Everything is becoming mundane, routine, explored; Known. Life changed from an interactive Experience where Ingenuity and Wit forged the way to repeatedly referencing a Knowledge Base to find the correct Answer that somone's already given ( Read more... )

Three poorly-dressed young men follwed me. They had The Look of methamphetamine abuse gutting their cheeks. Whispered Discussion of me bounced back and forth between the Trio, whose eyes wouldn't leave me. In the pursuit, there were more Utterings of my Name from others, clearly audible over the inordinate Music. Some were accusational, which ( Read more... )

only steps from the front door of the bar the car door opened with just a touch and started as soon as the key hit the ignition ( Read more... )

Apparently, a hammer had hit me in the head somewhere. My eyes were beating in my skull. "How did you do that with the cops?" I asked ( Read more... )

The thick smell of salt filled the bathroom. My eyes and lungs burned exceptionally in my newfound awareness. A tinny version of the sound of running water reverberated like bad treble settings crossing feeble equipment polluting a hardfloor. Leaning on the wall with its pipe half-cocked, the urinal groaned. "It's a conflagration," came the ( Read more... )

It must've been 8 or 9 in the morning. Shuffling legs inched my closed eyes toward the sound of the bartender. Seeing was no problem. Everything sounded like a dirty record; scratchy, lacking fullness. Life had become a movie being played back to me that I wasn't entirely interested in. The film was scratched by the dirt it rolled across. It was ( Read more... )

"Ha ha ha. Normally I wouldn't say nothin', but that there was funny," said the wheelchaired man behind me ( Read more... )

Brenton and I sat in the front-right corner of the dining side of The Top, our favorite restaurant here in Gainesville. Two double Bombay Sapphire and tonics into things, the conversation turned its magnifying lens to women, as it does all too often ( Read more... )

A light Rain fell from the sky. Once the Cherokee had started, windshield wipers cleared way for the rising Feeling of Being Watched. She looked truly out of Place. It was her age, a grossly finite Number still beyond comprehension, the Pale skin reminiscent of a spring roll in dire need of peanut sauce, every Vein varicose, adding to the thought ( Read more... )

I'm changing my name to McCock; Hawk McCock. Hawk Klaus McCock, Jr., to be most precise. When you address me, you address me as "Hawk McCock" and never just "Hawk". That's just the way it is these days.

I haven't looked at LiveJournal in forever. I live, but hardly.

x&o
Hawk Motherfucking Klaus McCock, Jr.