Amphetamine City

The tires of the bus screech loudly as it rolls to a stop. I awake from my deep slumber, rubbing my eyes… I blink, staring through the window, but the streetlights only reflects back a dimly lit park in the dark night.I tilted my head up to view the digital clock above the passageway, 00.10 it read and minutes later, the conductor comes through.I recalled asking him about 6 hrs earlier how long the bus ride was.He halts beside me, “Ma’am, we’ve reached the final stop, you will need to exit here” then tipping his hat, his voice lowers, “farewell” then he continues past me. I let out a soft yawn as I dragged my baggage from under the seats, getting up. I stepped out into the cold night; at long last, It’s amphetamine city.

He halts beside me, “Ma’am, we’ve reached the final stop, you will need to exit here” then tipping his hat, his voice lowers, “farewell” then he continues past me. I let out a soft yawn as I dragged my baggage from under the seats, getting up. I stepped out into the cold night; at long last, It’s amphetamine city.

 

Twenty minutes later, the Uber pulls up at the farm house and I walk up to the door. I press and listen to the loud clunk of the bell from within. I close my eyes and inhale deeply as I hear the footsteps closing in around the door.It swings ajar and my beloved aunt Fontane stands at the opposite side of the welcome mat wearing a broad grin on her face, which sorta made me start to smile. Her lips parted “welcome home Alexander” she started stepping aside from the doorway; “welcome to amphetamine city”.

I stepped into the grand parlor, memories of my prepubertal years flooded my brain, like the time I ran up those never ending stairs, slipped and broke my early incisor.It felt great being back being back here; yet strangely unsettling, like something was wrong.

“well hello there darling”, I was swayed from my thoughts by an airy voice.My neck reverts back to the stairs. The silhouette of a lady posing on the top, her lips were thin with dark tan nevi around her neck.She wore her hair in an updo and the V-neck flowing top seemed to accentuate her long neck. I noticed the color flow into her cheeks. It was Aluna, I was ecstatic, perhaps because I am proud of the woman she was becoming. She fastened down the stairs, twirling across the room towards me

“Now that we’re all here ” interrupted Fontane “let’s have dinner”.

Dinner was a big celebratory feast, after which we all went outside and a bonfire was started.My grandmom simply referred to as “Nana” sat adjacent to me outside as we silently watched the fire grow and ashy debris fall from the smoke.

“What is it that brought you back” Nana finally ended the silence. I remained mute “What is it?” she relented.

“I just enjoy this place” I splurged ….”but it doesn’t feel like home”.

 

******

amphet

 

Months flew by, but the overall dynamic of the house was destabilized, our grand feasts quickly reduced to weeks old bread and lukewarm water.Even the crops were wilting. “what is going on?” Aluna exclaimed, extremely vexed, thumping hard on the bed, her head supported by her wrists.I lowered myself in front of her, pushing all of my weight onto my forefoot. I felt bad.

” I can make this all go away”, I tell her “I could make you happy again”

“how?” she asks in awe

“This place, you, Fontana, are merely figments of my imagination, I could rewrite this whole script” I pause “and then I could leave, forever”

 

she wipes her face “you never told me why you came back”

“I needed a safe house, somewhere I was familiar with— but I can’t stay here”

“well if you do leave, who wins?” she asks

I blink ” No one I suppose”.

Climb onto the highest building top.Inhale deeply and watch as the peasant scurry to the call of their master. Now shut your eyes, tightly, You’re almost here…..it’s Amphetamine City. 

 

Amphetamine city is the continuation of Yellow Roses, these stories portrays the never-ending journey towards self discovery.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zenitude

That one over there,

She doesn’t really talk much you know; just sits there, scribbling into that ugly notebook pretending to read meaning into the life’s essence.

There has to be a reason; probably not a good one.

memiors 18

The sun rays splash across my face, beating me with heat as I lay in my hammock, a smile beaming across my face because my eyes are hidden behind these sunglasses, protected from all these shades.

Never been good at communicating; don’t know it, neither did I learn it. I know; I know, most people don’t learn it, they just inherently develop it innit?

It’s not “forming” as they call it, I am simply a student and  I prefer to observe and study life.If I seem alone and mysterious; It is because I silently reflect; so again I am not being evasive, but simply exploring behavior patterns.People have a fascinating hierarchy in life, however, I chose which subjects fascinates me enough to retain my presence and I simply do not care for others.

That I do not care for a subject is not a  reflection of their being and doesn’t mean a damn thing.It shouldn’t matter because a lot of others would prove to find value in them.

I have a knack for getting into my own head more often than most do.It’s more than a welcome visit; I live here now, my sanctum if you will, but like every other environment, It can get overwhelming.So I constructed these walls to keep the sun out and guard my skin, tending to my sanctum and nursing my sunburns. I reinforced these walls, shield myself from the dysfunctional world and by doing so, I fortify the side of me people simply believe to be, unaffectionate.

Turns out, I have mastered the act of zenitude, yielding from the tree of quiescence, finding an ally in it’s solitude and pure energy.If you’re wondering if it’s worth it, I’ll ask; does skin peel after a sunburn?

In the absolutely uninspired, biased lyrics of Nicki Minaj,”I give zero fucks; and I’ve got zero chill in me”.