hcnerd

you were in the room, with the others. blood hit your face – you were just a man. a man stood, embraced his child – They shot them both, the boy first the man first They shot them both. you had the guns, ammunition, the brain but it wasn't your fight – you were just a man. They began spelling words on the wall, in blood, in blood, in blood, R – W – A – and then the woman screamed, god is real! god is real! a boy ran across the room, skin and bone. they took his head and chopped it in two halves. you stood in a junkyard of flesh. you trembled, almost dropped your TV dinner changed the channel, forgot. you were just a man

True story: My mom is on the phone saying something shitty about my father while he is standing there taking each word in, something along the lines of – "He is an asshole. He hasn't done a god damn thing for this family in almost a year" – when my father explodes, not the first time I have seen him explode, but necessary to point out simply because this time it was much more volatile or maybe monumental in a sense. He begins with – "Who the fuck is that? Hang the fucking phone up." Grabbing at the phone he falls over, tripping over one of my dogs, which further ignites the situation, and then he leaps up and follows a motion of grabbing the

He definitely stands out when he approaches you. It isn't about his personality too much, he is a pretty apathetic guy towards most everything, but more what he is wearing. It begins with the bland but curious color of duct tape on his head. The hat sports the motto "Tape the world," and was completely created out of duct tape.   Continuing down you see his duct tape and jazz shirt, which he personally says "are the two best things to come out of America."   Then the shoes come. It doesn't take a genius to realize that there was some effort put into those shoes. They are checkered black and white, front to back and took almost two hours

Maybe I am being a little illogical comparing my life to that of my miniature poodle's. Although we are two completely different species, not to mention completely different dreamer's, I find myself envying his position in life; his status persay. On an ordinary day, which is pretty much every day for me, my dog of less than a year can be seen waking up late at the foot of my bed and walking over to the open bathroom door- the chances of it being open are a hundred percent considering the fact that I have five younger siblings, four of which are most likely awake by now- and plopping his tiny head into the vast array of open water, actually a

We would all scream, my step-father to shut us up because forty thousand is on the line and the rest of us because we either had nothing to do with the mess- which for all of us it is just the opposite- or simply because we are tired of yelling. Either way there is usually a climax-like moment in which someone is hit and a loud yelp hits high in our already clogged eardrums.   On this particular day there are some pillows tossed on the ground and after our mother dumps three large archaic tweed suitcases on the ground by the TV- yes, our step-father is going to be unforgiving for this mishap- there are clothes, some of my mother's cheap li

This is the part where we creep into a cheap motel room, in a dump called The Sea Lion, and we quickly scatter clear plastic cups (the kind that break when you chew on the sides) full of cheap wine, Sherry's I believe it was, and adjust the volume to the TV a notch above ear splitting. Also before we are finished we must toss the pillows to both double beds across the tiny room and begin the process of laying children- ranging from three to sixteen (myself)- and focus in on slightly overwieght balding step-father who is beyond being absorbed into the 2003 Poker Championship.  Now press play and instantly he begins to scream, not at the kid

She kept staring up at the sky. Her aged Civic seemed so tiny compared to the sky. She seemed so tiny compared to the sky. All of her problems seemed so miniscule and unimportant. Why couldn't the sky be real, she thought.   It was dark and there were stars everywhere and she really couldn't remember the last time she had really looked up at a night sky.   Then the thoughts raced back.   It had been with her mother. The whole family had chosen to take a week off of school and work in the middle of April. They had rented a cabin in the Illinois forest where they had some family nearby, and they were all happy to finally get away from th