Tuesday, May 24, 2011


There are some things I don't like to discuss
There are some things I love discussing,
and there is one thing I must discuss.

I've not wanted to do this, really.  There's a pain attached that I cannot bear bringing back to the surface.  However, In my discussions with Emily, she pointed out two things.  I need to be fully honest with my loyal readers.  It may also be cathartic for me to relive the moment.

Forgive me, gentle reader, if I become disjoined, or if I cut off suddenly, I cannot guarantee my words will hold out.

I was enjoying my day.  My good friend Adam and I are out for a drive.  He wants to go visit a game shop across town, and he is driving.  I prefer it this way,  I have always hated driving, and he's been my chauffeur for years now.  I take to the passenger seat like it was my home.  I am singing, poorly, to one of my fravorite songs.  "Epic" by Faith No More.  He wants me to shut up, but I do not.  I've got a red creme soda from White Castle in my hand.

It is pleasant.  it is familiar.  This is my life.  This is my best friend.   I have known him for twenty-five years.   We met on a school bus, in first-grade, and have been mostly inseparable since then.  I am the godfather to his child.  I gave him room and board when he lost his job.  I am his rock.  He is my inspiration.  We are brothers.

I tuck my feet beneath my seat, kicking at the bar beneath the seat, used for adjusting the seat position

my head wihps to the side, i hit the side window.  there is pain, i hurt,  light blur s i feel moved shifted, pushed up and over  i fall on my side   it hurts  i hear a noise  its a voice  i sie him next to me, he bleeds he is hurt  blood there is blod on me and it is not mine.  it is hims my brothers blood

i awake, flashing lighst everywhere i am numb, laid back on a stretcher.  there are sheets on bodies.  there is a truck, its atop a car  so much metal.

bodies, there are bodies, trhee.  there is a woman crying, she is heavy, latino  she is crying.

Call Me Nil.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Mark McLaughlin got around to asking me today about my screaming a few weeks ago.  It was unexpected, but certainly within his right.  He noticed my troubled behavior of late, and tried to get me to open up.  I was more than a shade nervous about it,  and I certainly wasn't about to explain my stalker to them.  I can hardly believe it is real myself, and I have lived it, there was no way I could convince him or his family of what I saw that night.

Instead I shrugged meekly, looked down at my waffle that he prepared for me, and simply said that I still have a few demons left to thwart.   I glanced aside at my walker, which seemed to answer the question for him.   I do not like lying.  It is a negative emotion.  I should not have done it, and yet I could not bear to be honest.  Is there some truth in lying to protect another?   It is hard enough on them, with their house's issues, without dragging a penance-seeking.....judge of some sort into it.

On the same subject of tall men in my home, I asked Lindsey if she had seen anyone 'strange' outside, and was most relieved when she said no, absently kicking her feet under her chair as she enjoyed a cup of juice.  So why had the Ashen One shown himself to her?  I suppose I was simply under the assumption that only I could see it.  I absently figured that in addition to its host of otherworldly attributes, selective invisibility would be as common as anything else.  Perhaps it does, and the innocence of a child could see past it?

I speculate on useless things, I suppose.   I wish to get within my enemy's mind.  What does it want from me?  It accuses me of horrid deeds, about being immalleable.  Have I not shown my change of heart in life, since the accident?  Have I not been open and honest?

How do I show my true self to a figure without a face?

Call Me Nil

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Shudders and Anxiety

It never occurred to me that a child could see him.
Always with the classic cliche that only those pure can see
what they aren't supposed to. 

My feelings to keep an eye on the children about, suddenly made sense.  If they could see him, what would happen?  Would they scream and run, or find him curious?  The sheer thought, of this malevolent creature being even TOUCHED by a child, has been rampaging through my mind of late.  I cannot let this happen, I cannot let him take a life, not while I can walk.  I find myself lacking in the ability, but not the dedication.  I have no concept of how to even begin warding off this ashen grey monstrosity.

Blue preserve me,  I have a child within my home, and I have his attention.

edit:  It just showed up, in my very own room, well past three.  I  I was sleeping sound, having my standard surreptitious dreams, when I dreamt of a dark shadow over me.  I awoke to find it was no dream.  The creature loomed over my bed, as if scheming.  I screamed.  It had warned me, and now it was here, ready to fulfill its horrid duty, and I hadn't gotten to do anything yet. 

It spoke as I screamed, the strange backlash from its words silenced me, sending me against the headboard, giving me a nasty welt.  "Your time nears."   Disoriented, I don't remember trying to climb out of bed, away from it, I fell upon the floor, trying to crawl away.  It was already before me, I cannot place how it moved, it simply was.  "You have been warned, yet you show no rehabilitation.  You are to be removed."

I was still staggered, its mentality overwhelmed me, words barely managed to form, "Re...habilitation?"  I managed to question.   It paused.  "What do you mean?"  I pressed.   The Ashen One was silent.  "I've done nothing but rehabilitation since my accident.  Both in body and in heart."

It uttered two painful words.  "You lie."

I cannot imagine why it would accuse me as such, I have striven..I have tried SO hard to be honest, humble and appreciative of my life, how could it not see that?

"No,"  I started, but my voice failed me.  It loomed closer,  I had antagonized it by refuting its words.   I had to buy time, I needed more information.

I cringed against the wall, nearly yelling  "Why do I see you now?"    I repeated myself before it responded, "You know why."

I hadn't seen it my entire life, just lately, and there was only one trauma that occurred to me that could have warranted this.  A near death experience.

"The accident."   I finally concluded.   It stood back up, I almost took it as a positive sign, so I continued.  "You are here because of the accident."


"And you will kill me, why?"

"Because of the accident."

Blue help me.
Call Me Nil

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Sometimes the sky opens up

Hello again, friends.
It's been a few days.

Right now it's raining outside, which would be more harmonious for me if it weren't for the fact I had some errands to run outdoors.  It's always so interesting to see how the world changes when such a natural occurrence happens.  People hustle, walking fast, they wear a myriad of bright colors,  yellow, blue, red.  They wear eclectic gear, whether they be slickers, umbrellas or hoodies.  I love the sound cars make as they drive by in the rain, sort of a hushed whisper.  Everyone hurries to get indoors, out of the rain.

I found myself grumbling at the fact that when I went to the grocery store, that it was as if everyone had forgotten common courtesy.  Five vehicles idled at the entrance, making it impassable, and then to my dismay, all the handicapped spots were taken, not one with a proper plate or sign upon it.

To be fair, I don't always take such spots myself, though I am allowed.  I do however, treasure them on days like this where I might risk slipping.  I eventually caught myself, mentally chiding myself with a laugh.  I strove to see the world as I have of late, and did so after I sought shelter in the store.

I had extra things to buy here today, for I have houseguests!  My neighbors from before,  you remember me talking about them, yes?   It took some time for the house to be evaluated, as to whether or not it was livable, and sad to say, it requires repairs before it is considered safe and up to code.   It took some time, but I managed to persuade them to accept my fine home, at least temporarily.  So this means there's a small flurry of activity here now, not just the gentle clicking footsteps of myself.

My home is two stories, it was left to me by my parents years ago.  Three bedrooms, all upstairs, one bathroom.  Ha ha, yes that will provide to be an issue eventually, but it is a welcome one.  Here I get the chance to pay kindness to the family.  Mark McLaughlin, his life partner Mitchell, and their daughter Lindsey.    They are constantly tripping over themselves to stay out of my way, or to ensure they're not making too much of an impact on my life.  I just laugh softly and assure them that they are fine.

If Lindsey watches Yo Gabba Gabba after lunch, then that's what we do now.   She's an inquisitive sort.  Fair complexion, eyes that hide behind her cheeks when she smiles, and a bit shy at times.  All in all, a sweet child to be sure.  She asked me about my feet, which was a bit hard to comprehend, so I told her I was a robot, and we laughed.  Then she asked about what I did for a living, since I live on disability, I told her robots don't need jobs.

Then she asked me about my friend out in the garden.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Always in the clouds

I heard a most wonderful quote today, my friends.

"A man is truly ethical only when he obeys the compulsion 
to help all life he is able to assist,
and shrinks from injuring anything that lives."  - Albert Schweitzer

This man knew Blue.  I'm sure that people have other names for it,  perhaps Karma, maybe even the Force, and yet this belief is so rarely practiced.  I couldn't stop smiling when I came across this quote, I found myself elicit, and wishing I had the rare honor to have met the man.  I've got much, much more to do before I feel as a successor to the philosopher, but I do feel that he would be a kindred spirit.  How I could have learned from him!

I've made it a point recently to expand my influence on the world about me.  Specifically, my neighborhood is the task at which I've charged myself.  If I am going to make a difference in anything, it is here that I must start.  Fate has no hold on me, I will not be stopped by such things.  I cannot, I have much to joy and love to share with my world.

I've started spending some time watching the playground at the park.  There's not always adults supervising the wondrous and imaginative children out there, and I do not trust in their safety with the creature about.  I have felt the need to keep close watch, to ensure no ill befalls them.  I have seen no interest, but it is a feeling I simply cannot shake.

I wandered through darkness and mazes, in a stupor, ever a puppet in another person's grand design.  Confusion filled me, even to the point of loss of self, of identity.  I reached out for names, for purpose, and found nought.  I remembered a glimpse of the past, of being with my Uncle in a car.  We were fighting zombies somewhere, and sought refuge in a medical complex.  I was given the grim task of putting him out of his misery after he was injured, and did so without ado.  I could only save who he was, not who he would be, and I did not regret it.   There were others, perhaps doctors and nurses, I know not, that were fighting to survive as well.  I fled to a bathroom, my shotgun aimed and readied at the door for whatever may give chase.

When the door did open, I hesitated.  The faces of these figures were all too human, though their forms were quite decayed.  I did not know these two men, but I knew their features well enough to place them as being Hispanic.  They stumbled forward as I could not fire.  The shamble grew more desperate as I tried to defend myself finally, producing no discharge even as I squeezed the triggers.  I was helpless, and so I died. 

Is it right or wrong to kill in the name of Blue?  If one was certainly a cancer upon the world, is it best to be rid of it, to slay the problem, or must one find an alternative?  All things are related, does this mean that his problems are mine?  Is a murderer merely the reflection of my own issues, exaggerated and personified?  If I showed him unconditional love, would he feel it, or would he shuffle me from this mortal coil?

Such questions have no easy answer,
even for I
Call Me, Nil.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Cryptic words, plain beliefs

"Visions seek out only the prepared mind."  -  Emily

I've heard this before once I think, its not a common phrase, and yet I wonder if there's any peal of truth to it anyway.

I never had any supernatural encounters before the accident, except the mysterious appearance of coinage from behind one's ear perhaps.  And yet I wonder if this is a counterweight set against my more enlightened outlook.

Dear reader, I submit that these two must not be related.  If one's search for balance and enlightenment ended up sought out for vengeance, I could not accept this world.  Even as it is, I find it hard to take the figure's words seriously, even as they bored into my skull, speaking of fate.   Fate.  I don't care for the concept.  Fate implies that your life is pre-patterned, and I find that reprehensible.  There is no chance for growth, for ecstasy, for epiphanies when fate rears its determined head.

Nevertheless I find myself under its gaze, as if the very embodiment of my nemesis takes shape against me.  Am I mocked by its tall stature, and long surely-working legs?  What if this figure is a reflection of who I am?  Perhaps this is merely an obstacle to overcome.  Surely it is, surely I am triumphant in this jaunt into the ethereal.  I suspect its involvement in my neighborhood.  A house fire broke out two doors down,  no deaths, and the home was saved, yet no cause was found.  Sadly their pet was caught in the blaze, I attended the small makeshift funeral for the animal, even as I scanned the distance for my mysterious foe.

On another note, I have started to cook a bit more recently.  I enjoy experimenting with it as such, even if cleanup is a chore sometimes, and I do tend to get winded easily.  Earlier I tried out cheddar cheese waffles, and was surprised by the crispy flavor.  I heartily endorse them to those with waffle makers.

I'm sorry, I can't continue this jovial line of thought right now.  My apologies, dear reader, for the lack of erstwhile gourmet tips.   Thoughts have been weighing on my mind as I ponder my villain.  I have said before I think he may be here to punish me.  Not who I am now, but perhaps who I was.  I was not always so cheerful and full of spirit.  Before my accident, I had a less appreciative nature of life, and while I feel it was in no way responsible for the car accident

I can't continue, forgive me.

Callme Nli.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Viewer Mail

A light gleaming above all
Illumination guaranteed
from a beautiful shade of blue.

Ask and ye shall receive, for I have gotten a few emails from you wonderful friends.  I sincerely appreciate this bold, outward action of your part, I find it has already helped cement the bonds between you and I further.  I feel that I should have done this a month prior, and yet I maintain that the proper time for this is now.  My spirits have lifted somewhat, and I have asked permission to share part of this email with the rest of you fair people.

A reader named Emily sent me a message, asking some questions of me, and while I shan't publish the message in whole, I deigned to share a few of them with you.

"Nil, what is going on with these colors in your blog?  The grey on white is very hard to read, btw."

Ahh, thank you for that advice.  I shall change the grey to a darker tone posthaste in the future.  Its an odd concept I suppose, to highlight certain words in color, but I feel they are words of significance.  Everything I have done of late, I feel as if have been influenced by two sides,  creation and destruction.  Joyous harmony and discord.  After my dream like epiphany resulting in the concept of 'Blue', I have felt the need to key people into it.  So when I speak of such things, I denote it in blue most of the time, so it is associated with the color and the belief properly.   Grey as it were, from the smoke in my dreams, to the Ashen One itself is denoted as the destructive force.   As you may see, I don't need to do such things.  I just feel that there's a visible link between beliefs, and wish to hone that bond further, if this makes sense.  Thank you.

"What are all the strange italicized stories?"

Ahh this I blame on my own efficacious, enigmatic self for not explaining away.  Dreams, mostly.  Dreams, delusions and hallucinations, most of which occurred after the accident.

"What put you into the hospital?"

I would prefer not to elaborate on this point for now.  Forgive me, some wounds run deeper than others.  I promise to disclose eventually.

She goes on to say how she supports my stand against the creature outside, among other things.  I thank her and you for your support.  You and she are truly gifts to me, dear readers.  As before, if anyone wishes to voice concerns or such, aspotofluck@gmail.com.

Until your cryptic host answers everything
and hope springs eternal.
Call Me Nil.