BLACK AND GRAY

      Many of us spend our whole lives trying to be right. Trying to find the truth. Others spend their whole lives trying to forget. Trying to escape the fact that their wrong. The former may be the result of the latter. Read me?

WE OUT HERE

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for ART class...Gabe's Fictional Story

        

    Little Timmy Johnson’s school teachers all thought he just had an over active imagination. Even his own parents didn’t quite know what to think. They had tried every kind of medicine and treatment possible, but no one could figure out what was wrong with this seemingly healthy, happy, normal looking little boy. Little Timmy just seemed to be in his own little world, all the time. His school grades were terrible, he didn’t have any friends and wasn’t interested in anything other kids is age liked to do. He just didn’t respond to normal stimuli. 

The unbelievable and unknown truth is that little Timmy actually had a kidney bean sized tumor deep in the back part of his brain...

Night Terror

Night Terror aka Sleep Paralysis is a very strange thing. Is it just a result of 'wacky' brain chemistry that can be easily explained away by science or is it a some sort of visitation from an unseen reality? I have my opinion, but I will keep that to myself and share my experience instead.

Psychology 101

I just started my second term back in community college. Looking forward to my Psychology 101 class. Today, while discussing relationships, some guy blurted out "Ya know,  the leading cause of divorce in America is marriage!"

EUGENE & THE FLATUS

  If I’m getting out of the Salem area for an evening, I’m much more partial to head north towards Portland. But I’m all about ‘good mojo’ and going with the flow and that’s how I ended up here in Eugene. This is only my third visit since I’ve lived in Oregon. Honestly, I’ve never really been that fond of Eugene. To me, it’s just a bunch of oblivious hairy stoner hippies and brainwashed liberal college people that think they know everything. That being said, I’m determined to discard my superficial first impressions and keep an open mind. 

      Fro thinks it may be mild food poisoning. Ever since ‘Soul Food’ day at work, I’ve had issues. I ate a bunch of greasy Jack in the Box and half a pound of prunes last night hoping that would clear me out, no luck. Hydrogen sulfide and varying amounts of noxious methane are expanding like thunderclouds in my assmosphere. It’s the kind of gas that may not be gas at all. Very unpredictable. I ask myself, “Do I feel lucky?” I don’t, ever. I need a toilet, bad. 

Sherman is dead.

      Sherman was only thirty-two years old. Just one year older then me. 

      Light rainfall against a soggy grey twilight backdrop. A few degenerate types were huddled outside the squatty ʻSection 8ʼ apartment complex somewhere off of Portland Rd. 

      When we get the phone call, weʼre given the address and a name and thatʼs it. Ready for anything, we walked into the place of death. The Chief Medical Examiner for all of Marion County and a young cop were attempting to de-cypher the labels on a number of prescription bottles. Four empty 22 0z. cans of ʻWiredʼ alcoholic energy drinks were lined up in a row near the deceased who was covered by an old blanket on an old sofa. No blood, exhale.