" you can't kill me because i'm already inside you"
- Corey Taylor
the six year sabbatical draws to a close.the cocoon of the feel good security is beginning to erode,falling apart one shard at a time.the slime of the sin of sloth is washing away alarmingly quick.soon,it shall be time to be purged and be baptized in the fires of what we disdainfully refer to as reality.expectations and responsibilities approach as inevitably as the executive working in his cubicle on the 80th floor would have pictured the approaching airbus before the leviathan's fuel proved its volatility in a split second ka boom on 9/11.get the picture?
trouble is,his woes were at end.
mine are just about to begin.
the wayward kid refuses to grow up.the erupting delinquency has given way to a dormant smoldering backdraft but that's about it. its almost like a restrained werewolf being refused the craving to turn and howl at the moon,spill some blood and revel in the debauchery of the devil with macabre unapologetic glee and instead having a dozen silver swords sticking in him,waiting to twist and compound his pain at the slightest hint of defiance, to make him an enslaved black fuck from the slave era to do the bidding of the man.the war continues within the walls of my psyche as the man in the black suit with the slick hair,the cushy job and the nice car has the kid in a deathlock.the kid refuses to give in,battling thru sweat and blood to uphold the last bastion of freedom.the kid realizes that its not just teenage angst but someting more that he's standing against.the flag of non conformity has been carried into battle,all in tatters but still flapping proudly through glory and fall.
as it flaps unhindered, the new warrior sees a cloud of dust approaching and its not the man with reinforcements but his comrades who took the vows of non conformity with him but gave in with a few shiny doubloons thrown their way fighting over them like rabid wolves.the warrior picks up his sword and braces himself.the evangelists descend from the converging walls to kill the apparent non conformist antichrist.so much for the fucked up evangelistic nazerine.
bring it on,bitch.
the finality of the situation makes itself sickeningly clear.
inescapably so.
flashes from the past and the present rise in the warrior's line of vision like the shockwaves from the thundering hooves of his apparent approaching doom.
the first kiss on his front porch.
the first drag of a liberating cigarette.
the first accident and the liberating freeflow of purging pain after that.
the oncoming scyhtes have the glint of the death blue twilight and draw closer.
the first argument with the man and many that followed.
the first laugh at designer clothing.
the first unapologetic snicker at posterior licking retards.
the fits of laughter at the norm of spending an eternity amassing a material fortune.
the realization that as much as they'd try,he'd never give in.
the realization that his lust for freedom was always going to be bigger than their paltry greed for wealth.
the realization that he stood alone.
he stood proud.
the pounding hooves and screams filled his ears as the army draws even closer.
he remembers the rebukes,from parents,relatives,friends,authorities.
the infuences and catalysts of change that crashed in a manner as futile as a million waves on a rock on the pacific coast that refuses to wither.
the child shall not grow.
the dream shall remain.
the last stand shall be fought for tooth and nail.his knuckles go white as the grip on the hilt of his sword becomes tighter.the resolve only grows stronger.the last surge of power seeps in as a grin spreads on his face.
the kid becomes a warrior.
the warrior remains a kid.
he grits his teeth and stands tall in the fading light,sword and head held high.the cackling army cringes at the final moment as the warrior walks nonchalantly towards them armed with his sword bloodlusting for freedom or death.he crashes into the hordes and is enveloped in an eternal battle and the mist of blood thickens on the scorched plains.
so begins the war.
the end isn't in sight.
the armies of everything he is against are relentless.
and the kid isn't in the mood to quit either.
inter alia,ceteris paribus.... bring it on,bitch.
