The Absence Of Abstinence

Time and time again, I check my watch twice before taking a shot. Out of habit there is always a countdown going on in my head. Closing time seems to be fast approaching. At a time like this is when I overheard a story like that, like that of which I am going to try my best to recreate for YOU here . That is right, YOU, a person sitting down or standing up. Eyes moving from left to right, top to bottom, line to line. You of whom would touch a metal pole on a city street in the chill of winter and feel the cold on your flesh. It is from someone like YOU that I heard a story like this.....
Music is full of melody, rhythm, and harmony of course, but in order for the music to be considered good music, all aspects have to be perceived as such by a listener. In no way-shape or shape-form was The Musician in question an artist of good music, the opposite was the general consensus. Being the son of two talented musicians The Musician should have had a fighting chance, but being the youngest of a family with fourteen siblings, all chances dissipated. The talent was soaked up prior to his birth and The Musician only had one real talent. The Musician could tie his shoes faster than anybody in the county. This talent did not take him very far but his popular parents placed The Musician in good standing with local bands and he was accepted into a band. Playing the banjo, terribly, is how The Musician got his start. Years, years, and some days went by and the band's fan base never exceeded twenty-five, to include The Musicians entire family. One day, out of the color blue, The Musician stopped coming to band practice and to gigs. The other band members continued to play and eventually changed their name. The music now seemed so perfect, and their fans increased by the handful at first then by truck-full, house-full, club-full, and eventually by the stadium-full. Perfect melody, rhythm and harmony now reached the ears of listeners and the band became famous. The music not only inspired those who heard it, but it changed the world and everybody in it. Eventually, more sooner than later, the group retired from music on top and never came back down. Once asked what happen to their former band member, the band stated that they never forgot him, they even named themselves after him and his memory, they are now and as long as ever is will be, The Absence Of Abstinence....

The Life Of A Prodigy

Words can never begin to describe a truly confusing feeling, only living the feeling can describe it, and that only becomes a memory if one is lucky. Drunk with a bottle of rum in my grasp is how I sit to tell the tragic story of a child I once had the opportunity to meet. It seems like a lifetime ago, but it was only seconds, no minutes, no hours ago. Yes, hours ago is when I knew him and he knew me, but we did not know each other. He had a lot to say and I had a lot of time, that is all I really have. So with a sorrowful heart and a warm feeling in my gut I tell you about The Life Of A Prodigy....
Kicking and screaming with fists pumped and flailing is how most come into this world, the Prodigy was quite different. Quiet and with open hands was how the Prodigy became a citizen of the planet Earth. From that moment until his last, the Prodigy never wanted for anything, he did not even know what the word want meant. Always given everything before he knew what anything was, he quickly learned the fine art of manipulation. At an early age, an age when parents still describe their children's age in months, the Prodigy knew how to read, write and play the piano like no other. A trip around the sun later and he had graduated high school with all honors imaginable. Needless to say, but said anyway, the Prodigy was very bright indeed. Taking trips around the planet and jotting down what the people needed was how the Prodigy spent his toddler years. Inventing the items to fill their needs is how he spent the summer of his Fifth year. On his Sixth birthday he convinced the needy to purchase his inventions, it only took one day, and it turned out many pockets. The Prodigy had nobody to tell his accomplishment to so he wandered into a bar, a bar where an old drunk man was sitting with time on his hands. The Prodigy told of his life, and made a friend for the rest of it. Outside the bar want waited, and when the Prodigy left the bar, want got what it needed. Overhearing the commotion, the old drunk man ran outside to see the Prodigy lying on the cold, cracked concrete, bleeding to death. Not screaming or crying the Prodigy just layed motionless and emotionless. The old drunk man asked the Prodigy if he wanted to live, the Prodigy simply shrugged and died. After the ambulance came, the old drunk man walked back into the bar to tell the story of The Life Of A Prodigy....

A Decision, In A House Without Cats

In a chance meeting a lot can be learned if given the right circumstance. At the same time, nothing could be learned if there is no desire. A chance meeting in a bar called Lucky's is where I met a person who defied chance. This is where I met an all-knowing, all-seeing psychic. It was not always this way, as she explained to me. A mixture of time and practice is how she learned. A mixture of booze and madness is how she probably did it. Though all of the stories from the Psychic were interesting on their own, the story of her first and only deep reading caught my attention and plagues my mind to this day. In a dark alley, near a crowded street, in a busy city, on a rainy day, is where the Psychic learned the story of A Decision, In A House Without Cats...
A house on a hill is where the Crazy Cat Lady lived. The house had only two windows and they were on the second floor of the house, facing the front. There was not another soul in sight. The Crazy Cat Lady was not always the Crazy Cat Lady; she was once a crazy child and always lived in the house by herself. Since always and what she could remember, she had heard voices and the voices were questions, and the questions were decisions. When she was a lot younger she would ignore these questions and decisions and go about her day. Then something special happened: the crazy child became the Crazy Cat Lady. It happened on a warm day when a warm Cat roamed into her house. She named it Hope and fed him frequently. Over time she began to answer the questions and decisions out loud, without hesitation, as frequently as blinking. As time passed another Cat found its way to the Crazy Cat Lady's doorstep. The Crazy Cat Lady named her Dream. She was welcomed with open arms. Over years and years Hope and Dream had many kittens and they filled the house with warmth and happiness. The Cats were oblivious to the voices and the questions and the decisions the Crazy Cat Lady was making and they continued to stay in the house. Years went by, several to be exact, and the Cats began dying or vanishing. Only one Cat remained, on a morning when the clouds were low and covered up everything that could be seen through the windows. Later that day, the last Cat was gone. There was only one question answered that day, one decision made by the Crazy Cat Lady. The voices were heard all around her. She said, "Pills..." and slowly disappeared.