Me myself and my pride --wakey wakey eggs and bakey-

He knew his pride would see her. The very act of bringing another woman into the house would stir her and bring her down the steps. He smiled knowingly, confidently proud of what he had brought home to his pride. He watched the bacon sizzle on the skillet. He liked this new girl, liked her a lot. He liked her so much that he had picked her up after working a four am shift, just to cook her breakfast. He started cracking eggs, maybe it was her cute little way of talking, maybe it was the way she smiled shy. Maybe he was just getting lonely again, he didn’t know what made him like her so much but he knew his pride had to meet her. With that thought he turned from the stove to face her, he watched her, her eyes day dreaming. She sat politely at the table. He smiled a laugh before speaking.

“What’s wrong space cadet? Putting you to sleep?” she inhaled sharply, as if she had just been thrown back into air, as if she had just been tossed back into her body. “No, no I was just watching.”

“Watching?”

“Watching chef Steven and the sunshine Kitchen.” She beamed. The grin that had started on his face was paused as he heard footsteps above him. His pride was awake, and moving around the second floor of his home. His eyes watched the ceiling tracing her steps until she could be seen coming down the stairs. He smiled politely at his guest, sitting at the kitchen table, and returned his attention to the eggs. He prepared to confront his pride.

“Oh! Well, what do my eyes see? You cooking?” Steven heard laughed behind him. The tone was mocking, confrontational, and at the same time it was genuine surprise. His pride continued “Well Steven, this must be a special occasion. In who’s honor?” Steven turned to see his pride examining his guest who sat silent, politely eating her food.

“How’s the bacon?” he asked his guest intentionally ignoring his prides bohemian movements of examination.

“Oh, its good, fantastic. I just don’t want to pig out in front of you.” She said with a shy laugh, and a little embarrassment. His pride laughed mockingly as she threw her arms around his guest who continued to eat her food uninterrupted.

“Isn’t she just the cutest?” she said with a pinch of the girls cheek. “Really Steven, who says that kinda stuff? Don’t believe her.”

“Teasing me, huh?” Steven said looking directly at his guest. He smiled his best smile for his pride, who still hung over his guest. His pride smiled back defiantly her chin resting on the girls shoulder.
“No. I mean it. I love it, I just know I will get hungry again later on an this is all I’ll have to eat for today.” He nodded as he turned his eyes back to his pride who had started walking around the house opening blinds.

“Oh! Looks to be a lovely, lovely day today.” She sang out trying to drown out his guest.

“I don’t mean to rush…” Steven’s guest started. She stammered looking around the floor for words. He let silence coax her into speaking. He busied himself cleaning the kitchen. His pride gasped in excitement and quickly returned to the table taking a seat. She moved her chair next to Steven’s guest. His pride glared hard at the girl mouth waiting for the rest of the words to come out, waiting, as if she could see them coming out of her lips before the girl spoke them.

“Oh this is it!” his pride rubbed her hands together as if she would be eating the words that came out of the girls mouth. “She wants to hurry up so she can go.” His pride scooted even closer to the girl who had a shy smile and eyes searching for words. “Yep, more games…its just more games. The girl wants a quick meal.” His pride smiled sweetly at him her eyes shining catching the light.

“She had no idea I was taking her here, I told her I would get her breakfast when we left her house.” Steven looked at his pride as he dried his hands. “Her friend just text me thinking we were going to McDonalds.”

“Exactly.” His pride was busy straightening the place mats on the table “She wanted you to order her a sausage Mc biscuit not try and cook one.

“I just…” Steven started before his guest interrupted him.

“I don’t mean to rush into this but how many kids did you want? Like just one or two or did you want the whole Nevada college basketball team.” He quickly turned his face away from his guest to a nearby window to feign interest in the weather. He had not expected a question like that, he had nearly let his pride convince him that this girl was just…but then his pride was always skeptical of any woman he introduced her to. After he had turned his back on his pride for a girl once before, his pride now acted like the sole guardian of his heart. She took her job seriously.

“I see…well I have always wanted a little girl…” his pride throw her hands down on the table in hysterical laughter

“Is this serious? Is she serious? She’s already thinking this far ahead? What, she already loves you?” His pride affectionately rubbed the girl’s cheek with the back of her hand. “Have you been keeping this beautiful young woman away from me? How long have you know her?” she smiled almost singing. Steven slowly drank milk as he watched his pride with one eye. He drew a refreshing breath and smiled bracing himself for the impact of his reply.

“Two nights.”

“Only two nights?” she suddenly stopped rising slowly from her chair. “Then surely you don’t believe any of this do you?” His pride pointed accusingly at his guest. “The girl has not even known you a month! Are you fool?” He laughed tossing back his head.

“I thought you ladies all think far-out like that.” He gave a casual shrug. His guest spoke

“Oh, well cause I thought I would like a little boy, just one you know, and spoil him. Well not spoil, but you know what I mean.”

“I know” Steven smiled approvingly

“You know, but its okay either way.”

“I really like her.” He spoke softly looking at his pride.

“Why? What’s with her?” his pride wringed her nose in disgust

“She’s cute, confident and determined. Sexy, and I like her vibe. Plus being the man that I am, I enjoy her booty.”

“Steven…” His pride frowned eyes closed hand on her forehead. Steven continued as if he never heard her.

“Its nice and soft, just the right size for my head. I used it as a pillow one night.”

“Steven.”

“We fell asleep on the floor together the first night we met.”

“Steven!” his pride got up from the table in frustration, and paced around the table. Steven’s guest sat silent eating her food her eyes lost in space. “God! See that’s why! You had sex!” He shook his head as he put away the eggs.

“No, we didn’t. That’s part of why I dig her, she wasn’t playing that game.”

“Steven…” his pride stomped her foot pleading almost whining his name.

“Can I not have a friend?” he frowned. His pride with her face in a spoiled frown on her face nodded toward the girl.

“She is staring off into space.”

“She is being a space cadet again, been all morning. She just looks off.”

“With the…most awe struck smile on her face.” His pride shook her head in disappointment.

“Is that what it is?” Steven played naïve. His pride sighed as she walked towards him.

“Well, she seems to live you…I approve.” His pride spoke reluctantly as she slowly looked at hum. Her face suddenly full of sympathy and soft. “For now.”

“I really appreciate you doing this, no man has ever cooked breakfast for me, thank-you.” Steven turned to the girl and smiled with approval.

“Well look at you, flattering me.” Steven replied to the girl but watched as his pride silently walked up to him.

“Not at all.” She laughed. “Its perfect, I love it.” Steven’s pride embraced him lovingly, her arms around his neck, she on the tips of her toes spoke into his neck.

“I love you Steven okay? Just don’t go getting hurt again. You have fun, but I’ll be watching. Please listen when I talk.” She whispered. Steven chuckled.

“Well good, glad to hear it.”

Twelve thirty

Only once the drinks are done…
I feel like dying
I feel like dying

I’m starting to think I was a failure from the start. The doctor should never have helped me from the start. Should of left me in my mother, abort me. Nip it in the bud save me the trouble of killing myself. I don’t feel sorry for myself I’m starting to hate myself. I’m mad at myself for the failure I have become. I sit here half sober, half intoxicated. Only so I can’t think straight. Only so I can’t plan the death straight. I drink to save myself from myself and this failure I have become.

“Cant you even die right?”
Nope, not with all this liquor in me.
But I can still write. I don’t want to kill myself because I can’t do it over. Skipping from life to life only to find that the one you had left was better than expected. In retrospect Treating life like a lover, leaving her for another, greener grass on the other side just to see it was all a lie. To wake up from death whishing you hadn’t. Wishing you could have back what you wanted so badly to take away. No, No...no not that. I’ll work this till its done, they’ll take this life only from my cold dead hands.

And so brings depression.
Monday brings hope
Tuesday brings happiness
Wednesday brings reality
Thursday brings me to the edge
Friday and Saturday I try and forget
Sunday I feel like dying.

To Dream

“Now there is a self conscious man, he fixes his shirt collar, using his shadow like a mirror.”

It is times like these that make talented Sailors. Rough seas. The harder the wind blows the stronger you get. I had nightmares about days like this. During the day all I saw was this nightmare that life would be as it is now. And at night I would dream of better. Times like this make me wish I were still dreaming. Times like this make me want to cry myself to sleep just so I can dream. But then the nightmare always wakes me.

I want to write of better things, but I am an artist I can only write what I know. I know of dreams. Of love and life. Dreams to keep you up all night, waiting hoping for them to come true.

Why does the artist live nightmare before dream?
Better than dream first then nightmare?

I never knew how much appreciation I would have from a half hours rest on an old couch. When you don’t know where or how you will sleep next you start to appreciate every little second of comfortable sleep you are getting. I haven’t slept in a bed in…long enough time for me not to remember. I’ve slept on the pavement before I slept on a couch. And the thought of a night spent under the stars is appalling. It isn’t always the safest. I always found it humorous to see bums in hand me down suits. I feel like them now. I walk around in suits but I have no closet to hang them. No money in the pockets, no office to return to.

I feel so old because all the days seem long. Nothing about this life I live is fast. It’s a slow process. All your speed must be used for adaptation to the new situation. A new life. It’s funny, I sit on the brink of either great success or great ruin. And since I am stubborn enough to keep writing I hope that others may learn from either.

Sometimes when I want to think about killing myself, I trick myself into believing I am too hard on myself. But everyone is hard on me. Their reasons all the same. “We expect great things out of you.” If this life is supposed to be so great then why do I think so much about taking it? If only so I won’t become a failure.

I can’t be a failure…
Or
I can not become a failure!

To be or not to be that is the question. People’s lives have been where I am right now. Worse. They lived to tell about it. The only reason I know they lived is because they were once like me and made it through to tell us about it. To tell us, others, that all hope is not lost and dreams do come true. I sit here in purgatory, the dangerous middle ground between success and failure. These choices made here will decide where I spend my years. Either telling passerby’s how I could have been something or how I became that something.

To dream or not to dream. That sir is the question. Whether it is nobler in ones mind to suffer the slings and arrows life throws at dreams and live to see them awaken or wake to life’s harsh realties