SECURITY
The views expressed in this tall tale are the opinions of the pseudoscientific, fanatical author, and should not be practiced by any rational person of sound mind. Reader's discretion is advised.
“An idea offered by a man in black, that's what I have been sitting here pondering. I have often repeated when a child's born they need protection, a concept hardly ever afforded me on a terrestrial experience. Can you know a thing with no experience? Protection, what does it mean to you? I mean personally, if you think on it?” She pondered. I could only guess, she would define the concept the same way I have listened to many woman vision this idea. Very little heroes now a days, is it really all that different in the minds of men?
“Well being held in strong arms leaves a warm feeling in the body.” This was a pleasantly, distracting thought.
“I wouldn't know. She's been so long since I have been surrounded by somebody bigger. Then the whole time I would be worried the woman would be calling me a pussy through it all, couldn't relax. I once cradled a woman, occasionally sold on the street by her babies father. I could feel the pain ooze as I rock her in my lap. Irony, these same wounds left her resenting me for it.” Smiling, she closed her eyes, movement under lids, sonic ideas sounding softly past a tongue parting lips revealing liberation imagined. Then her focus returned, eyes tense, touched slightly disturbed.
“Man that must of felt magnificent, would you hold me” I sighed.
“Resentment is an ugly lingering emotion don't you agree? Wouldn't it swell in you knowing it was an intimate experience I shared with another?”
“Wow, your like super suspicious aren't you, resentment is the domain of weak people. It can become all encompassing if you let it fester. We all need to find sanctuary when we can. By the sounds of it I don't think I have to tell you, most of the bullshit we are fed has the purpose of corrupting our constitution. I can accept that you have lived. I don't understand why was she resentful?”
“I can only guess, you know, in the things she said, her history and what not. She worried I had infantile fantasy. It was an uncommon gesture. I am all the way queer when it comes to stereotypes. She simply misinterpreted my healing intention, while living with the enemy. Oh, the human waste water I swim.” I sighed looking to my shoes, trying to stop a shiver of ugly memories wash through my mood.
“Can I cradle you?” A smile flushed forth obvious, absorbing warmth, eyes shutting momentarily envisions of solitary squeezed and she repeated, “Can you know a thing without experiencing it? I wouldn't think of you less. Let us experience the strength you feel after a healing embrace.”
“Protection, can holding somebody tight be a form of it? My brother complained of his son being crazy, to which I dismissed as teenage rebellion. I have heard the little shit state as much, 'It's my right as a teenager'. It is hard raising children, and my life was a wash with constant chaos, and I live with the guilt of this moment. Just another wound he internalized, feeling once again his ideas were being insensitively disregarded. He just said, 'Man you don't understand'.
“You don't have any children.” I smiled in her revelation as I shook my head.
“If I had more empathy, I could have protected him from pain in my silence. If I had only just shut my mouth. He was having issues, but that didn't stop my careless disregard, being impatient for no reason.
“You miss him.” Eyes intense, they found her own. She is smart.
“I do. Immensely.” I shook my head. “I know how to shear my online privacy from all prying eyes but that would turn my ass into some kinda James Bond motherfucker.” She eases away from me slightly on the bench. “I remember ages ago in a time before the internet, a store front selling spy equipment in the upper crust part of town.” I laughed. “I mean, she was out of place among all the bistros and high end furniture galleries. Oh so totally ghetto for the such prime real estate. I remember saying what the fuck out loud. But I am not going to lie, I was intrigued with what was inside. I don't think the numbers are correct, claimed on Wikipedia, with regards to woman and voyeurism.” She crossed her legs and her arms followed. “I didn't go in.”
“Voyeurism?”
“I think it's way more popular then people admit. Just another unspoken world everybody indulges. I mean, have you ever read another person's diary?” She licked her lips.
“I would read yours, but that is an invasion of privacy.” I smiled and wondered if I looked quizzical. Did she answer my question?
“But you would read mine?” She winked.
“I don't know, are you as you seem?”
“How do I seem?”
“A well of unbelievable experience?”
“Sheet, I live it and I don't believe it. It seems to be a many varied and all compacting subject. The idea seems like luxury I'm a super private person but she's always been allusive. What if I read your own? How would that make you feel?” She sat up straight, cracking her neck with a side to side motion, looking all serious.
“My secrets are just that, mine. I don't keep a record of them. You won't find a diary of mine hidden away under my bed.” She flipped her bottom lip inside baring teeth.
“What about your phone?” I could feel a shit eating grin on the rise. She paused, eased her posture.
“What about it?”
“Would you be mad if I was in it without you knowing?” She reach into her back pocket and placed it on the bench and slid it over.
“What?” I asked, looking down at it, in its no case nakedness.
“Go ahead it isn't locked.” The slide was returned. She smiled. “So you want to discuss privacy over intimacy?” Her head found tile with a bounce that sounded painful. She didn't react.
“No ma'am, I am on the ponder of the idea of protection.” She took a breath deep inside.
“I want to protect you.”
“You, want to protect me? You are unlike any woman I have met before. So, is it to be us to the future, with each other at are backs? People just want to tear love apart you know?” She stopped, considering. “I first noticed this sitting in a Cuban restaurant out west with this big, beautiful, young woman. She was stunning. Together we drew all the attention. You could feel the malice in everybody's intention, but they couldn't stop themselves from interrupting our togetherness.” I stopped to consider, “Right, not the first time but, it was with this woman, this idea was solidified as one of life's ugly truths. How do you protect love, hide it away?”
“You like collecting the evil eyes do you? I hear spitting is good for combating that. That and the colour blue, hand emblems, profanity.”
“Do you really believe in curses?” She relaxed, weighted elbows finding knees, as she pondered.
“I don't know? It is one of those ideas that circle. You take a child who is told the are so beautiful from the time they can remember, does that instill confidence or arrogance? Shallow egotism can cause a person to suffer self induces hostility from others, That's like a curse is it not, being insufferable? Then, there is the idea from Mz. DiFranco where people harbour a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room. If envious thoughts is all it takes to cast black magic on a person, Instagram culture is fucked.” I laughed.
“Signify a fake life, to be an influencer of demi gods who load your soul with psychic weight. In this day and age how many people exercise their spirit?”
“Do you believe in the supernatural?” Her lips puckered and she made with spooky hands.
“I have demons chasing me. As a child I was struck with night terrors that seemed to last forever. Plagued by different styles of reoccurring dreams, they had me fearing slumber, being jolted awake so many times following the course of the travelling moon. New age gurus and loads of folklore claim fear makes for a door way, you know, an entrance for hungry ghosts and lost souls. So there's that. I would say yes. How do you protect against invisible enemies in other dimensions? We don't need protection from animals any more we've killed them all.” She snickered,
“Oh my god, exaggerate much? Am I going to have to cut all the stories you tell me down by half?” I laughed.
“She's probably a good idea, or maybe I speak of the future. It ain't hard to tell. How many years is there left on our little path of destruction? 2050 sounds as if it is the year she's all going to come crashing to a bitter end. . .or there abouts. The longer we hangout in space you know like outside of our atmosphere , according to Anton Petrov from the WHAT THE MATH? youTube channel, the body likes none of it, starts to do us physiological dangers. According to his research a quick evacuation is not looking good. Do you think that is enough time to start a colony on Mars? I mean 50 years human's have kill 75 percent of animals with back bones. We can get our shit together when it comes to evil schemes.
“Three quarters of all the animals with backbones dead, where did you get that number from?”
“Some Indian bosozoku guru off of youtube,” She shook her head and repeated my words with a furrowed brow. I smiled waiting for questions that did come. “It's not as if there is only one crisis to set extinction on man, but many, and nobody cares. We are all screaming fuck the world. Way too preoccupied by fake hearts lighting to red, and what we're going to look like in a world that isn't. What is going to protect us from industrial parasites the likes, after rare minerals under the ocean floor?”
“We are all Nuaru.” Surprised, I smiled growing warm and winking at her all autonomic. “Yes ma'am she's my world's crystal ball predicting the undeniable future of the planet. In this little Island microcosm future reveals the fate if man's intention, if we remain financially obsessed. They are looking to sign off on deep sea mining, ain't that some shit?”
“No man's an Island.” I kissed my teeth,
“Is that right?” She gave me a side eye.
“The island as in the planet, phosphorous all of the planets resources, and the result: affects of greedy human designs. Just think how many times this cycle repeats over and over in any industry.”
“I hear you, I hear you, now with brainwashing gone nuclear. Chevron is slow on the media uptake. The Irving Family of petroleum products is one of the few Canadian companies profit from the free trade deal of the 80's and man did US oil lawyers piss and moan over unjust competition. They bought out media interest decades ago. It's and old story, control what you feed to the peoples minds. The majority of them will try and control the rebel rousers. I knew this before I was old enough to vote so, how is this fact slipping all these so called investigative minds? New bosses are just the old bosses, spouting off the same lame ass propaganda from there old news paper rooms. I mean, is war really what the world needs right now, on top of everything? It was NATO's crowding Russia that solidified Mr. Putin's power in the first place, and here they are at it again. If it is true, that the children are so absolutely cognitively weak, they can't cope with seeing people in masks without having a psychotic break, taking into consideration the systematic erosion of empathy and ethics over my life time, I would say it is more of a reflection to the skills in parenting. To shield offspring from the cruel and decaying realities, of the world they are relinquishing into there care, seems to be a path of destruction, or some sick form of sacrifice.” She snorted , giving me strange looks.
“Soul sacrifice, you know what screams louder then that to shitty parenting? Teenagers not wanting to go to do any school work. Imagine your parents feeding you with the excuse to spend the day playing Fortnite instead of doing algebra. You don't even have to con you mom and dad into thinking 'I'm not feeling well' with fake sniffles and a few fur ball hacks. New media, now all eyes are interested, not only the nerds, is just the new tool of control. Just like television was.” I went into a Who scat attack.
“Of course, first impressions this man in black left, lead me to think on the invasion of tech, being his field, which makes me think about defence for space of the mind. All of this faith a reliance in programs and algorithms, not learning from the passed forgetting, these technological innovations never work. Well not the ones designed for your security. No the malicious ones man, proliferate and exceed all expectations. Ccleaner never erased your tracks, VPN secures you from nothing. Avast sells your data and I have no choice now, it is on my phone automatic. Privacy is a human right, but in the 21st century, human rights don't mean a fucking thing in the eyes of all governments, looking to dissolve every one of them. Trying to make an enemy out of every living soul, when we the people, all want the same things, if we would just wake up from being mesmerized. Atlas majority are running into their slavery willingly, kicking and screaming at you, trying to force you to follow. Remember when the mind was a terrible thing to waste? Woke minions demanding the silence of everything they disagree with, man I said it before and I will say it again, a reactionary motherfucker is an easily manipulated cock sucker. These pawns think you are setting the stage for revolutionary change, but they have been suckered into leading the path of there own distraction, forgetting the revolving door of the two party system. The writing is on the wall man, both parties advocate book burning in the traditional and cyber aged styles. Have you read some of the titles on the Krause look list? The woke motivations they are trying to enforce, are the intended movements of their enemies. Imagine, being categorized a terrorist, for wanting to protect the sovereignty of your child's mind.”
Ah shit, you are talking about protecting the mind? Cognitive liberty? Man, I am so following you now.”
“Should it not be priority one, in modern times? I wonder how many people are concerned for their most valuable propriety. We all should be worrying about how truly free we are. To think what we believe, never mind what we say. Shit people need to just stop talking. Shit posting is that even talking? The assault to dim the lights in your eyes is constant, and the attacks are from all sides. After all is said, with the back peddling starting, do you thing the citizens of the world have learned their lesson, I mean after being held hostage for a few years? Constantly lied to, fed contradiction daily, I hear people complain, 'I did what I was told to do, god damn it, isn't that what I'm supposed to do'. Silly fuckers. I would have guess nobody has learned a thing.”
“I am super toking the thought process your blowing.” Again I laughed. “No way to change direction, with all minds jacked on dopamine, locked below baseline from over stimulation, but that is a story already told. No to mention the brainwashing abound. How do you protect a mind from governmental voyeurism? Everybody is so addicted to their phones?”
“Keep it out of the hands of children needs to be a thing but, as if.”
“So much for protecting the children.”
“I chose to be a Luddite, do you think that is a dangerous prospect in the 21st century? Playing around in an unknown space where there are obstacles everywheres? Do you think the Canadian secret service stands on mandating protection?”
“Do you mean does it protect government and industry, over its citizens?” I smiled, she was stealing the words from straight out my mind.
“Exactly, damn.” I sighed in admiration. “Yes, will they protect the rights of the people from the malicious intent of infiltrating power?” We both shared joyless laughter.
“That is just not the way of the world.” We sat quiet for a time. Her eyes never leaving mine, avoiding. “Keep us fat and stupid, locked in a 300 square foot box, scared of the air outside and each other. Playing sims, with cryptocash. We are all on the cusp of dangerous times. Why won't anybody see trough all the lies, are we just going to ignore it? The truth. All the propaganda is falling apart, just in time for the call to war against all who contest. I think there was prophecy of a corporate wet dream, in Reggie Watts sporting a full faced, filtered helmet, just add oxygen and charge a fee.”
“Fucking evil action plans. I imagine somebody has thunk it. Normalizing mask mandates. Crazy I know but, such are the times. What was it that Michel Parks said in the hospital, to son number one, in the Quinton's styled, V8 rendition of TWO LANE BLACK TOP? Fuck I love those movies.” She just smiled and continued,
“So what do you do to protect your spirit?”
“I don't want to hurt anybody.”
“Well that is something, but I'm not speaking of a heavenly kind of way. You spoke of demons?”
“Now that is secret ways, that can't be proven by science, and hard to uncover. A long long life ago I was playing Capoeira in the dark”, I chuckled, “and was amazed how magical it was.”
“The fight like dance? Again that is not what I mean. That is physical protection, in how it makes you agile and flexible. Forging a body strong in heart and lungs. The body takes maintenance, and sure, it carves that effectively.” I considered her own, as often as could because she was super fit.
“Do you play come now, vamos embora.” From off of the bench, I twisted into a cartwheel. Long legs spread length ways low, a knee bent beneath my head, opposite hand by my face, bouncing off of the heal of the rear foot in bow movement, limbs changed positions.
“Sit down you crazy fucker.” She looked about to see what attention I was attracting. “No I dated a feller though.” I sat quick in the same style and shut my mouth. Shoving her with my ass in a landing slide. The feeling that particular piece if information left, no sir, I didn't like it a bit. “I have lived”,
“I know I know” I interrupted, “What will ever protect a heart from jealous corrosion?”
“Devotion.”
“What the hell is that? That's like hypnotizing chickens eh? Yeah, I haven't seen a whole lot of that in my time. Spiritual protection you say? Sure health is super imperative and well neglected, especially by the youth, but I'm not talking about the physicality when playing in the circle. The more people clapping and singing, the stronger the hits on the berimbau and the drums commanding the game, they seemed to energize who ever's face to face in the circle. One could play longer and harder. Do you think there is magic in the music? I believe there is magic in the music. Say it, I can see you have words on the tip of your tongue you are refusing to free. Are they about buddy Capoeira?”
“I once wanted to visit and art exhibit in Ottawa call MUSIC IS THE WAY I PRAY. That was years ago. I don't want to make you jealous.”
“Yeah yeah you are all right. I am tougher then I look.” Her eye's considered.
“He used to always say 'the gods couldn't resist the bells'.”
“The Ago ago. Yes it's true.”
“And he used to say 'we broke a string, the gods were happy'. Do you ever do any energy work?”
“What you mean like hippy shit?” I smiled really big, fluttering lashes.
“Yes I suppose so. But I would say more Indian philosophy.”
“Oh my god you aren't fucking into yoga are you?” I licked my lips again, with a body in contemplation. Her smile disappeared, sitting with her back against the wall. Legs and arms linking again.
“I'm just kidding I do yoga too, of course not as much as I should. Now there is a lost world of knowledge that nobody remembers.”
“Jackass, so would you consider that protection for the mind, body or soul?” I laughed at her again, winking.”
“Cosmically you patchouli braiding, beat freak I would say yes to all three, the holy trinity hahah or is it? Is the holy trinity the domain of the mind?”
“I am so a beat junkie. What do you mean?”
“You're the hippy you tell me.” She slapped my thigh. “Do you think the soul has been drained from electronic music with the ease of it's creation. Is soul being drained from all artistic expression?
“There is some school of though that music has continuously regressed in complexity over the last few centuries, but I still love a hard driving house rhythm.”
“That is not what I mean. The heart of hip hop was laid out on an Roland 808 clicking buttons. Transistors pulling all the heavy lifting. There is the absence of the tens of thousands of hours on a snare and cowbell.”
“No blood, no sweat and no tears. Hours spent in the land of frustration, trying to learn a thing is missing.”
“Blood, currency of the gods some say. Watch you, she's crafty. That is another thing. Where do you find protection from the humiliation when an individual charts a map in the route to music land, in this world of subscribing to the currency of likes? How many children have stopped singing because some evil fucker grimaced and complained they sucked?”
“I love singers, the voice is an instrument just like all the others and needs to be exercised.”
“Do you sing?”
“NO.” She cut me off really fast. She really was a quick study. She knew I would ask her for a tune.
“This is what I am talking about.” The quality of her timber was sexy smoke. A nice surprise when I first heard it thinking 'a voice made for singing', I would press this further, but later.
“There are many was of spinning the wheels, chakras, and music is one of them.” She bit her bottom lip, and I just held my look all toothy smiles.
“What do you mean?” I licked my lips, fantasizing on her own maintaining a long deep swaying note with a slight rock of her head.
“Whatever you are thinking, stop.”
“No way baby.” Her eyes narrowed on mine, centring on her uncomfortable grin.
“It is believed the earth has different energy centers, there are colours that represent their meanings, they govern parts of the body, they have exercises to energize their essence. The waves, different instruments rock, specific wheels clear.”
“Get out, there is like 108 chakras, isn't there? Which instruments for which ones?” Elbows found knees again. Eyes sharp in mine, despite a crooked neck as she relayed slow,
“Seven, starting at the base, what do you think makes that wheel spin brighter? Why did you say that number?” She licked her lips raising a fist to her chin.
“It is one of those magic numbers, is it not? Come now, that's easy. Its the drums. Rhythm's music's foundation. Please just tell me the rest.” The short smile and a single head slide, from side to side, didn't feel pleasing.
“Brass is next, a sax, strings, flute, crystal bowl, and my favourite is last ending on top with voice.”
“But how and where do the chakras line up? I got the base, what is the last one head.” Again with the single negative head gesture.
“No sir, for that you have do your own research.”
“Listen man, isn't messing with supernatural concepts dangerous? Shouldn't you be advising me?” She smiled,
“I'm not your guru. This is all hippy shit remember, what's the worst that could happen?” Fuck what did I say that has me tasting toe jam?
“I was joking girl, you smell like strawberries not patchouli. I love strawberries.” I reach over and touched elbow and a knee. She spun on the bench. Facing my side profile. She grabbed my face with both hands, focusing me to her, which released my body limp to her touch, eyes penetrating from my lips to eyes and back for what seemed a long while. I sighed as she slowly advanced to surround my bottom lip in between her own. Inside, butterflies exploded finding the limits of our personal boundaries that formed in our meeting, protecting us from the distraction of outside world, as she held, looking straight into my eyes, her tongue gently tracing perimeters. I didn't want it to end but it did.
“In my pocket I have a bottle of the love drug, let us find sanctuary and yoga our souls forever in the blood sibling ritual from that movie called NATURAL BORN KILLERS.” There was no smile in her constitution. Only a serious determination. I wanted to say of how my brother corrected my childhood rendition of pin pricked, blood brother, finger rituals, clearly displayed in the cartoon matrimony scene on that bridge, but all I said was,
“Take me baby I'm yours.”“An idea offered by a man in black, that's what I have been sitting here pondering. I have often repeated when a child's born they need protection, a concept hardly ever afforded me on a terrestrial experience. Can you know a thing with no experience? Protection, what does it mean to you? I mean personally, if you think on it?” She pondered. I could only guess, she would define the concept the same way I have listened to many woman vision this idea. Very little heroes now a days, is it really all that different in the minds of men?
“Well being held in strong arms leaves a warm feeling in the body.” This was a pleasantly, distracting thought.
“I wouldn't know. She's been so long since I have been surrounded by somebody bigger. Then the whole time I would be worried the woman would be calling me a pussy through it all, couldn't relax. I once cradled a woman, occasionally sold on the street by her babies father. I could feel the pain ooze as I rock her in my lap. Irony, these same wounds left her resenting me for it.” Smiling, she closed her eyes, movement under lids, sonic ideas sounding softly past a tongue parting lips revealing liberation imagined. Then her focus returned, eyes tense, touched slightly disturbed.
“Man that must of felt magnificent, would you hold me” I sighed.
“Resentment is an ugly lingering emotion don't you agree? Wouldn't it swell in you knowing it was an intimate experience I shared with another?”
“Wow, your like super suspicious aren't you, resentment is the domain of weak people. It can become all encompassing if you let it fester. We all need to find sanctuary when we can. By the sounds of it I don't think I have to tell you, most of the bullshit we are fed has the purpose of corrupting our constitution. I can accept that you have lived. I don't understand why was she resentful?”
“I can only guess, you know, in the things she said, her history and what not. She worried I had infantile fantasy. It was an uncommon gesture. I am all the way queer when it comes to stereotypes. She simply misinterpreted my healing intention, while living with the enemy. Oh, the human waste water I swim.” I sighed looking to my shoes, trying to stop a shiver of ugly memories wash through my mood.
“Can I cradle you?” A smile flushed forth obvious, absorbing warmth, eyes shutting momentarily envisions of solitary squeezed and she repeated, “Can you know a thing without experiencing it? I wouldn't think of you less. Let us experience the strength you feel after a healing embrace.”
“Protection, can holding somebody tight be a form of it? My brother complained of his son being crazy, to which I dismissed as teenage rebellion. I have heard the little shit state as much, 'It's my right as a teenager'. It is hard raising children, and my life was a wash with constant chaos, and I live with the guilt of this moment. Just another wound he internalized, feeling once again his ideas were being insensitively disregarded. He just said, 'Man you don't understand'.
“You don't have any children.” I smiled in her revelation as I shook my head.
“If I had more empathy, I could have protected him from pain in my silence. If I had only just shut my mouth. He was having issues, but that didn't stop my careless disregard, being impatient for no reason.
“You miss him.” Eyes intense, they found her own. She is smart.
“I do. Immensely.” I shook my head. “I know how to shear my online privacy from all prying eyes but that would turn my ass into some kinda James Bond motherfucker.” She eases away from me slightly on the bench. “I remember ages ago in a time before the internet, a store front selling spy equipment in the upper crust part of town.” I laughed. “I mean, she was out of place among all the bistros and high end furniture galleries. Oh so totally ghetto for the such prime real estate. I remember saying what the fuck out loud. But I am not going to lie, I was intrigued with what was inside. I don't think the numbers are correct, claimed on Wikipedia, with regards to woman and voyeurism.” She crossed her legs and her arms followed. “I didn't go in.”
“Voyeurism?”
“I think it's way more popular then people admit. Just another unspoken world everybody indulges. I mean, have you ever read another person's diary?” She licked her lips.
“I would read yours, but that is an invasion of privacy.” I smiled and wondered if I looked quizzical. Did she answer my question?
“But you would read mine?” She winked.
“I don't know, are you as you seem?”
“How do I seem?”
“A well of unbelievable experience?”
“Sheet, I live it and I don't believe it. It seems to be a many varied and all compacting subject. The idea seems like luxury I'm a super private person but she's always been allusive. What if I read your own? How would that make you feel?” She sat up straight, cracking her neck with a side to side motion, looking all serious.
“My secrets are just that, mine. I don't keep a record of them. You won't find a diary of mine hidden away under my bed.” She flipped her bottom lip inside baring teeth.
“What about your phone?” I could feel a shit eating grin on the rise. She paused, eased her posture.
“What about it?”
“Would you be mad if I was in it without you knowing?” She reach into her back pocket and placed it on the bench and slid it over.
“What?” I asked, looking down at it, in its no case nakedness.
“Go ahead it isn't locked.” The slide was returned. She smiled. “So you want to discuss privacy over intimacy?” Her head found tile with a bounce that sounded painful. She didn't react.
“No ma'am, I am on the ponder of the idea of protection.” She took a breath deep inside.
“I want to protect you.”
“You, want to protect me? You are unlike any woman I have met before. So, is it to be us to the future, with each other at are backs? People just want to tear love apart you know?” She stopped, considering. “I first noticed this sitting in a Cuban restaurant out west with this big, beautiful, young woman. She was stunning. Together we drew all the attention. You could feel the malice in everybody's intention, but they couldn't stop themselves from interrupting our togetherness.” I stopped to consider, “Right, not the first time but, it was with this woman, this idea was solidified as one of life's ugly truths. How do you protect love, hide it away?”
“You like collecting the evil eyes do you? I hear spitting is good for combating that. That and the colour blue, hand emblems, profanity.”
“Do you really believe in curses?” She relaxed, weighted elbows finding knees, as she pondered.
“I don't know? It is one of those ideas that circle. You take a child who is told the are so beautiful from the time they can remember, does that instill confidence or arrogance? Shallow egotism can cause a person to suffer self induces hostility from others, That's like a curse is it not, being insufferable? Then, there is the idea from Mz. DiFranco where people harbour a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room. If envious thoughts is all it takes to cast black magic on a person, Instagram culture is fucked.” I laughed.
“Signify a fake life, to be an influencer of demigods who load your soul with psychic weight. In this day and age how many people exercise their spirit?”
“Do you believe in the supernatural?” Her lips puckered and she made with spooky hands.
“I have demons chasing me. As a child I was struck with night terrors that seemed to last forever. Plagued by different styles of reoccurring dreams, they had me fearing slumber, being jolted awake so many times following the course of the travelling moon. New age gurus and loads of folklore claim fear makes for a door way, you know, an entrance for hungry ghosts and lost souls. So there's that. I would say yes. How do you protect against invisible enemies in other dimensions? We don't need protection from animals any more we've killed them all.” She snickered,
“Oh my god, exaggerate much? Am I going to have to cut all the stories you tell me down by half?” I laughed.
“She's probably a good idea, or maybe I speak of the future. It ain't hard to tell. How many years is there left on our little path of destruction? 2050 sounds as if it is the year she's all going to come crashing to a bitter end. . .or there abouts. The longer we hangout in space you know like outside of our atmosphere , according to Anton Petrov from the WHAT THE MATH? youTube channel, the body likes none of it, starts to do us physiological dangers. According to his research a quick evacuation is not looking good. Do you think that is enough time to start a colony on Mars? I mean 50 years human's have kill 75 percent of animals with back bones. We can get our shit together when it comes to evil schemes.
“Three quarters of all the animals with backbones dead, where did you get that number from?”
“Some Indian bozozoku guru off of youtube,” She shook her head and repeated my words with a furrowed brow. I smiled waiting for questions that did come. “It's not as if there is only one crisis to set extinction on man, but many, and nobody cares. We are all screaming fuck the world. Way too preoccupied by fake hearts lighting to red, and what we're going to look like in a world that isn't. What is going to protect us from industrial parasites the likes, after rare minerals under the ocean floor?”
“We are all Nuaru.” Surprised, I smiled growing warm and winking at her all autonomic. “Yes ma'am she's my world's crystal ball predicting the undeniable future of the planet. In this little Island microcosm future reveals the fate if man's intention, if we remain financially obsessed. They are looking to sign off on deep sea mining, ain't that some shit?”
“No man's an Island.” I kissed my teeth,
“Is that right?” She gave me a side eye.
“The island as in the planet, phosphorous all of the planets resources, and the result: affects of greedy human designs. Just think how many times this cycle repeats over and over in any industry.”
“I hear you, I hear you, now with brainwashing gone nuclear. Chevron is slow on the media uptake. The Irving Family of petroleum products is one of the few Canadian companies profit from the free trade deal of the 80's and man did US oil lawyers piss and moan over unjust competition. They bought out media interest decades ago. It's and old story, control what you feed to the peoples minds. The majority of them will try and control the rebel rousers. I knew this before I was old enough to vote so, how is this fact slipping all these so called investigative minds? New bosses are just the old bosses, spouting off the same lame ass propaganda from there old news paper rooms. I mean, is war really what the world needs right now, on top of everything? It was NATO's crowding Russia that solidified Mr. Putin's power in the first place, and here they are at it again. If it is true, that the children are so absolutely cognitively weak, they can't cope with seeing people in masks without having a psychotic break, taking into consideration the systematic erosion of empathy and ethics over my life time, I would say it is more of a reflection to the skills in parenting. To shield offspring from the cruel and decaying realities, of the world they are relinquishing into there care, seems to be a path of destruction, or some sick form of sacrifice.” She snorted , giving me strange looks.
“Soul sacrifice, you know what screams louder then that to shitty parenting? Teenagers not wanting to go to do any school work. Imagine your parents feeding you with the excuse to spend the day playing Fortnite instead of doing algebra. You don't even have to con you mom and dad into thinking 'I'm not feeling well' with fake sniffles and a few fur ball hacks. New media, now all eyes are interested, not only the nerds, is just the new tool of control. Just like television was.” I went into a Who scat attack.
“Of course, first impressions this man in black left, lead me to think on the invasion of tech, being his field, which makes me think about defence for space of the mind. All of this faith a reliance in programs and algorithms, not learning from the passed forgetting, these technological innovations never work. Well not the ones designed for your security. No the malicious ones man, proliferate and exceed all expectations. Ccleaner never erased your tracks, VPN secures you from nothing. Avast sells your data and I have no choice now, it is on my phone automatic. Privacy is a human right, but in the 21st century, human rights don't mean a fucking thing in the eyes of all governments, looking to dissolve every one of them. Trying to make an enemy out of every living soul, when we the people, all want the same things, if we would just wake up from being mesmerized. Atlas majority are running into their slavery willingly, kicking and screaming at you, trying to force you to follow. Remember when the mind was a terrible thing to waste? Woke minions demanding the silence of everything they disagree with, man I said it before and I will say it again, a reactionary motherfucker is an easily manipulated cock sucker. These pawns think you are setting the stage for revolutionary change, but they have been suckered into leading the path of there own distraction, forgetting the revolving door of the two party system. The writing is on the wall man, both parties advocate book burning in the traditional and cyber aged styles. Have you read some of the titles on the Krause look list? The woke motivations they are trying to enforce, are the intended movements of their enemies. Imagine, being categorized a terrorist, for wanting to protect the sovereignty of your child's mind.”
Ah shit, you are talking about protecting the mind? Cognitive liberty? Man, I am so following you now.”
“Should it not be priority one, in modern times? I wonder how many people are concerned for their most valuable propriety. We all should be worrying about how truly free we are. To think what we believe, never mind what we say. Shit people need to just stop talking. Shit posting is that even talking? The assault to dim the lights in your eyes is constant, and the attacks are from all sides. After all is said, with the back peddling starting, do you thing the citizens of the world have learned their lesson, I mean after being held hostage for a few years? Constantly lied to, fed contradiction daily, I hear people complain, 'I did what I was told to do, god damn it, isn't that what I'm supposed to do'. Silly fuckers. I would have guess nobody has learned a thing.”
“I am super toking the thought process your blowing.” Again I laughed. “No way to change direction, with all minds jacked on dopamine, locked below baseline from over stimulation, but that is a story already told. No to mention the brainwashing abound. How do you protect a mind from governmental voyeurism? Everybody is so addicted to their phones?”
“Keep it out of the hands of children needs to be a thing but, as if.”
“So much for protecting the children.”
“I chose to be a Luddite, do you think that is a dangerous prospect in the 21st century? Playing around in an unknown space where there are obstacles everywheres? Do you think the Canadian secret service stands on mandating protection?”
“Do you mean does it protect government and industry, over its citizens?” I smiled, she was stealing the words from straight out my mind.
“Exactly, damn.” I sighed in admiration. “Yes, will they protect the rights of the people from the malicious intent of infiltrating power?” We both shared joyless laughter.
“That is just not the way of the world.” We sat quiet for a time. Her eyes never leaving mine, avoiding. “Keep us fat and stupid, locked in a 300 square foot box, scared of the air outside and each other. Playing sims, with cryptocash. We are all on the cusp of dangerous times. Why won't anybody see trough all the lies, are we just going to ignore it? The truth. All the propaganda is falling apart, just in time for the call to war against all who contest. I think there was prophecy of a corporate wet dream, in Reggie Watts sporting a full faced, filtered helmet, just add oxygen and charge a fee.”
“Fucking evil action plans. I imagine somebody has thunk it. Normalizing mask mandates. Crazy I know but, such are the times. What was it that Michael Parks said in the hospital, to son number one, in the Quinton's styled, V8 rendition of TWO LANE BLACK TOP? Fuck I love those movies.” She just smiled and continued,
“So what do you do to protect your spirit?”
“I don't want to hurt anybody.”
“Well that is something, but I'm not speaking of a heavenly kind of way. You spoke of demons?”
“Now that is secret ways, that can't be proven by science, and hard to uncover. A long long life ago I was playing Capoeira in the dark”, I chuckled, “and was amazed how magical it was.”
“The fight like dance? Again that is not what I mean. That is physical protection, in how it makes you agile and flexible. Forging a body strong in heart and lungs. The body takes maintenance, and sure, it carves that effectively.” I considered her own, as often as could because she was super fit.
“Do you play come now, vamos embora.” From off of the bench, I twisted into a cartwheel. Long legs spread length ways low, a knee bent beneath my head, opposite hand by my face, bouncing off of the heal of the rear foot in bow movement, limbs changed positions.
“Sit down you crazy fucker.” She looked about to see what attention I was attracting. “No I dated a feller though.” I sat quick in the same style and shut my mouth. Shoving her with my ass in a landing slide. The feeling that particular piece if information left, no sir, I didn't like it a bit. “I have lived”,
“I know I know” I interrupted, “What will ever protect a heart from jealous corrosion?”
“Devotion.”
“What the hell is that? That's like hypnotizing chickens eh? Yeah, I haven't seen a whole lot of that in my time. Spiritual protection you say? Sure health is super imperative and well neglected, especially by the youth, but I'm not talking about the physicality when playing in the circle. The more people clapping and singing, the stronger the hits on the berimbau and the drums commanding the game, they seemed to energize who ever's face to face in the circle. One could play longer and harder. Do you think there is magic in the music? I believe there is magic in the music. Say it, I can see you have words on the tip of your tongue you are refusing to free. Are they about buddy Capoeira?”
“I once wanted to visit and art exhibit in Ottawa call MUSIC IS THE WAY I PRAY. That was years ago. I don't want to make you jealous.”
“Yeah yeah you are all right. I am tougher then I look.” Her eye's considered.
“He used to always say 'the gods couldn't resist the bells'.”
“The Ago ago. Yes it's true.”
“And he used to say 'we broke a string, the gods were happy'. Do you ever do any energy work?”
“What you mean like hippy shit?” I smiled really big, fluttering lashes.
“Yes I suppose so. But I would say more Indian philosophy.”
“Oh my god you aren't fucking into yoga are you?” I licked my lips again, with a body in contemplation. Her smile disappeared, sitting with her back against the wall. Legs and arms linking again.
“I'm just kidding I do yoga too, of course not as much as I should. Now there is a lost world of knowledge that nobody remembers.”
“Jackass, so would you consider that protection for the mind, body or soul?” I laughed at her again, winking.”
“Cosmically you patchouli braiding, beat freak I would say yes to all three, the holy trinity hahah or is it? Is the holy trinity the domain of the mind?”
“I am so a beat junkie. What do you mean?”
“You're the hippy you tell me.” She slapped my thigh. “Do you think the soul has been drained from electronic music with the ease of it's creation. Is soul being drained from all artistic expression?
“There is some school of though that music has continuously regressed in complexity over the last few centuries, but I still love a hard driving house rhythm.”
“That is not what I mean. The heart of hip hop was laid out on an Roland 808 clicking buttons. Transistors pulling all the heavy lifting. There is the absence of the tens of thousands of hours on a snare and cowbell.”
“No blood, no sweat and no tears. Hours spent in the land of frustration, trying to learn a thing is missing.”
“Blood, currency of the gods some say. Watch you, she's crafty. That is another thing. Where do you find protection from the humiliation when an individual charts a map in the route to music land, in this world of subscribing to the currency of likes? How many children have stopped singing because some evil fucker grimaced and complained they sucked?”
“I love singers, the voice is an instrument just like all the others and needs to be exercised.”
“Do you sing?”
“NO.” She cut me off really fast. She really was a quick study. She knew I would ask her for a tune.
“This is what I am talking about.” The quality of her timber was sexy smoke. A nice surprise when I first heard it thinking 'a voice made for singing', I would press this further, but later.
“There are many was of spinning the wheels, chakras, and music is one of them.” She bit her bottom lip, and I just held my look all toothy smiles.
“What do you mean?” I licked my lips, fantasizing on her own maintaining a long deep swaying note with a slight rock of her head.
“Whatever you are thinking, stop.”
“No way baby.” Her eyes narrowed on mine, centring on her uncomfortable grin.
“It is believed the earth has different energy centers, there are colours that represent their meanings, they govern parts of the body, they have exercises to energize their essence. The waves, different instruments rock, specific wheels clear.”
“Get out, there is like 108 chakras, isn't there? Which instruments for which ones?” Elbows found knees again. Eyes sharp in mine, despite a crooked neck as she relayed slow,
“Seven, starting at the base, what do you think makes that wheel spin brighter? Why did you say that number?” She licked her lips raising a fist to her chin.
“It is one of those magic numbers, is it not? Come now, that's easy. Its the drums. Rhythm's music's foundation. Please just tell me the rest.” The short smile and a single head slide, from side to side, didn't feel pleasing.
“Brass is next, a sax, strings, flute, crystal bowl, and my favourite is last ending on top with voice.”
“But how and where do the chakras line up? I got the base, what is the last one head.” Again with the single negative head gesture.
“No sir, for that you have do your own research.”
“Listen man, isn't messing with supernatural concepts dangerous? Shouldn't you be advising me?” She smiled,
“I'm not your guru. This is all hippy shit remember, what's the worst that could happen?” Fuck what did I say that has me tasting toe jam?
“I was joking girl, you smell like strawberries not patchouli. I love strawberries.” I reach over and touched elbow and a knee. She spun on the bench. Facing my side profile. She grabbed my face with both hands, focusing me to her, which released my body limp to her touch, eyes penetrating from my lips to eyes and back for what seemed a long while. I sighed as she slowly advanced to surround my bottom lip in between her own. Inside, butterflies exploded finding the limits of our personal boundaries that formed in our meeting, protecting us from the distraction of outside world, as she held, looking straight into my eyes, her tongue gently tracing perimeters. I didn't want it to end but it did.
“In my pocket I have a bottle of the love drug, let us find sanctuary and yoga our souls forever in the blood sibling ritual from that movie called NATURAL BORN KILLERS.” There was no smile in her constitution. Only a serious determination. I wanted to say of how my brother corrected my childhood rendition of pin pricked, blood brother, finger rituals, clearly displayed in the cartoon matrimony scene on that bridge, but all I said was,
“Take me baby I'm yours.”