing seconds passed immobilizing me. Forcing my self to ignore the sight I completed the objective and we fled up the dimly lit street with the enormous flag dangling from the containment of my pants. I glanced down at my black and white DCs and thoughts of loneliness were awoken, energetically penetrating my barrier of un- acceptance.
Memories of thick smoke calmly lifting itself upwards from the end of a perfectly rolled blunt unburied themselves with the thoughts on purchasing the now rust coated sneakers. Perfection. The fuel to the fire that maintains the temperature inside the greenhouse of my mind, giving new life to creativity and imagination along with question of insanity, the fire with the capability to at any time become wild and untamed. The fire brought into existence from my thumb as it came down upon the trigger of my black and white lighter, its only purpose being to reignite the straw like cylinder between my index and middle fingers.
I tried to barricade the predicted soon to arrive thoughts of loneliness by shielding the control room of my body with the hood of my favorite sweater. The sweater was the same pigment of my loyal feline companion, camouflage to the night, with words the color of purity splashed across the front matching only perfectly to the chest of Blunt.
The past me continues to put up self produced curtains and his loneliness begins to reveal his insanity. When thoughts of living a life so lonesome began to dismantle this historical me, they were easily manipulated by the convincing ability of love. Love was happiness. It was partnership. But as I would unfortunately discover happiness was and is the first sign of pain.
Infinite unconcluded thoughts of lonesome insanity, barricaded by a pathetic hope of normality reproduce, consensually mating with one another in order to sprout updated suggestions to uncountable concepts that remain frustratingly incomplete; pierce my hope of a human with companion capabilities existence. I compare the pain of betrayal to a blade sharply and suddenly kicking open the door of my heart, slowly being shoved deeper as my ocean of love pours to the earth, giving life to a tree with an isolated pear who dangled temptingly,  flaunting its tastiness.
I think of fruit. I think of pain. I think of my lust for this then unacknowledged fruit of temptation luring me in selfishly. Desire drips from my body as I foolishly reached for the pure contamination. I think of foolishness. I think of immaturity. I think of belief in my animalistic thoughts doubling and as I’m sure you can predict, tripling    as I remove my black and white sunglasses that dangled uselessly from my face in the night, perhaps even comfortably as well. The animal flees from the scene, its scientific equal nothing more than the nights black coat itself, her chest a stain of hope, while its biologic superior keeps a simultaneous pace by the animals left side.
The Animal knows no compassion, only instinct. The animal exists only to a single crazed boy. Its courage is a noble samurai, sword withdrawn, held comfortably in an attack prepared stance. The complications of emotion have no influence on the animal’s decisions as it knows only survival. It cleansed its hands, removing the remnants of its actions and isolated pain anger and confusion collide in the mind of the hurt boy standing in the mirror before it, gazing back with a stain of hope that the animal can guide him. Me.
The collided emotions become a united pile of destruction, although nothing more now than minuscule remains they are one none the less. A single heap, A single remain simply awaiting its guaranteed revival.
Summer days were swept away by the brooms of our rebellion, our expression. Bowls of loyalty were burnt regularly, while my heap of emotions was a target of my rebellions cleanliness, concealed beneath the very table upon which they were forgotten. Similar to the ash remains of my contamination, a gust of concealment carried them to a place of freedom until the inevitable return of this wind of un-acceptance.
Reality was a partner to consequence of my continuous misplacement of emotions. Nomadic existence revealed itself as an ingredient in the culinary book of loneliness and insanity precipitated cravings of companionship into the bodies of liquor I attempted to drown my self punished emotions within as I watched them suffer from every substitution of reality I had attempted to relieve myself with. My lust for companionship was a blind man reading these words of transparency, but my nomadic lifestyle was revealed to be the same man desperately searching for his sight in the ink I drain onto this septic paper of understanding and beauty while the brail copy remains undiscovered at its left side.
I stumble down the hill where my house is the end and ironically the beginning as well. At the hills midpoint I cease movement and I gaze at my first stop on my road of redemption, as if it were the animal I find in the mirror who declares himself different from the rest of his kind as he pleads for me to tame him. My visualization is interrupted by the arrival of neighbor. Of my friend. He ignites the very hand relied upon by my indecisive mind to pull back my curtains with a red lighter I gained possession of through my travels. He passes the lighter to his left for me to ignite my own hand and we begin to explore the attractions of my new nation, unwinding until time extinguishes our slow burning flames and I see a man in the water tying a flag to a pole leaning slightly to the right, while his companion served as the support if the right were to go wrong.