Posterity for the Second-Second-Blonde-Child-After-Brian Jones' Sake

BAM!

    “Holy shit, what the hell was that?”
    Almost whiplashing over, of course fucking him over there, a shotgun in one hand, a cigar in his mouth, both items wafting smoke out of them. I put the two-and-two together.
    “Did you just light your cigar with a shotgun?” Just to confirm.
    “Yeah, I did.” He said, completely nonchalant, I was in disbelief for a second, but then I remembered that he probably wouldn’t care less if that gun accidentally blew his head off. A non-inconvenient occurrence of simple circumstance; he wanted to smoke, if you look at it from all three angles he was going to die anyway, and by extension…Me.

    One: Scientific fact, smoking kills, as does second-hand smoke.
    “Do you want some?” He asks.
    “No.”
    Two: Probability, could’ve blown his head off, and I can’t hold them all off by myself.
    “You have to admit, I can handle shotguns pretty well with one hand!”
    Three: Math, not like that would matter much, there are still too many for the both of us to hold off.
    “They will have heard that, they’ll be here shortly.”
    “Yeah…” I said.

    “I should’ve warned you so you could take a picture… You know, for posterity.” He said, breaking the silence.
    “Is this a time to worry about posterity? We’re not going to be around to posteritize much about it.” I said.
    “Exactly! That is the kind of fucking pictures you see, you know? On the covers of magazines, and shown in documentaries, like that picture of the poor fucker in the Vietnam War you see about to get his head blown off. No one remembers his name or what he did…”
    “He killed like a dozen people that same morning or something.” I interrupted.
    “But that doesn’t really matter in the picture; you remember his face, that shit sticks with you.”
    He paused for a little bit.
    “I’ve never been much of the thinker…”
    “No really? Says the man that lights his smokes with a gun?” I interrupted again, and he puffs a cloud of smoke my way.
    “But that’s the kind of thing I care about.”
    “Looking cool?” I just want to give him a hard time.
    “No! I mean yeah sorta, but that’s not what I’m talking about…”
    He gives it another minute.
    “Being remembered you know?”
    “You’re such a rock star," I told him, "Hunter S. Thompson, Kurt Cobain…”
    “Edie Sedgwick.” He refutes.
    “Oh yeah?” He is more complicated than I thought.
    “Yeah, I completely identify with her.”
    “Then it makes sense why we are here now, when you look up to self-destructive kinds of people.” As if learning his lesson now will be of any use right now.
    “I prefer to look at it as ‘self-deconstructive’. For that I know who I am and what I want.”
    “And what’s that?” I ask, just to confirm.
    “A picture of me lighting my cigar with a shotgun.” He gives it a second before asking. “Does the camera still have anymore film on it?”
    I shuffle through my bag, whatever, dud plastic explosives, a few rounds, symbols of ideals that aren’t so much worth a damn right now, tools that failed us against these damn monsters trying to do crap-knows-what-and-even-if-we-did-who-gives-a-damn kinds of things to our planet. Yeah, the camera still has some space on it.
    “Alright,” he says, “let’s do it.”
    “How many bullets do you have left?” I ask.
    “I don’t know exactly,” He counts in his head “like 4 or 5.”
    “Ok, let’s get this in one, two at the most.”

Your Beautiful, But Black Clothes Make Me More So.

Your violent fashion is a locked room and only I have the key, with a sweater so black their eyes will just slide off of the both of us.

No fucking originality in that one at all, both lines are a reference to something.

I Feel A Nostalgia for Communistic Things

Baby, this was a philosopher's war,
So it wasn't easy.
Not in ending,
Not to begin
Yes we're lamenting, this was a tough war to win.

The Post-Modern Prometheus

If you could at least pretend to show some concern, that would go a long way in helping.

Well I'm not okay, I'm not oh-fucking-kay.

So I've written about a novella's (or so) worth of material in a month and a half or so. My brain is mentally drained from all these collegial labors, (disregarding finals). Its been taxing on my psyche, already strained by a short attention span (guess what I should be doing right now?) and a lack of reserve energy (at all times let alone now). Furthermore my tribulations are not done yet, still 10 more pages to go, that will bring my count to about 60+ pages total and over 17,000 words, at least a novella by any definition.

And I think I wore too many layers of clothes, today's count brings me up to 5, its making me look fatter then I usually do.

1st layer: Small KXLU t-shirt
2nd layer: Medium Grey t-shirt
3rd layer: Longsleeve Green shirt
4th layer: Grey hoodie
5th layer: Daniel Johnston t-shirt

Excessive?

Ugh, well no, I am okay, its just that song is how I feel.

For the record, My Chemical Romance is a good band. There ... I said it.

I want to make a U2 cover band, It'll be called Us2, and it will be just us two. And we'll make our first album, "We Were Also At The Joshua Tree, But U2 Didn't Notice Us There At the Time."

I want to make so many bands, but just to use up these awesome band names I came up with;
-I'm A French Existentialist Writer, Love Me!*
-I'm Not the Enemy Shao Kahn Is*
-The Band Before Time (Land Before Time cover band)*
-I'm Rainbow Fucking Randolph (Lots of I'ms)
-Philip K Dick the Movie
-Bring Me the Head of Miles Davis
-GASP!!
-I'm In!
-Eejanaika (Isn't It Great?)
-What the Hell

If you want to use any of them, let me know first and I'll let you know if its okay. The Star (*) denotes that you can't, but the others you can ask.

I'm okay now
I'm okay now
But you really need to listen to me
Because I'm telling you the truth, I mean this, I'm okay.
(Trust me)

And the sky was all violet.

I think I want to be a writer, I mean aside from the whole music bit, something to do on my downtime I guess...

Not sure what kind, probably not a novelist, but short stories would be fun.

This Saturday were playing a show at the L'KEG Gallery, come check us out.

http://www.lkeggallery.com/