The End
“You can’t remain stagnant. People are scared of change and always want to complain about shit while doing nothing. People are scared, but if you remain the same, you will stay there while everyone else blows you by.” Jerrell Mitchell, Street Poet, December 2, 2015.
Feebly lit street lamps cover the boardwalk I admire above from my silently sullen hotel room, as I view a semi erupt ocean several hundred feet in the distance. I feel the feeling of truth flow through my pulsating veins as I hear the anthem of “It’s never too late” throughout my elegantly racing mind grow obscenely loud. There are currently no wandering souls occupying the boardwalk or the ocean’s grey-white shore, allowing me to realize there must be an underworld yearning to be conjured, discovered.
I am a mere vacationer in these lands, here to celebrate my step-brother’s wedding. “Is that something rising from the grey-white sands?” I inquire internally to myself, trying to overcome the steady bursts of influential wind. I make my way across the darkened boardwalk’s width, pursuing the ocean’s grey-white shore. I begin to teeth and bleed; it is quite unbearable. I admire through my sharp anguish and shocking evolution, a lone soul wincing, trying to fight its way above the unforgiving sands from an underworld that no one besides its captives can relate to; my guts are growling, turning, infuriated with circumstance.
“Where are all the normal ones, the humans that been programmed to a tee?” the damaged, sand beach BEING gurgles. I look out into the ocean’s massive domain, into a dimension of surreal divinity, swearing to myself I can see a giant approaching upon floating chariot, commanding its amphibious slaves to pull faster, harder towards the ocean’s tumultuous grey-white awaiting shore I reside upon. “Maybe the GIANT’s intention was to arrive at the ocean shore and greet me and the lone BEING from the underworld with open arms?” The semi slimy, underworld BEING continued to try and rise from the grey shore sands prematurely, making my guts growl more and more with sickness. I wander, in a morbid almost comical state, distancing myself from the insidious creature, covered from head to toe within a growing gelatinous film that made me think of Jell-O and nefarious shiny latex, hand in hand.
I become heated, hearing and recognizing my insides chomping upon themselves, turning into compelling bits; the time never seems RIGHT. Never underestimate the moment. Moments are our LIVES.
Imagine me, a mere vacationer tearing the decaying filmy flesh, with my bare fucking hands, from a slimy, sand BEING. It finally breaks free from its plot of grey-white sand that reeks putrid, as my teeth begin to fall out of my uncertain head, evolving into polished fangs that lend me the ability to feast upon future lonely souls if I choose. I bite graciously into the lone figure of the underworld that has risen from the bitter sweet grey-white, swallowing an exaggerated bite from ITS barely beating chest. “She,” as I begin to deem my victim, lends one eye shut as I continue to ravage “her” with cannibalistic enthusiasm. She continues to stare at me coldly, unenthusiastically, thankfully as if I was doing her the biggest favor anyone had ever done for her; ENDING ALL MISERY. So horrible, my vile victim tastes, as I spit out a rancid portion of her chest from my over sensitized palate, beginning to feel my turning bones begin to excruciatingly ache. I grow as high as a gigantic skyscraper, reaching high within the black sky; I still feel I still have a chance.
The Giant upon his floating chariot slammed forward with raging velocity towards the grey white shore, each amphibious slave on the floating chariot slammed their set of gigantic hideous fins into the stinging waters with more urgency, more severity. The Giant’s “Creature from the Black Lagoon” slaves saw me as inferior to their master, eyeing me with blank, leviathan stares as they guided their vessel gracefully to the edge of the grey white shores, sending a burst of salty ocean into my bloodshot eyes. There came silence all around as the Giant and his cast of obedient, slippery slaves viewed me with great contemplating intensity. “Am I a dead man, dead being, dead beast, dead whatever? What have I evolved into so quickly, so truly, without understanding?” I breathed in the briny ocean air genuinely, moving forward into the calling ocean waters. Passing the cast of silent, amphibious slaves, each of them looking into the eye of a massive being I was now face to face with, THE GIANT; a mammoth of a being, 300 X INFINITY. There were no words exchanged between myself and the commander of the sea’s chariot. There was just a long personal stare between us, unwavering until a perfect gust of shoreline breeze struck us both, establishing an understanding of what the future further mission was to be. I climbed upon the sturdy chariot, side by side with my hardy ally, as the cast of loyal amphibious servants below used their sets of hideous fins to turn our vessel back towards the ocean’s openness and epic mystery ahead. Behind us, countless rising clammy figures of death attempted to rise from the grey-white shores, to follow us out into the vast ocean waters, but to no avail; they just fell and became swallowed up deeper thicker into the sand below. The giant and I, and our army of slippery amphibious beings, moved with impressive velocity deeper out into the darkened waters, moving towards destinations we would admire and then conquer. “Say hello to God, say hello to the Devil, and say goodbye to the past.”
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