Earth To Stranger

Peter had had too much to drink, his opinions were like kittens he was giving them away... "It's time I let everybody know.... My favorite color is red! My head is full of dread, my thoughts have turned to knots, and if I had to make the right decision, I'd probably go left. If anybody ever counted on me, I'd probably sing the alphabet, and if you ever thought I could be someone to look up to, you'd better look down. I'm no comedian, I'm no clown, I'm just a regular person, with an alter ego that expresses his nothingness for life. A sense of release, getting drunk at night listening to old music and wishing I lived in the past. I'll never judge a book by its cover, but I sure as hell will make assumptions, and until you prove me wrong, I will stick to those precautions. I may be rambling, but that's what I like to do. When I hang out with my true friends, I sit in silence and enjoy the company, talking is completely obsolete, actions speak louder then words, and what's even better then any action in the world, is sitting in silence by someone you cherish and bask in the glorious sounds of our planet earth. People get bored easy, and don't appreciate what's important, they like loud music, and stupid sounds that come from a computer, open your ears to the sound of earths first concept of music, the crickets, the birds, the frogs, they were here long before us, their music is older then light itself. Come back down to earth, you've gone way too far!" 

Can't Find A Way Back

Peter was unsure... Unsure of his decisions, unsure of where he lived, unsure of what he believed, he wasn't sure of what he saw on a daily basis, it all felt like a dream, he was unsure of life itself.. He wasn't sure of where he was going, or what he wanted to do, he wasn't even sure of why. Peter didn't see a point in living, he saw no point in being social, he didn't want to talk to anybody or be around people. He hated everybody, but he hated himself even more. Talking was a useless human interaction, and emotions were even less useful. He soaked his bones with alcohol and let all the excess water pour out of his body. He wanted to care, he wanted to love, he wanted to make someone feel special, but he's long forgotten how to do any of that, he's spent too much time wallowing in his own pity that he's just forgotten.. Forgotten to the point where he won't even let anyone into his life to remind him what life is all about, "but honestly," he said aloud under the polluted night sky, "life is simpler this way,  I have less to worry about and it's very satisfying," little things made him happy, and big problems never bothered him, all he ever worried about we're if he had enough cigarettes and alcohol to make it through the night... And he had plenty of both. He took another sip from his cup, "solitude is bliss, forget all the outside problems, as long as I have a place to rest my head and close my eyes, maybe one of these nights I won't open them ever again!" He didn't need love, he didn't need friends, he didn't need a home or a car, God gave us feet, and I damn sure will use them!" He chuckled, there really wasn't anything funny but he just laughed at himself and how far he had gotten to being absolutely nobody in a land of nothing. 

Born To Die

A pile of hot coals laid on the ground, burning with an orange glow, consuming itself, each coal enjoying the company of its fellow brothers and sisters, all burning passionately together. Peter sat in front of the small orange light, he watched the way some parts of the pile burned hotter, brighter than the rest, then they calmed down and got back to the same glow as the rest. He watched, as over time the coals began to turn grey as a layer of ash grow on each coal, and eventually fall off. Peters father came out and began to scold him, his father kept telling him what a fool he was being, how peters decisions could be better, "do what I tell you, Peter, I'm older, stronger, wiser, I know what's good for you!" Peter listened to every single word he said, and it infuriated him, it annoyed him, it was like a mosquito buzzing in his ear, but this mosquito he could not smack away. His father continued to scour him with "wise words" and "good advice" Peter had so much to say in return, but instead he sat in silence and let this man scrub him down to the bone, Peter held in his tears, he held in all his pain, he held in all his anger, his agony, his misery, he felt no need to prove himself, because it would be no use. He sat there and let this man feed him all these "tips and tricks" to life, but Peter felt it was no use, that his father was wasting his time and energy because no matter how many times he tells Peter, he still will not learn.. As humans, the best way for us to learn is by experience, by trial and error, by disappointment, success, achievement, by seeing results... This is why Peter did not speak once, he did not try to argue.. He just watched the coals burn with the flaming passion they had, and just like the coals, he enjoyed the comfort of his burning brothers and sisters, burning and burning and burning through layers, ash growing on him until he was just a pile of cool ash, only to be sweeped away by the air. 

Time

The music played, Peter felt its immense power come above him, the sweet melody, the cool tone came above him like a cloud of dust, carrying him away to a place far away. He could hear the clock ticking and with every second that passed he could feel his body transporting into the future, second by second. He realized he was a living, breathing time machine, carrying on a forgotten culture, a self destructive civilization. "I'd like to be here, but I can't!!" He smiled at the phrase, "I'm going to find my mind, I'm going to find my sanity, I'm going to fulfill what I'm supposed to do, I will never fail," he was confident, he was sure, he finally felt.... happy. "I will not let anyone ruin this, I have found my path and I will follow it, til the end, the end of time, the end of eternity!" This was a new Peter, one that not even Peter himself could recognize, and that was a sure sign of truly finding his sanity once again.

After Words

"Death seems like the only answer," Peter thought to himself. He was truly sick of life and being alive. The thought of death was beginning to sound like a good idea, he was on the edge of madness. He could feel terror coming near, he could hear screams, see blood, fear was nearing the hearts of many. He felt controlled by a higher power that was not god, he knew something was going on, something beyond anyone's control and he didn't want to be a part of it. He couldn't drink his sorrows away, he didn't have any smoke to help him forget, the pain, the grief, the miserable feeling of loneliness was growing larger on him, it was beginning to feel heavy, unbearable, he was drowning terribly and there was nobody reaching out to save him... He wanted to lay down in his bed and never wake up, he wanted to see what was after this plain, monotonous "life" that we have been given. "Maybe I'm not going to happy place afterwards, but maybe I am, I will never find out unless I go..."

You Won't Like It

Peter would like all of you to know something... "Humanity sucks, and the direction we are heading in will lead to complete self destruction" he took a deep breath, "I'd like for all of you to know, that I hate you all, we as human beings will never keep each other satisfied, we always let each other down at some point." He was simply rambling on, annoyed, sitting alone on a bench in the parking lot, he didn't see people anymore, he saw pests, rodents, animals, killing one another to feed their own families, Peter doesn't care if you like what he says or even if you like what I write about him, he doesn't care about your interests, or what amuses you, he isn't trying to put on a show, he wants you to laugh at him and call him a sick loser freak with no friends, don't try to be his friend, "don't even try to be 'different' cause you are all alike."

Same Shit Different Day

The same spot, the same chair, the same table, the same fan, the same music, the same phone, the same room, the same dog, the same cigarettes, everything was the same, except for the day. Although nothing has changed, Peter saw everything like never before, because although it was all apparently the same, he knew it wasn't. There were particles, and cells from other people, more footsteps, more hours have been added to all the same items that still layed on the table from weeks before, days have been added to Peter's eyes, he could see them differently, weeks have been added to his ears, he could hear the sounds more distinctly, with more understanding. It was in fact the same shit, but it wasn't the same at all... Only because the days have changed it.