Thursday, March 13, 2014

The Manifesting Manifestation

My mind just went blank again. I forget where I am. I look at the walls to see if this is my home but everything is so unrecognizable. I hear familiar voices and I fake a smile and pretend to laugh. There is a woman standing in front of me but I don’t recognize her. She tells me to get ready to spend the day at the park playing with the children. I say yes of course and she leaves to another room in the house. I get up off the floor and look out the window. I see a brown wooden privacy fence and a cemented backyard. I say to myself what a terrible place to live. And then I hear a child’s voice and follow it to the living room. The child sits in the center of the sofa watching cartoons unaffected by my presence. Suddenly I get a ringing in my ear and I rub it with my finger and the ringing stops. Everything stops. The TV is frozen, the noise becomes silence, and the air is gone. At the corner of my eye I see the front door slowly open and in steps a man. I slowly turn my head, pivoting my body in the direction of the door. His mouth slowly opens and closes; again and again and again. I cannot hear what he says but I think to myself what a waste of oxygen and words. And then I hear him say “are you coming” as everything suddenly steps into motion. 

I am in a car. I forget where I’m going. I look out the window and cannot see anything but huge piles of white mountains. I think to myself that this world is unfamiliar to me. I live in the deserts of Texas. This place is very cold and I’m surrounded by frostbite. Yet at the same time inside the car it’s an inferno.  The heat coming from the vents blows right in my face. My eyes dry and my face turn red. My lip begins to bleed. My body shivers. Suddenly I begin to get motion sickness. I look at the driver, his face is perplexed.  The woman is oblivious to the atmosphere. The car accelerates faster and faster and faster. Everything is blurry. My mind is spinning and spinning and I want it to stop but it doesn’t. It’s like a tornado, sucking everything into its orbit. I grab my head and try to stimulate it. But it’s not calming down.  It’s like a volcano getting ready to erupt. I brace myself for impact. But then suddenly the driver sets the car to cruise control and I fly back into my seat. 

Drops are falling on my head. I forget where I am. I look up and water streams down my face. The water sooths my pain as it runs down my body extracting the dirt and blood. The water cleanses my purity, refreshing my soul. I feel reborn. I step out of the rain and look at the man in front of me. He is handsome yet ugly. He is sweet but mean. An angel and a devil. His face is rigged like the ocean floor. His eyes dark like the night. His skin is smooth and rough. His body is skinny yet voluptuous with sexuality. Curves so dangerous you could cut yourself if you didn’t slow down. I say to him I love you but I also hate you so I punch him, making my knuckles bleed with shards of glass.  

I am staring at the ceiling. I forget where I am. I hear a woman talking to me but I do not understand the words she speaks. I try to focus by looking her in the eyes. I know her. Her face is swollen and red. Her eyes drag like a zombie. Her neck is stiff. Her shoulders are wide like a linebacker. Her back is hunched like a monster. Her belly is fully like the moon. Her legs are heavy like an elephant’s. And her butt is as though of a hippopotamus’s. But underneath her rough exterior is a recognizable soul, deeply hidden by the layers of age and motherhood. She is the first girl I ever loved. She is sweet and nice. She’s smart and she is beautiful. She makes me feel safe. What has happened? Now she has become deformed and arrogant. She always has to be right and have the last word. Her sudden moods leave me shaking with fear and full of anxiety. Another voice is the room. A hand goes up at the sofa. It’s him. He snaps his fingers and she runs to his side. She serves him like a slave, doing everything while he plays video games all day. 

I am cutting onions. The thing about onions is you can’t think about them or else you’ll cry. You can’t smell them or else you’ll cry. You have to block out all senses to cut them with precision. I see a shadow lingering behind me. “You’re scratching up the counter, what are you doing” she says. I stop cutting. I open my eyes. I forget where I am for a split second. I turn to her and she takes the knife. “I’ll just do it myself” she says. I step back; annoyed by her attitude I try not to let it bother me. I wonder into the living room where he sits on the sofa. I stand directly behind him. He is looking at his phone and laughing, “sucker” he says. His expression is like a joker. His eyes are big and animated. His grin is wide like a keyboard. And his nose is like a shark. I think to myself what a waste of mind. What a waste of space. What a waste of life. Reduction precedes me just by being in his presence, as if I was getting stupider and stupider just by looking at him. He is so full of himself I wonder how can anyone love him without being jealous that he will always love himself more. That if anyone who chooses to be in his life would have to take a back seat in his car so he could put his ego in the passenger seat. I have to remember not to get too close or else he could fuck you, he walks around with his dick on his head. I clench my fists and think I should just knock him out before he causes more damage. But then she comes in and asks me for help. 

We are in the city. The city is so full to capacity it’s hard not to run into some estrange love. Every eye makes contact, every lip slowly rises to a smile or down to a frown, and cheeks fully puff with pink. The air is polluted like a dirty whore that walks the streets among the clean and chic. And there we sat and dined at the seaside as though it was a date. She sat next to him and I sat in front of him. His eyes were inviting for conversation and at the same time I felt like conversing but I know his ego and I know it would have been like committing suicide. I only wish to speak to her but he keeps interrupting. His eyes are like a snake, they slowly come out of his sockets. But my eyes are like lasers beams that melt anything they come in contact with. His eyes shift onto her, and then onto the waiter, who was an unusual attractive male with an accent that was maybe Russian or German. He scans him like a robot and lets him know he is paying for the bill. They only exchanged smiles but it felt like they exchanged saliva. I was disgusting and in front of her. And she just continues to eat and eat and eat. “Is something wrong” she says. “No, I’m just not hungry” I respond. He reaches over and eats off my plate. He moves his jaw up and down chomping like a cow or horse eating hay. After he devours the pizza he licks his lips and fingers making licking noises with his mouth as though he still wants more but there is no more food left.   

The clock strikes midnight. It’s a usual time to wake. I am on the sofa and she is peeping out the window every five minutes. Something is wrong. I can see it in her eyes; they are full of fear and anger. I look around it see what’s going on. Everything is quiet like a moment before a huge storm hits but there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Then randomly lights flash through the blinds. A loud thundering noise sounds outside. A car door slams close. And then I realize it’s him, he’s been missing this whole time. Then suddenly the ringing in my ears starts ringing again. But this time it’s much worse like a siren. I hang my head and push my palms against my ears trying to make it stop. But it doesn’t. The cloak stops ticking. The wind stops blowing. And everything moves into slow motion. The door creeps open. I can smell a stench so wretched full of lust like a whore emaciated to a pulp. He steps inside. His eyes are bloodshot. His face is saggy. His clothes are violated. And every step he takes is a stumbling thump. He falls on the sofa and begins to sleep. She snaps her fingers in his face. She tells him go take a shower. He creeps up, dropping diseases in the form of a small bag. He begins to sweat profoundly. His face is crimson. He pleads to her but I cannot hear what he says. Her eyes are full of tears getting ready to burst like rain. She drags him to the restroom and strips him of his smelly clothes. He sits on the toilet bent over like a broken doll, dropping drops of blood in the water. His head rests between his legs and his arms drape over his head like a curtain. He is like a stage getting ready for a performer. I think to myself what an easy way to get rid of him now. My face lights up with a smile knowing this could be his end. Then as she burns his clothes I fill with joy and excitement thinking she will do the same with him. But the lights turn off as I am left in the dark. 

The morning takes forever to come like if a year had gone by in my sleep. I get up and use the restroom. The water is red and forever tainted. Something’s wrong. There isn’t a sound. No breathing. No birds chirping. No alarms. No arguing. I wonder to myself if maybe she killed him in his sleep but just then I hear a gasp. “Good morning” she says so sweet in her baby doll voice. “Good morning love” he responds in his raspy deep low key voice. The storm is suddenly gone. The toxic air has escaped somehow, leaving the house purified. Not even an ash left to justify his crime. Everything is as though it was a nightmare and now the fairytale begins. No I say to myself, this is wrong. I didn’t dream it because the water is still red. I sit at the sofa and stare and the black TV. I hear footsteps moving behind me. He is making breakfast and she is combing her hair. They sit together on the couch, snuggling and smooching as though nothing happened. It was as though she was possessed and he was a demon if not the devil. 

I’m starting to have fewer blackouts. I’m starting to remember more and more. I’m starting to remember why I can’t remember things. But there are still some pieces missing. I stand by the window looking out at the driveway as she packs her things into the car. She is leaving for a few days to a retreat with the children. He is staying for work. She gives him instructions on what to do while she’s away. They kiss and she drives off. He comes back inside and sits on the sofa and begins to play video games. “Yeah, that’s what’s up, that’s what’s up” he says repeatedly as I watch game after game after game until I get so sick of it that I ask “aren’t you going to work today?” “Umm I got a text saying my appointment was cancel” he responds. I just stare with disbelieve that everything that comes out of this mouth is an utter lie. I go into my room and sit on the floor thinking of what to do. I hear a whisper. I turn my head left, I turn my head right, nobody’s there. I wonder if it could be him but this voice is different. There it is again. It’s so soft and soothing like music in my ears. I must find the mouth to this sound. I look behind the curtains and nothing is there. I look under the bed, nothing either. I look in the other rooms, empty. I go back to the living room where he is talking on the phone. It must have been his phone I think to myself. I begin to walk back to the bedroom when I hear “I’m in here” and I turn to the closet door. I slowly open it. It’s dark inside. I turn on the light and no one is in there. I move the garments from one side to the other, flipping through to reveal what’s behind, nothing. I lift my hand up and feel the boxes above, just boxes. As I turn off the light and begin to close the door something shines in my eyes. I stop closing the door. I slowly open it again. I kneel down. I reach and pull out a katana. So many questions begin to flood my mind; has this always been in here? Is it his? Is it mine? Why is it in here? What’s it’s for? Did she know about this? Does he known about this? Why is it speaking to me? Overwhelmed by the curiosity of the katana I gently set it back in its place and closed the door.

Two days have gone by. I begin to worry because I haven’t heard from her yet. I wonder if he has heard anything. But I dare not to ask. I get up off the floor and go the restroom. As I walk in a stench so foul makes me almost throw up. I look down at the mountain of dirty clothes that has accumulated in just these two days. I wash my hands and go into the kitchen. Dishes are up to the ceiling, trashcan is full to capacity, food is crusted on the stovetop, and debris is all over the floor. I begin to get extremely irritated at how filthy he is. But I try not to let it bother me because it is not my place. I go over to the sofa and sit down. Then he walks through the front door with a guy. They both sit on the sofa too. They begin to play video games and the guy attempts conversation. But I don’t speak. They just talk to each other about meaningless things that couldn’t be less important than what’s going on in the world. He makes himself seem as though he is talking of great importance in scholarly discussion. But really they are just talking about booze and cars. “If the mini had a supercharger it’d be like a boss” he says in his douchebag voice. “That would be rad” the guy responds. The conversation then shifts onto science and he says “the world is going to end in 2012.” “Yeah we’re all ganna die of gamma-ray burst” the guy says in a higher-hierarchy tone. After a while they decide to play a drinking game in their bedroom. How disrespectful I think to have a stranger on her bed, jumping and laughing while she is away. He offers me a drink, I turn away. They begin to get really noise and rowdy as the sun goes down. I sit on the recliner as my eyes lids slowly become heavier and heavier.  

When I wake I have a terrible headache. The lights are off and it is dark outside. I think to myself that the guy has left finally and he is passed out probably. But just then I hear the bedroom door creak open. I close my eyes and pretend I’m still asleep. The guy walks by without a shirt and is looking for something. He can’t seem to find what he is looking for so he goes back to the bedroom. Then he comes out too without a shirt saying “it was right here” standing in front of the open closet door. They begin to argue. The guy puts his shirt and shoes back on. The front door slams close. He begins to take everything out of the closet, throwing everything he sees over his head. He starts to cuss repeatedly until he has taken everything out. He turns on all the lights. “Where the fuck is it” he screams. I don’t respond. I have no idea what he or the guy are looking for. I still pretend to sleep. He goes into the garage. I open my eyes. I start to hear the ringing again and try to block my ears. I look down. There is a light in my pocket. I reach into my pocket and take out a phone. This isn’t my phone. It’s his. I push the green button and put the phone to my ear. My eyes widen. Air leaves my lungs. My body shivers. And I immediately fill with rage. He comes back into the house with a box. He notices that I am awake. “Have you seen my phone?” he asks. I shake my head. He tries to open the box with the keys he has but none of them fit the lock. He turns to me and says “let me see your katana.” I clench the katana as I shake my head. He steps closer “I just need it for a second to open the box to get my other phone out” he pleads. I stay silent. Then my life flashes before him. Everything that has happened, everything that has ever annoyed me about him, and everything that I hate about him displays before my eyes. He is the epitome of hell.  He is Satan the ruler of the underworld that dwells in pride, lust, gluttony, sloth, envy, wrath, and greed. I stand up and drop his phone on the floor in front of him. He looks at the phone and then his eyes lock onto mine. He steps back. I unleash the katana. It flies right across his neck. He tries to speak but he cannot. He falls to his knees. His eyes plead for forgiveness. He gets none. I bring the katana around once again, he plunges facedown.  

I hear the front door unlocking. I pick up my head and open my eyes. I rub my face with yellow latex gloves. Before I can think why I have gloves on the door flies open. “Hello, we’re back” she says. I stretch my arms and yawn. “You cleaned the whole house, you didn’t have to” she muttered under her breath as she makes her way to her bedroom. I get up and help with the bags. She asks where he is and I tell her I don’t know. She thinks he is probably at work and doesn’t worry. Once she settles in she starts to make lunch. It is a bright sunny day. I go outside to do some gardening. I water the freshly planted tulips while I whistle a song. Then she comes outside as well and we play ball with the kids. The sun goes down and we go inside. We end the day with a movie. 

I hear his voice. He’s talking about his new car. I open my eyes. He continues to talk about how amazing it is and gushes over it. I cannot believe my ears. I get up and go into the living room. There he sits on the sofa like he always does, ranting about pointless things. He gets on his phone and posts about his new car on the internet. “My new whip” he says, “it’s fucking awesome.” My eyes are in disbelieve. I killed him. That’s why I came here. I’ve never liked him despite his marriage to her. But for her I went under psychosis and wrap up my mind. But he slowly unraveled the bandage, bringing me back to reality. This cannot go on. I confront him. “Really?” he says and laughs. I say “yes really” and stare directly in his eyes. “Seriously, you’re going to say that.” “Shut up.” “Don’t talk to me like that” he stands up and points a sword in my direction. I draw out my katana. He swings directly to my face and slashes it. Blood drips down my face. His sword comes back again. I block it with the katana and kick him back. I release the katana and it flies at him, it misses. He comes back with both blades rotating in an X like motion. I flip backwards and miss one of them but my katana slashes my chest. Blood sprays the room red. I fall to the ground. He kicks my ribs. He drills both blades down. I rollover and do a windmill-kick. I knock the katana out of his hand. The katana slides under the sofa. He swings his sword at me. I throw a toy at him. “Really” he says and laughs “you clown.” I reach the sofa. He slashes it in half. I throw a pillow in his face. “Stupid clown” he yells and the sword goes right through it. I punch the pillow and his sword flies. He grabs my hair and pulls it. I elbow him in his face and he falls back. I slide across the floor to the katana. He jumps on top of me. He scratches my face trying to take out my eyes. I throw him off my back. I grab the katana. I turn to him. He has a gun in his hands pointed at me. “I win” he says. He fires the gun. I hold up the katana, it reflects the bullet and he goes flying through the window landing on his sword. I release air from my lungs and slowly breathe in. I fall to the ground. The sun illuminates the crimson room. I must see the body. I crawl through the shards of glass and debris. I want to make sure he is dead this time I tell myself. I get to the window and I stop. I stand up. His body isn’t there. What treachery is this? I cover my mouth. My eyes begin to leak and blood runs downs my chest. I step through the window. I kneel down. It’s her body. It’s her. I killed her. I fall next to her. The blade of the katana cut through to my heart. My eyes roll back and my hands fall to my side.


The Manifestation


I wanted to tell her something
And then I heard a whisper in my head
Correcting me instead
It said “really? Your trying to say that when this word means that.”
The words are in my head
But he takes them from my mouth
And he splats them on the ground
Trying to say something that I never said
And then I see his face up so high
Saying how he’s always right
So I punch him until he stops
And then I realized it was just the wall
So I paint the walls a different color
And I hear a whisper say that’s gay
And then I see his face in a haze
I swish a sword to his face
And the curtains fall off the rod
And outside the window she stares.

My Sister's Story


My sister is the oldest one but mentally she is the youngest one. She didn’t have a clue when she was in the eighth grade. She ran away in with a boy to the Cardinal CafĂ©. Oh what a scandal did she create, the teachers didn’t know who to blame. Is it the mother’s fault or is she just a little insane. A Christian girl with no moral values, what does that make her today? 

I still remember when I was a lot younger. My sister brought a boy to her bed. I crept around her bedroom window, looking at the boy she hid. She wanted to have sex with him but I kept pestering in. Now let’s fast forward to the high school days. She ran away with a boy she met in the drama club. Oh our mother had to search and search, we thought she was dead. But then we found her at the boy’s house, she was in his bed.

Now let’s go to the college years, so many years it was. There was a guy with long hair, don’t really know or care. It started with the guy in Spanish class, he was a little gay. She wanted to get married someday but he didn’t know if he was completely straight. He spent his nights at a bar while she was getting ready to fall. Oh it was such an epic fall she had to move on like a cheetah. She hunted and hunted her prey until she got so desperate she had to go for the gays. 

She met her husband at a gay club. Oh she thought it was love at first sight. But she didn’t know everyone at a club is a lusting parasite.  And now she lives in California thinking she’s a Real Housewife. She thinks her life is a fairytale but the only fairy is her husband who goes out at night shitting blood through his asshole, can someone give him a maxi pad. She threw away her education and ran away, like she always does. Now she wants to blame me for hypocrisy because I’m doing the things she couldn’t. But I’m sorry sister you don’t get to play the blame game when you simply just ran away.