Keith III

Keith stood a little straighter at the mention of his job. He was a hired gun by trade, and he took pride in his work. He specialized in “retrieval” services, which mostly involved the theft of a previously stolen good, and often included a large count of bodily harm to any in his way. On rare occasion, he was asked to participate in other forms of mercenary work. Currently ranked number two in the business, he lagged behind just one person: his boss.

Kayleen giggled. “Awww, Keith, are you worried?” Keith could see her face now, the smug bitch…oh how he wished to surpass her, to be the number one mercenary on the market. People would bow to him as they passed, tributes would be paid on site, and nubile women would throw themselves at his feet!

But no. He would not have that. Not now. Now when his lively hood was dependent on the whim of his boss. Who also happened to be his lover.

The growl that rasped out of his throat was indistinguishable from that of a mountain bear. “Give. Me. My. Fscking. JOB,” he ground out, each word harsher than the last.

Kayleen tittered and cooed soothingly at Keith, her tone soft and gentle. “Baby, please, don’t worry. Leenie has it all here for you, ok? Just come home safe and whole this time,” now her voice was slightly worried. Keith brushed it off.

It wasn’t his fault he came home with a hole punched thru his shoulder a month ago. Besides, the other guy’s head was now on his trophy wall, the grotesque mutation of a snake’s skull tacked up after being stripped of the flesh. Freaking Lance-Deferes, always combing their damnable death magyks with martial arts. Nothing cured a Lance-Defere like decapitation though. Shame they never new before they were dead.

“I hadn’t planned on it,” he began in his normal tone, “But now, I think I’ll let whatever fell beastie awaits me to slice me to ribbons.” He grinned to himself, satisfied in his assholery. He wasn’t prepared for the choked sob that came back through the phone.

“Ho-ho-ho-how c-c-could you say that?!” Kayleen was beyond upset. “How co-could you joke about something like that?”

The lump in Keith’s throat was uncharacteristic, to say the least. His utter confusion at Kayleen’s worry shone through with his next sentence. “Leenie…I…I was just kidding,” he couldn’t believe his ears when she bawled openly into the phone at that. Now he knew something was definitely wrong. Kayleen was not a girly girl. Hell, most times she was hardly a girl. As far as he knew, he was her first lover.

“Leenie, what’s wrong,” came the hushed question.

Kayleen coughed and laughed a little. “Well, you dope, there’s a reason I want you home safe and whole. Or should I say we?” 

Keith II

Keith sighed under his breath, rolled his amber eyes, and half-grinned. "Kayleen, get to the point please? I just slaughtered..." he paused to look over the scene around him once more, "thirty-odd men and boys, all of which were vying for the chance to rescue this chick from the horrible fate which seems to befall all young maidens in towers." Here he gnashed his teeth violently and his toned grew irked. "So, if it is possible for you to skip the niceties for once, then please, by all means skip them and tell my WHY I am here?" 

The voice remained silent for a while, then a while longer. Keith almost hung up when the voice spoke up once more. "I um...I'm sorry for not giving you the purpose of this mission before hand, Keith. I was instructed not to unless it was certain you would be the one left standing to complete the job." The keen of metal sliding 'cross metal stood out. "Since you have picked up your phone, and reported the death of those 'thirty-odd men and boys', it is now safe to assume that you will complete your task and retrieve that which you were sent for."

Keith

Keith looked upon the mighty tower standing before him and couldn’t help but touch the pendant on his neckchain nervously. Surely he was the one most suited to this challenge, defeating and destroying all the competition before him. 

He looked around at the battlefield on which he stood, the bodies of his foes and competitors strewn about. Some of them looked almost peaceful, with smiles on their faces and their bodies carefully laid down as if they were sleeping; others were close to being in pieces, the limbs and torsos, even some heads, just hanging by a mere flap of skin or a few unbroken tendons, their bodies violated and savagely ripped. 

The latter set of bodies looked so ravaged, it was almost as though several large animals had torn into them and tugged until satisfied. The skies above Keith were clouded with ravens, the raucous cries accompanied by the artificially mixed and high-pitched ringing from Keith's pocket. 

"Hello," Keith's uncharacteristically deep voice answered in a bored tone.

"Ah, Keith," the voice came out squeaky and small through the reciever. "Glad to hear you're still alive, my friend."

"Mm," was all that came out of his mouth.

"Aaaiya....so cold, eh, Keith," the tiny voice responded jovially. "Well, I guess it can't be helped, what with sending you on these insane missions all the time. I mean, c'mon, defeating a veritable horde of men so as to save one measly life?" The voice paused, and giggled. "That might be a bit much for me to give you now, no?"

At 5:57 AM, everything is funny

Sad fact of life. I just laughed at the obituaries, Dylan's hokey Wisconsin accent, and the blood currently trickling out of a recently re-opened scab. Might be a bad sign, but honestly, it's six o'fucking-clock in the morning on a Wednesday. I don't give a DAMN what anyone else might say, I can stay up this late and be ok...after mass amounts of coffee, tea, redbull and monster. 

If I hadn't had to work on a philosophy paper, this would never have happened, but as it stands, I'll be up for over 24 hours, for the second time in a week, because of school. So i blame not myself nor Dylan, but classes. Bitchy as that may seem, I'm to wired by my body's unwillingness to sleep to notice. Honestly, giving students a week to write an 18-20 hundred word essay on the topic of voluntary active euthanasia, and expecting them to do it before the 24-mark is just crazy. Asking that of college students is like having them sign over their sleeping permit for two days. Just shouldn't be done. 

But enough of the whining. I have finished my essay and shall now wait for the food hall to be open at 7 AM, in hopes of procuring breakfast for myself and Dylan. I'll just let my decompression from this happen at my Aunt's house this weekend. It's a nice thing to have family close by. Especially if one has never been away from home for times beyond about two weeks. Very good for the mental health to keep oneself healthy and sane. Should probably do so more. 

Nothing of note to note here...wow, what a useless statement...

hey.

to all my trusty reader out there, thank you for the reminder to update.

I've got nothing of note to report here, so it'll be rather boring as a piece of poetry or fiction. Mind you, this will also be the piece, or one of the pieces, i use to apply to the Creative Writing Program here at University of Miami.

I've narrowed down my choices for the fiction track to option 

http://www.as.miami.edu/english/creativewriting/undergraduate/admissions)

Smokes. Rick walks into CVS with one thing on his mind. Smokes. Camels, Malborros, Newports, Cobra, Memphis, Rick needs anything, something, just to get the nicotine fix his body craves. The freezing Brooklyn air curls around him, probing his coat, looking for an opening to wreak havoc. The December night is harshly cold and crisp, and every inch of skin left out feels like ice. The biting scent of burning wood is the only redeeming quality of the night. The door opens with that annoying chime, and Rick walks to the counter, the soft sound of his boots on the tiles the only noise in the store. He opens his mouth, his teeth chattering, the sound jarring like bones, he utters two words. "Smokes. NOW." The lady behind the counter looks at him, her jaw down in disbelief at the attitude rolling off him in waves. She looks behind her, the manicured nails reaching to the familiar spot where the cheapest packs can be found, only to find... its empty. She looks closer. Then her eyes widen in shock and her hands fly over each empty compartment. She turns back to Rick, her eyes fearful and her voice meek. "I'm...I'm sorry sir, we don't have any more smokes. We're out."

bored, feeling poet-y

I Love You.

3 small words,

8 letters,

2 spaces,

3 syllables:

I Love You.

I just don't seem able

to bring myself to say it.

I love you.

The thought of saying "I love you"

out loud kind of frightens me...

And I've tried to say it in 

different languages, but you think Japanese is to rough

and my French and Spanish are terrible.

I

LOVE

YOU

As a man, I just can't consciously say it aloud.

But perhaps...

I can whisper those words in your 

ear as I hold you close to me,

Maybe

In between you nibbling my lip and

my tongue becoming acquainted with yours once more

Its possible

I can moan them out while your

teeth, lips and tongue suck, nibble, bite and break

the skin of my neck

I know I can

breathe them into you while I enjoy 

your honey-sweet taste and you

buckle under my mouth's assault...

Maybe then I can say "I love you" out loud.

Post ONE!

so hi. I'm Sonny. I'm 18, an undergrad student at the University of Miami, freshman, thinking about switching from an English major to an Anthropology major, might try to minor in Chinese.

This is the first time I've ever blogged, so I feel obligated to say that, honestly, I have no idea what the hell I am doing. I mainly picked this up because I have to much free time and nothing to do, and because it seems like a good way to get my energies out when I have no other outlets. So please, just bear with me while i figure out the basics of this system and all that. Oh, um...I have a tendency to curse a lot, as well as to ramble ceaselessly on about nothing and everything, as well as get graphic or dirty if I am so inclined, so if those types of things bother you, you should probably not read this.

I might start putting up bits and pieces of stories later on to get a general review of it by people who are like me and have to much free time or not enough to do with themselves, so its greatly appreciated if you do comment on the work. However, people who feel it is their right to completely shoot down or devalue my work just because they can, go fuck yourselves right now, cause I really don't want to put up with that shit. 

Anyway, thats all for now. I'll probably post something either later today or tomorrow, but don't hold your breath, I'm just as likely to forget i have this as I am to use it a lot.

Peace,

Sonny