(a rough draft of an experiment for a long form narrative)
The Life & Times
(All Nine {plus an extra one or two [maybe even a few]})
of Ol’ Tom-Cat Caine Hackett,
Mayor of Flood St.
Friend of the People!
Defender of Youth.
A man,
Nay - an Icon -
Who gave his all for you
In pursuit of a good time
and to find his own mind -
so that those who knew him,
In his heyday downtown
bopping around
the streets & alleys, in his gutter suit,
and his busted boots
like a vaudevillian *****, waxing with the moon,
Or waining, in his later days,
with its somber milieu,
could understand
What happened to him,
and why he did it,
and that he knew…
It was his; his own doing.
And undoing.
But All of it,
was a big, brilliant bit
he was Performing
just for you -
For “***** and giggles” and smiles and kicks and hits and slaps and laughs, even the misses too -
And it was just … something to do …
.^(@)^.
(an.. here’s the thing.. there was nothing you could do,
to stop it or alter his course,
that was up to him,
and he knew that too.)
Besides
We
<€=+~-.•^[{( @ )}]^•.-~+=€>
saw the whole thing
an “I” that never blinks
Introduction:
“Please Allow me, To introduce myself,
My name… is Mon Capitán Alon Godai. Professional. Professor of Prophecy at the Metatron Institute for Prophetic Dissemination. Not to be confused with Monsieur Godot (the similarities are indeed uncanny, profound even, however I assure you, we are easy to tell apart, for he is always late, and I… am perpetually rrRight! On time.)
Mon plaisir, monsieur. How Dooo you do?
I’d like to offer you a story, if you have some time to sit. It’s a bit of a meandering thing, but it comes together to get her in the end - and its a pretty path along the route.
Would you like to hear a tale of lies and troubled times that’s actually about victory and truth?
Well if you do, just stay right there, and I’ll be right back with you, but first - Some entertainment: perhaps a sad song would set the mood?
LLLET the SHOW BEGIN!
Please allow me to introduce to You:
- Ms. Monet Moneypenny -
and the Rag Time Review!
Bon Soirre, Mon amie! I hope you enjoy the tune!”
You think about what you’re doing, why you’re there and what you did and then you look back at it and you just …
euff.. *******.
That was close man.
You probably shouldn’t do that again.
That was one of the dumber bits you’ve seen all the way through.
That was definitely strange and stupid. The optics on it are gonna be tough to defend. I mean … what it looks like. . . Is you ******* up so hard, like you’re ******* for drug money like you probably would do. You’re too old to be a Coke ***** ******, and you’ve got better things to do. So get your **** together and get outta there. And leave it all behind. You probably should call a friend. You definitely been doing shady ****, and it’s about time you were through.
But instead you met the devil in all his faces on the streets and you let him right in and called him friend and told him to take a seat… \/~>
~>1^And he bought you something to eat, gave you somewhere to be, get yourself a bath, have a bit of a chat, a little of that, and then you got somewhere to sleep, for free. Then He talks about what he thinks you can be. Makes you think you can do it and it’ll sweet. He tells you he “can make you plenty.”
“It’s easy kiddo, you’ll see. You’ll start making boats of money. You just hang with me.”
^\/ And he flashes cash so fast in stacks and racks and he talks too fast to keep up and he slings it out with reckless abandon and he wants the best for you and he kinda seems like he means it like it’s le-***. ~>And it’s just what you’ve been looking for, hoping and praying for, for it to somehow just show up .. and it shows. so you kinda get taken hostage without even knowing what you know you know.
You know you shoulda seen it before you did, you always do. (Both in that you always “shoulda seen it coming,” but you never do, AND you do see it coming you just do what you’re gonna do.) but you didn’t… so now you deal with it. Buuuut You didn’t because you looked up and away from it and you chose to believe in A Savior so it’s on you, you know.. You know? … You know.
but you don’t know that
… so you Go!
(--)/ yay!!!
Yeah? Can you teach me? Can I call you teach? I can learn anything I want to, if I wanna do it, at least I believe I can; I haven’t done it, per se, but gimme a shot man, I won’t waste it, you’ll see just what I can do (^^) lol
•You set the chessboard up slowly unfolding everything take out the timer unroll the mat, flatten it out set the pieces and correct his setup and listen and conversaré
“Sure thing”
~>2 And that-
was a stupid mistake.
It was CLEARLY a con,
you knew that…
From the start.
But you both got something. And what’s the worst that can happen, you get caught doing druggie stuff with a straight guy in a hotel room? You don’t care what people think, and you’re straight (enough) you just like being a friend and you need friends cuz you profoundly lonely by yourself when it’s just you and yourself and I and me and my… and him and that guy, and maybe those two, ^And her, no not her. (Gestures “around with their finger, shushing, and then points) Her ugh. Move.) annnd.. uh ..you. get held up and stuck, sometimes you get ****** up, sometimes you get ******, sometimes you get to do the ******:~>
sometimes it *****.
Sometimes it’s a win…
Not usually but it could be, seemed like it might’a been :-/
-> and you don’t have to scratch it in to something, but you kinda a want to, as a marker, like on a tomb, anonymous and sequestered, in a corner or on a door jamb, in cryptic symbols, like hobos used to do. The real Ones that rode the rails hopping cars chasing youth, choosing freedom and truth (and also fleas and poverty and drugs and *****); they used to make chalk marks on buildings along the route, and the symbols grew up and made a language - or - at least a lexicon…
…sometimes it’s a little messy, sometimes it’s illegal. Sometimes it seems like it was dangerous, but you were safe, it’s very easy to confuse. When it feels safe is when you lose. Comfy fools get caught and shot when the hunters show up looking for food, Or fodder for the war machines to keep em moving and full of boots. If it’s dangerous it keeps you jumping, on your toes. Cooling your heals is fine, but resting on your laurels isn’t working and you gotta keep moving if you wanna keep a step of head of consequences. Always on the Move! Moving targets are harder to hit and this target ******* MOoooVES!
:~>•*•.
(‘:
****… got me.
(Hahaaah! Hahaheheh…)
What’s a little mess to clean up? It’ll wash off with money. . . and Besides-
it ain’t my room.
Notes for footnote12/19/23 - 1/17/24 - 2/6/24 - 3/9/24
Authors note: this was composed in a manic state in the throws of addiction, during the rockiest bottom I have yet to experience. So if it seems a little off, just know, it is, because I was. It’s been edited and reformatted and repurposed, but the heart of it cannot escape that 4 day span of drug-induced sleep deprivation and psychosis… addiction was hell, and I had no idea I was even on fire. It was not a good look for me. Hopefully not a clown suit I’ll put on ever again. Certainly won’t be soon.
