A little off topic

Nei Jia: the Qigong and Taijiquan Forum Taijiquan and the Internal Martial Arts
1

Thought I’d take this opportunity to work on my writing skills.

Harry was walking down the street. He was hungry again. Feverish images quickly ran through his mind. The longer he went without eating, the more sensitive he became. He was like an insect now, a reptile. “Good!” He shouted to himself, “I haven’t eaten in a week, let me go another week without eating!” And just to spite himself, he kicked a bit of a crust of bread that he’d been stalking for an hour down the storm drain.

He felt victorious now, somehow. He was undefeatable. He smirked at all the weaklings walking by, to their voluntary slavehood of workcarswomenkidsmoneydrugshomeclothingdeath. He was not defined by his situation, by god! He may be a starving friendless lonely grieving broken insane creature but he was free!

to be continued-

2

on point- I am feeling these words

voluntary slavehood of workcarswomenkidsmoneydrugshomeclothingdeath

today you are presented with commendation from the I-dren council of the

Allied Systems of Babylon Crushing

asbc - honorary inductee 2001

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All of a sudden Harry had to sit down in a doorway, it reeked of urine. He didn’t feel too good. Not very good at all, come to that. This feeling, it reminded him of something, what? Then he remembered. Years ago he’d been living in Spanish Harlem, in an old SRO near where he’d seen his first shooting. One of those broken down old buildings where you pay by the week, by the day, and every resident is a junkieprostitutedrugdealeraddictcriminalinsane. He’d gotten a knock on the door one day from one of his neighbors, an old blue woman with a couple of teeth who looked like a female William Burroughs. She’d tried to sell Harry some pills, some blue pills. Then she took him to her room to show him some pink pills. When she opened her door this- kitten started leaping up and down at him, mewling, thin as a skeleton, half insane with hunger. It looked kind of like a spider. It just kept making this high pitched mad mewling and leaping up and down, the old woman he guessed had forgotten to feed it for a while. That was what Harry felt like now, that kitten.

‘Jesus God!’ Harry said to himself, 'How low I’ve sunk!" And he began to hit himself in the chest, again and again, crying over and over ‘Jesus God, have mercy on me!’ He was sobbing soundlessly, and kept thunking himself like that in the chest, and then he heard something crack.

4

Hey that’s good, kinda sick, but GOOD :smiley: :eek: :stuck_out_tongue: :wink: :rolleyes: :o :frowning: :wink: :smiley: :smiley:

        ~K~

the super-duper supreme

5

That was it, that was the final straw. Harry gave up. He told the Creator to take him back into his bosom. He was done. He’d had enough, Indignity upon indignity. He dared God to take him now. He laughed madly, shook his fist at God, spat. Cursed him, denounced him for eternity. Hummed tunelessly, sang, sobbed, laughed.

Harry felt a bit better after all this, as he always did. He sat up, careful not to disturb his now broken chest. He decided to take a walk to one of his regular haunts, the local cemetary. And why not? he thought to himself. Why shouldn’t I go for a walk? Who will prevent me from it, who says I haven’t the right to go for a simple walk? I am after all, a human being, aren’t I?, however sick broken and depraved. By God, who wants to prevent me from taking such a walk? Show yourself, you faceless cretin, I’ll stand on your face. Who have I ever harmed, come to that? Well, recently?

So he walked on, head bowed, knees caked with vomit. He didn’t notice much the people passing by. His eyes were on the ground, his thoughts much taken with loftier concepts, metaphysics, religion, the problem of dualism, supper.

He came to his favorite bench in the cemetary. It was occupied. This was unusual. Laying on his bench was a woman, of indeterminate age. Shabbily clothed, dirty, stinking- in short, beautiful. Another one of the junkies so common in this part of town. He looked down at here, his soul swelled up in him. Ah, she’s so beautiful, like a teacup, he thought. From her sleeping eyes tears of pure heroin depended. He had found his queen at last.

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He kissed her full on the lips. She tasted like mother’s milk and oreo cookies without the black parts and he felt his soul as if blown by a wind. Ecstacy overtook him. He shook with it. He had found his queen at last! No longer would he be alone! No longer blown like a tumbleweed by the breezes of fate, an infant floating in space wailing soundlessly. damn it, he felt good. Really good. Very good. Good, damn it.

He was woken from his sweet reverie by the stirring of the god given creature at his side. She yawned, farted. Opening her mouth wide Harry was given an unencumbered view of the orifice belonging to her face. It held, proudly, three teeth, distant neighbors, and rather discolored ones at that. Her eyes, when opened, were spiderwebs of bloodshot and dementia. Harry deflated like a balloon. “Is there noplace, noone on earth for me?”, he thought dejectedly.-