Post by Chase Kenneth Bryant on Aug 20, 2012 23:24:23 GMT -7
chase k. bryant
24. MALE. SHIFTER. STRAIGHT.
I'm a good neighbor. A good citizen. I pay my taxes. I work every day. I rent an apartment. I help out when people ask. I call my parents once a week. Try to go visit once a month. I'm a good guy. A normal guy. I fly under the radar, I don't have many friends. Had a couple relationships, found them more troublesome than they're worth. I'm normal. That's the goal. That's how it's always worked in my family. You act normal, you are normal. Don't draw attention to yourself. Be incredibly ordinary. And most importantly, you never stray from the pack. You never leave the pack. You never leave your family. Me and my sisters, we never asked why, mama and pop never told us either, it went ignored what it means if you strayed from the back.
But it's not all sunshine and roses in the loner life of myself. It's not all sitting down with a cold beer, watching a House M.D. re-run or maybe having a smoke if the day was a little to stressful for me to handle (I don't make it a habit but to be fair mama didn't used to either, now any room she leaves smells like smoke for days- or maybe that's just the nose), sometimes it's bad. I can't handle being normal, supressing myself. My nature. My instinct. Have you ever ignored a thought for a long time? It's easy at first, it doesn't bother you. But over time some days are a little harder than others, you can hear it whispering. You can't make out what it's saying, it's to quiet but you know what it is. You know it's there. And then one day it's just to much to handle, right? Have you ever felt like that? Multiple it over and over, until it's not just blocking out a thought or a nagging idea anymore, like you're repressing a part of yourself. Like telling yourself not to have anxiety or depression. It comes out eventually. It rips through you, it tears apart your skin angrily. Sometimes so bad I just have to throw out my sheets because there are just some stains you can't get out. It bares it's teeth, growls, howls at the moon. Not like them, not like the wolves from the beginning. Still so primal on the inside, instinctual. The feel of a dear's bone snapping beneath my teeth and copper red blood fills my mouth, bright and white darting and sleuthing from hiding place to hiding place. Hunting it's prey. I can't let it do that. I unplug everything. I lock the windows. I bar the windows. No chance of escape. With an apartment full of old deaf women and junkies, the sounds go unnoticed as I let it take over. I let the days happen, I feel the changes and I take it.
And then I'm normal. It's back to normal. This is how I do it. I do it just like mama did, I'm a mama's boy. The only boy. The middle of 8 sisters, her baby boy. The only boy. I look like her. I talk like her. Pop hates it, I can see it in his eyes, always wished for a son more like him, more like some of his daughters. Who saw a gift in the primal wolf and not a curse..
But it's not all sunshine and roses in the loner life of myself. It's not all sitting down with a cold beer, watching a House M.D. re-run or maybe having a smoke if the day was a little to stressful for me to handle (I don't make it a habit but to be fair mama didn't used to either, now any room she leaves smells like smoke for days- or maybe that's just the nose), sometimes it's bad. I can't handle being normal, supressing myself. My nature. My instinct. Have you ever ignored a thought for a long time? It's easy at first, it doesn't bother you. But over time some days are a little harder than others, you can hear it whispering. You can't make out what it's saying, it's to quiet but you know what it is. You know it's there. And then one day it's just to much to handle, right? Have you ever felt like that? Multiple it over and over, until it's not just blocking out a thought or a nagging idea anymore, like you're repressing a part of yourself. Like telling yourself not to have anxiety or depression. It comes out eventually. It rips through you, it tears apart your skin angrily. Sometimes so bad I just have to throw out my sheets because there are just some stains you can't get out. It bares it's teeth, growls, howls at the moon. Not like them, not like the wolves from the beginning. Still so primal on the inside, instinctual. The feel of a dear's bone snapping beneath my teeth and copper red blood fills my mouth, bright and white darting and sleuthing from hiding place to hiding place. Hunting it's prey. I can't let it do that. I unplug everything. I lock the windows. I bar the windows. No chance of escape. With an apartment full of old deaf women and junkies, the sounds go unnoticed as I let it take over. I let the days happen, I feel the changes and I take it.
And then I'm normal. It's back to normal. This is how I do it. I do it just like mama did, I'm a mama's boy. The only boy. The middle of 8 sisters, her baby boy. The only boy. I look like her. I talk like her. Pop hates it, I can see it in his eyes, always wished for a son more like him, more like some of his daughters. Who saw a gift in the primal wolf and not a curse..
BEE - ADMIN EDIT - CAM GIGANDET.
