Showing posts with label The Resistance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Resistance. Show all posts

Friday, January 27, 2017

Punch-drunk

Wednesday January 25th, Day Damn 6

It’s the right you always miss. I duck the left, block the jab. It’s a distraction. It’s there to make you pay more attention to it. Reactionary is the word. Reactionary is the process. It speaks to the most primitive defensive parts of self. I know mentally I know the right is the problem. Here comes the left. Here comes the left. I can't focus on that I have to remember that it’s coming. Left again jab left strike left. I can't let the right drop from my radar it’s the knockout punch it’s the one the ends me. Left, Jesus, left focus left, left. No stop paying attention to the left. The right is the haymaker. Left. Block, dodge, Left no I've got it. Move bob weave don't get lazy don't get tired. Bob weave that left is nothing its consistent constant and I know where it will be before it gets there. Move bob weave here comes that right.  Got you.

Beware of punch drunkeness. It’s designed to confuse the senses with abundance and sense of overwhelming uncertainty. It’s a myth because you know it’s coming and you know its only purpose is to make you miss when the right is coming. Train for it, move with it.  When the time is right counter it.







Rogue

Tuesday January 24th Day Damn 5

Calamity is the universe's way of changing pace and restructuring direction. Call to a calamite a swamp fossil of origin for an animal that moves too slow for the human eye to truly perceive. As a calamity rises too soon too quick. Never saw it coming. The perception of the human eye is such a limiting method of determining the movement of plants people or planets.

Calamitous intent so to comes swift on wings of unforeseen forages likened to the slow meticulous methods of animals too slow for the eyes to see. How limited the scope of human perception when the eyes are all that have it.


Scream

Monday January 23rd Day Damn 4

Is a scream a cry for the sake of crying or a release of an energy that constantly threatens to bind to forbid to conceal.  Can a scream be silent and still be called a scream. The face pulls the eyes widen the lips pull or purse the teeth clench the struggle for objective complacency. How has polite society implied that screams have no place in civility? The body screams it is within its capacity for use so use it, it must. Like prohibition the declaration of alcohol's illegality finally viewed as a misguided unrealistic assessment. The reality is, it exists it is in the capacity of this place that it exists so it shall continue.


Thursday, January 26, 2017

Retreat

Sunday January 22nd Day Damn 3

Begins with a welp and ends with the welpiest of welps that ever welp.  The dawn is the day that conceals the barest hope as the aftermath of action. This story like all others bares the mark of what has been and what is surely to come.

Excerpt from Shuttered Vision. Expected Release April 2017



“Ok Mr. Abrams.” Cody started tartly.  “You don’t have my blessing yet but I won’t actively stand in the way.” Cody declared.

Colan looked at him. “Why not?” He asked. “I thought you were still at camp StayAwayFromHer.”

Cody laughed. “I was. And trust me this FBI cluster is still pending investigation for me. So is the questionable decision to take her out after what she’d been through. I know though that you had things to do and seeing you after she was attacked I know you couldn’t let her out of your sight.”

Colan nodded cowed a bit.

Cody paused as he looked out at Fiona. “Damned if I can’t admit it though she’s blooming.” He said simply.  He put down the glass he was holding and looked at Colan intently. “You did something with her today that I’ve never seen before.”

Interested Colan looked at Cody. He tilted his head and asked, “Which is?”

Cody mimicked the gesture of holding his hands open as he had watched them do with each other. “Even as angry as you were, and you were Oklahoma redneck pissed, you didn’t disrespect her agency. You still took the time to ask for permission to touch her.” Cody paused his demeanor darkening as he continued, “I’m not going to go over some of the less savory aspects of her sexual history with you. That’s something for her to decide to share with you if you two get there.” He shook his head slightly. “As the person she turns to and usually bares her soul to I tell you that alone is very impactful. You want me on your team you keep that up.”

Colan listened to what Cody was saying and the hint of someone taking advantage of Fiona had made him see red for a few minutes. He almost missed how Cody ended his speech. He looked out at Fiona on the phone with her mother.

She painted in jeans and shorts.  She liked dresses though. Pretty frilly flirty sundresses. The one she was wearing now looked perfect for a beach. The way the sun and ocean were positioned behind her was almost a perfect ad to sell the dress. It was a blue and green handkerchief dress that teased her curves, lifted and settled on the wind. Her hair was braided. She hadn’t had time to really deal with it and she slept with it braided.  Her skin was a brilliant deep bronze sun kissed and glowing. Her face was serious but cracked into a smile often as she spoke to her mother. He watched those full lovely lips move and his heart flipped at the flash of white between her lips when she smiled.

Then he thought about the ugliness he had witnessed. He thought about how she retreated from physical contact almost immediately when the spell of their intimacy was broken. He thought about how she had not complained later about being sore after the officer had assaulted her. Not a single grumble. He thought about how she had frozen when he had first kissed her any idea of sexual desire ripped away by pure fear.

He thought about how Cody was never physically forward with her even though he was big enough. Even after the attack he hadn’t run to her and grabbed her. He had stood back called to her and let her come to him. It was the actions of a man used to dealing with someone who needed extra care from experienced trauma.

“She’s been sexually assaulted.” Colan practically whispered.

Cody looked at him wondering how this man had gotten so far understanding so little. “Colan, she’s a woman.”

Colan looked at Cody and was taken aback by the way he said the statement she’s a woman. It reminded him of him yelling at him about remembering she was black. The unmentioned rules behind those statements becoming clear. In this equation expecting to be treated a certain way by people based on race was expected. Sexual assault was so common for women that it was to be assumed that just by dent of being a woman she had experienced sexual assault.

Colan felt his reality warping a bit and he put a hand to his forehead.  His mind stretching as he saw scenes in movies that pushed the idea the narrative of taking women. Doing what you wanted with them as objects and accessories.  Seeing himself suggesting more aggression and pushing for rape plot devices.

Cody watched him and called to him, “Colan are you ok?”

Colan took a few deep breaths and focused on Fiona. Not her pain but on her.  He waved Cody off as his mind started to settle guilt flooding through him. “I’m ok.” He bit out.

He focused and looked outside at her. He had thought after the attack what a miracle a survived life was. Now he stared at her in a new mystified awe. She carried so much.  How did she manage? He remembered her declaration. No rest for the weary. She had to manage because this was the world she lived in. It was either survive or die. She didn’t have time for his sensibilities and his laziness in regards to understanding why she had to be how she was. She was living breathing walking inspiration. The day was long and she had many to reach.

“Goddess.” Colan breathed. “I asked her before what she was.  I left out the one she is.”

Cody put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re slow but you’re getting there.” 


Shrub

Saturday January 21st Day Damn 2

Sunshine and light can come from the oddest places. The memory of perceived evil hardly ever survives the passage of time. Clarity is hard fought for. Presence is never the thing one gets to choose. Its what's done with it that produces those odd moments of light. Never be mistaken we are best in our purest most natural form as our ever evolving selves. The greatness of being able to not take self quite so seriously a trait to be hailed as the grace of humanity.  Found on this day in the most unexpected of places. Light blazing through rains gloomy showers.


Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Megatron

Friday January 20th Day Damn 1


Always had that evil plot to set Optimus down. Prime was all of the things a good man wanted to be. A great leader a great friend confidant strong. He didn't back down when fighting was the right thing to do. This meant Megatron had to surrender a lot.  But when it counted he took his moments and threatened what he wanted to. He would be just insidious enough that it was hard for those Autobots to rest. Honor may feed the soul, but destruction rebuilds the world.